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White Nights (White Nights 1)

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His eyes still locked on me, he opens a nightstand drawer and takes out a condom. Ripping open the packet, he rolls the condom onto his shaft with a practiced motion before climbing onto the bed. His movements are slow and deliberate. I scoot back, my heart pounding as he leans over me, caging me with his arms.

“Alex…”

Whatever I was going to say gets lost in a gasp as he bends down and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking the hardened tip deep. I forget my words. All rational thoughts fleeing, I arch off the bed with a strangled cry. His mouth is hot, burning my sensitive skin, and as he slides a hand between my thighs and palms my wet sex through the thong, tension builds inside me, intensifying unbearably as he presses down firmly, stimulating my aching clit.

Beyond aroused, I twist my hips, brushing against his rigid cock. He inhales sharply. With startling roughness, he grips the scrap of fabric that covers me and tears it off, provoking a gasp from me. Before I have time to recover, he pushes his heavy thighs between my legs, spreading them wide, and presses his cock against my opening.

I grip his shoulders, my breath catching from the blunt, firm pressure. Despite my wetness, he doesn’t slide inside. His shaft is too thick for me to accept with ease. Instead, he rocks gently, working himself in inch by slow inch. As his inexorable advance continues, my inner muscles stretch uncomfortably, and a whimper of distress escapes my throat.

Pausing, he asks in a low, hoarse voice, “Am I hurting you?” His body is tense, his jaw tightly clenched, but he holds himself still, giving me time to adjust.

I draw in a breath, forcing myself to relax. “Just give me a second,” I whisper, grateful for his restraint. Lying underneath him with his cock halfway inside me makes me feel vulnerable, at his mercy, and I’m grateful he has enough control to pay attention to the cues of my body.

“Of course,” he murmurs, holding himself up with one arm and using the other to reach between our bodies. Finding my clit, he rubs around it, spreading my arousal there before gently pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Gasping, I arch against him. The pleasure is so sharp it’s almost painful. My action pulls him deeper inside me, stretching me further, filling me in a way I’ve never experienced. Another pinch, another arch, and he’s all the way in, the coarseness of his pubic hair brushing against the smoothness of my sex.

Breathing heavily, he stares at me, holding still to let me get used to the feel of him buried inside my body. He continues petting my folds and toying with my clit until I soften around his hardness. I’m still not completely comfortable with his size, but the extreme fullness is no longer unpleasant. Instead, it adds to the powerful tension growing inside me.

Sensing my increasing desire, he begins to move, rubbing my slick folds and pressing on my clit with a rhythm that makes me spiral higher until I’m teetering on the exquisite edge of release. Letting out a choked cry, I dig my nails into his shoulders, needing him to move faster, harder, to hurl me over the brink. Suddenly, I’m there, my entire body convulsing as a wave of pleasure radiates outward from my core.

At my pulsations, he groans and starts thrusting more powerfully, pushing me into the mattress with each stroke. To my disbelief, the tension coils inside me again, my sensitized flesh responding as he drives into me with increasing force. He swells inside me, growing impossibly longer and thicker, and another orgasm rips through me, shocking me with its suddenness. At the same time, he reaches his peak, throwing his head back with a hoarse cry and grinding his pelvis against mine.

We stay like this for a moment, our foreheads pressed together as we catch our breath. Then he withdraws from me and discards the condom. Gathering me into his arms, he curves his body around mine from behind. The heat of his flesh penetrates my skin as his heavy breathing slows. My heartbeat, however, is still elevated, as if I’ve run up ten flights of stairs. I don’t know if it’ll ever beat normally again.

There’s sex, and there’s what I’ve just experienced.

“Are you all right?” he asks softly, draping a heavy arm across my hip. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

I let out a shaky laugh, glad he can’t see the dazed expression on my face. “You were very careful, and I enjoyed it very much. Obviously.”

“Good,” he says quietly, tracing circles on my stomach. “Because I’d like to see you again, Katyusha.”

I give an internal start and turn in his arms. “Are you asking me out after we just had sex?”


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