I push harder and she mewls, panting.
I haven’t felt a girl this tight since—
Oh shit.
I grab her long, shiny hair and pull it back over her shoulder to see her face. “Alessia.” My voice is pure gravel. “You’re not a virgin?” I can’t stop the alarm from ringing out through my thick accent.
“No,” she breathes and I relax. But then she says, “I’ve had sex before.”
I stop again. “How many times?”
“Two.”
I want to laugh.
And cry.
I stroke my hand up the hollowed arch of her back, reach around and toy with her nipples. Inch in a little more. Sweat gathers at my hairline from the pressure of holding back.
“Okay, baby?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s good, Vlad. Keep going.”
I grip her hips and thrust in deep all at once.
She doesn’t scream. Her moan sounds happy.
Thank fuck.
Fingers digging into her flesh, I let my passion loose, pumping into her. I’m already dizzy, my balls so tight, cock so hard. I bump her ass with my loins hard. Harder. I like the slapping sound it makes, like another spanking.
She must like it, too, because she moans and gasps into the bedcover, fingers clawing at the fabric.
I hold her nape, bunch my hand into her hair. I massage the back of her scalp the way she likes it, all the while fucking her so hard the bed rocks.
“Oh God,” she moans. “It’s so good.”
Satisfied I’m not hurting her, I let loose even more, pulling her ass back to meet each of my brutal thrusts. Her cunt is tighter than a glove around my rigid cock, and I’ve never felt such glorious satisfaction before.
“Alessia,” I find myself panting. It’s like an invocation. I’m having more than a spiritual experience. My world is fucking cracking open. “Alessia.”
“Vlad, please. Yes. Oh God.”
I’m way too rough, but I can’t help myself. I pound into her until she screams my name. Until I forget who I am.
What I am.
Until lights explode behind my eyes and I come like a fucking freight train.
Chapter 13
Alessia
I totally begged.
I’m not even embarrassed because it was so good it was worth it. I actually had no idea sex could be so incredible. I’m going to become an addict. I won’t be able to leave Russia because my body will want to stay enslaved to Vlad.
I’m so screwed. Ha. Literally.
Especially when he suddenly becomes infinitely gentle.
His cock still throbs between my legs. We both came. We both saw. I think Vlad conquered, but I was happy to become his conquest. But now he eases me to my belly, following me and covering my body with his own. He strokes my hair back from my face and lays kisses along my jaw, my shoulder. My back. All the while, he keeps rocking that big Russian cock of his between my legs. Lazy-like. He’s the ocean and I’m the boat. And he’s definitely a ride I don’t want to get off.
I moan softly.
“Are you okay, Alessia? Did I hurt you?” he murmurs, lips still trailing across my skin. “I’m sorry I was so rough.”
Cristo, this man is going to slay me right here. The tenderness after the heights he just brought me to is too much.
“Mmm,” is all I can give for an answer.
“Roll over.” He pulls out and tugs on my shoulder and rolls me to my back. “I want to look at you.”
He studies my face. I don’t mind looking at him, either. The crude tattoos. The muscles. The stark masculinity. That ice blue gaze. Especially the way he’s looking at me now. Like I’m the most beautiful woman on the planet.
His cock nudges my entrance again, and I sigh when he spears me. He’s only half-hard now, but it still feels so good. As he rocks, he lowers his face slowly to mine. Hesitates, hovering just above me.
And then his mouth descends. He claims my lips and shoves in sharply.
I moan against his lips. Move mine in concert with his. It’s bizarre that our first kiss comes last. After everything else—spanking. Oral. Fucking. Everything but anal, really.
Well, everything I know about, which probably isn’t that much, as he just showed me.
The kiss goes on. His lips devour. Teeth scrape over my flesh, tongue dips in and twines with mine.
His cock hardens again inside me.
And then, abruptly, he ends it. Comes up for air and stares down at me. Strokes my cheek with his thumb.
I lean into his touch.
“Don’t move,” he murmurs after a long moment.
He regretfully pulls out and walks to the bathroom. He returns without the condom, carrying a wet washcloth and my med kit. He climbs up over me and cleans between my legs as he drops kisses over my breasts, across my throat. Between my breasts.
Then he checks my blood sugar. Gives me a shot of insulin and kisses the place he injected.
Hungry, I roll off the bed and reach for his t-shirt to pull over my head.