Page 24

A moan vibrates around my length, and I recognize the sound—pleasure. She's enjoying this power she has over me. My innocent bride, discovering the weapon of her sexuality.
I guide her movements, setting a pace that has my muscles coiling tight. The wet sounds of her mouth fill the room between thunderclaps, obscene and beautiful. Her eyes never leave mine, even as tears gather at their corners from the strain.
"Enough," I finally rasp, pulling her off me. Her lips are swollen, glistening, and parted in confusion.
I haul her to her feet, spinning her toward the bed. "I won't come in your mouth. Not the first time."
Her chest heaves as she catches her breath. "The first time?"
I smile, slow and predatory. "There will be many times,kisa. We're just beginning."
I push her back onto the bed, the dark silk sheets pooling around her like spilled ink. The storm's fury illuminates her face in stark contrasts—shadow and light, innocence and awakening desire.
My hands find the zipper of her dress, sliding it down with deliberate slowness. The fabric parts like water, revealing the pale expanse of her back and the delicate curve of her spine. She shivers as the silk whispers to the floor.
"Beautiful," I murmur, tracing the line of her collarbone with my lips. Her skin tastes of rain and something uniquely her—sweet, intoxicating.
Her breathing hitches as I map every inch of newly exposed flesh with my mouth. The hollow of her throat, the gentle slope of her shoulders, the valley between her breasts. When I take her nipple between my lips, she arches beneath me, a soft cry escaping her parted lips.
"Mikhail..." My name on her tongue sounds like a prayer and a curse combined.
I lavish attention on her breasts, sucking and nipping until she's writhing beneath me, her fingers tangled in my hair. My hand slides lower, finding the heat between her thighs. She's already wet, ready for me.
"You want this," I growl against her ear, my fingers stroking through her slickness. "Your body betrays you,kisa."
She whimpers, hips lifting to meet my touch. I circle her most sensitive spot, feeling her tremble as pleasure builds. Her innocence makes every reaction more precious, more intoxicating.
I strip away the last of my clothes, positioning myself between her thighs. The head of my cock brushes against her entrance, and she gasps at the contact.
"I'm going to have you all night," I promise, my voice rough with need. "By morning, you'll crave my cock, until you can't think of anything else."
I push forward slowly, feeling her body stretch to accommodate me. Her gasp turns into a sharp inhale, her nailsdigging crescents into my shoulders. The tightness is exquisite—a velvet vise that threatens my control.
"Breathe,kisa," I murmur against her temple, holding myself perfectly still. "Let your body adjust."
Tears glisten at the corners of her eyes, but she nods, forcing herself to relax beneath me. I can feel the exact moment her muscles soften, accepting the invasion. The sensation nearly undoes me.
I begin to move, each thrust careful and measured. Kira's soft whimpers fill the air between us, a symphony of pain transforming into pleasure. Lightning illuminates her face—eyes wide, lips parted, completely surrendered to me.
"More," she whispers, surprising us both.
The word shatters the last of my restraint. I pull back and drive deeper, claiming her completely. She cries out, her back arching off the silk sheets. The sound goes straight to my cock, making me throb inside her impossible tightness.
"You feel so good wrapped around me," I growl, setting a rhythm that has her meeting each thrust. "So perfect. So mine."
Her body learns quickly, rising to meet mine with growing confidence. The initial discomfort fades, replaced by something primal and desperate. She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper.
"I can feel you everywhere," she gasps, her voice breaking on a moan.
The storm outside mirrors the tempest between us—wild, uncontrolled, and consuming. I lose myself in Kira's heat, in the way she takes everything I give her and demands more. My innocent bride becomes something fierce beneath me, her submission transforming into active participation.
When her climax takes her, she shatters around me like crystal, her inner walls pulsing in waves that drag me over theedge with her. I bury myself to the hilt and let go, marking her as mine in the most primitive way possible.
Her muscles clench around me in rhythmic pulses, milking every drop as I empty myself inside her. The sensation is unlike anything I've experienced—a claiming so profound it borders on spiritual. I brace myself on my forearms, careful not to crush her beneath my weight, watching her face as she rides out the aftershocks of pleasure.
The storm has momentarily quieted as if even the heavens paused to witness our union. Rain taps a gentler cadence against the windows now, and in this lull, I can hear the soft catch of her breath, the hammering of her heart against mine.
"Are you alright?" I ask, brushing damp strands of auburn hair from her flushed face.