The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

“Don’t play the innocent virgin with me, Gianna. I haven’t seen you blush a single time in my life.”

I let out a little growl. “I don’t like you at all. Let me out.”

Why had I thought this was a good idea? There were so many ups and downs with this man it made my head spin.

We stared at each other in a silent battle of wills.

His jaw ticked. And then he pulled his dress shirt from his pants, grabbed my hand, and slid it over his stomach and up his chest. He was compromising with me, allowing me to touch him without taking off his shirt.

I should have left, gone home and finished myself off while fantasizing about his good twin. But, as my hands traveled over skin hotter than it ever should be, that hazy rush of lust pooled in my lower stomach, pulling at my muscles and stretching me thin.

“How many women did you kiss in Seattle?” The quiet question escaped me as I ran my fingers through the grooves in his abs.

His eyes were steady pools of dark blue.

He didn’t answer me, but he didn’t have to.

He didn’t kiss.

A heady sense of satisfaction filled me. Then why, oh why, Officer, do you kiss me?

His gaze grew half-lidded as I pressed my fingers into his skin, scraping my nails down his chest. I shifted on his erection, slowly rocking my hips and grinding against him while we stared into each other’s eyes. A fire lit inside me, growing hotter and brighter, until I was so close to release I could taste it.

I gasped as he slid his hand into my hair and yanked my head back, pressing the rough words against my ear. “You’ll get off with me inside you, Gianna, no sooner.”

A shaky breath escaped me, but it came out like a needy whimper with the angle of my head.

He cursed in Russian, tightened his grip in my hair.

I could only stare at the roof of the car, my chest moving in and out with harsh breaths, as he pushed the straps off my shoulders and tugged my dress down to my waist. Pulled the cups of my bra down to bare my breasts. And then he just looked at me with an intensity that licked at my skin.

When he captured a nipple in his mouth, white light shot behind my eyes. His hand released my hair to squeeze one breast while he licked and sucked the other. He switched to give them equal attention. Slapped the side of one to watch it jiggle. With a rough sound, he nipped at it like he was angry, like he was trying to imprint himself on my skin forever.

My eyes rolled back into my head, my pulse throbbing between my legs. If he didn’t stop, I thought I could come just like this.

He played with my breasts until I was so far gone I would do anything to feel him inside me—anything. I worked on his belt buckle, pulling him out. He was hot and heavy in my hand, and so hard I couldn’t resist pumping him in my fist once. He hissed against my throat, and before I could even get a good look at him, he gripped my hips and pushed me down until I’d sunk halfway onto his length.

He groaned.

I gasped.

It hurt. It really hurt. It’d been too long for me, and the bastard was well-endowed. I panted, my thighs quivering as I tried to adjust.

His grip tightened on my hips, and I rested my hands on top of his to try and stop him from shoving me down all the way. I shook my head, as if I’d done my best but it wasn’t going to work out in the end.

“All of it, malyshka,” he commanded.

The warmth in his voice drifted straight between my legs, soothing the sting and filling my stomach with heat.

One of his hands slipped out from mine to trace my landing strip until he found my clit. He rubbed it in a circular motion, and then his mouth found my breasts again, licking and sucking. I moaned, every touch feeding the hot buzz in my core, until, slowly, I slid down, taking him all the way inside me.

“Fuck,” he gritted, looking down at where we were connected. He gripped my hips tight enough to bruise, tension radiating from him, every muscle in his body pulled taut. “Fuck, you’re so tight, malyshka.”

The feeling of him inside me was so intense, my body trembled. The backs of my eyes burned, and I pressed my face into his neck.

His heartbeat raced against mine.

He was shaking.