Page 42 of Blood & Snow

He follows like a predator, loosening his belt as he goes.

By the time I sink onto the edge, he’s got it free, leather whispering through his hands.

I freeze, but heat surges low in my stomach.

“Lie back," he orders, and I obey with shaky breaths as the mattress dips as he climbs over me.

His belt loops around my wrists before I can second-guess, buckled tight against the headboard.

I tug instinctively, but the restraint holds, forcing my arms up, chest arched high.

“You belong tied up,Ptichka,” he murmurs, pressing his cock hard against my jeans.

"So you can't fly away from me."

His mouth drags down my stomach, teeth scraping sensitive flesh as his hands wrench my jeans open.

Denim peels down my legs under his impatient touch, panties torn aside a moment later.

His tongue replaces his fingers before I can catch my breath, lapping through my folds.

“Oh, God.”

My back bows, thighs clenching, but he grips them hard and forces me open.

His tongue stabs inside, then drags slowly over my clit, sucking until I scream.

"Oh, fuck!"

It's all happening so fast, so much attraction and arousal, and I don't want him to stop.

God fucking help me, I want this man to make me come undone.

“Already dripping,” he says against me.

“So needy for the man you swear you hate.”

He devours me relentlessly, his tongue circling, stabbing, sucking until my whole body trembles.

I writhe against the belt, begging without words, and when he adds two thick fingers, thrusting deep, the pressure explodes.

My orgasm hits with violent and sudden shudders, tearing through me while he doesn’t stop, milking every drop.

By the time he lifts his head, his mouth glistening, I’m gasping for air.

He rises, unfastening his slacks, and frees himself—thick, hard, flushed.

My eyes widen despite myself.

“Don’t look away,” he orders, stroking himself slowly.

“Watch what you’ve done to me.”

I can’t breathe.

My eyes lock on the hard length of him in his fist, and shame coilswith want until I’m dizzy.

Heat floods my cheeks as my bound wrists ache to be free, not to run but to touch, to guide, to feel.