Page 100 of Devil's Vows

Easy. It’s all so easy now, the forbidden untethered and floating away on the tide of our mutual need for each other. To think a few little vows have the power to shift my mind from sin to sanctioned, setting my whole being adrift in the sensation his hands and lips are creating, building need in my body.

Ivan releases my nipple with a tortured pop, sending a sensual, if somewhat painful zing of lust to my sex. “Fuck,” he grunts as he pulls away. “Turn around before I rip this dress off you.”

I do as he tells me, closing my eyes and breathing through the slow seduction of my husband loosening each button on my back, one by one, his knuckles placing soft kisses along my spine. The dress falls forward, and he swipes my hair away, exposing my neck, kissing the dip of my shoulder as his hands circle my sides and cup my breasts from behind. My nipples harden even more as he rolls them between his fingers, and I lean back into him.

“So close…” I breathe. It must be the novelty, my inexperience, or simply my attraction to him that has me this close to the edge already. Maybe it’s the slow burn of days wanting him, finally coming to this point. “I’m so close.”

“Too fast,moya ptichka.I want you soaked?—”

“I am soaked.”

“I need you drenched, or I’ll hurt you,” he murmurs as he presses his cock against my butt, and I feel it, the size of him,even through layers of silk. He pulls away and steadies me with his hands on my hips. “Step out of the dress.”

I gingerly step over the fall of fabric, and he supports me when I wobble on my high heels.

“Hmmm,” he groans as he makes me turn and rakes me down with a glance.

My impulse is to cover up, but I meet his intense gaze and the command is there, so I relax my hands at my sides and let him look his fill. Naked, in only a lacy thong and heels that are killing me, my blush seems to spread with the route his eyes take.

My gaze travels, too…over the perfect fit of his tailored black shirt, to where it’s tucked into his pants, and the massive outline of what’s straining to escape its confines.

When his gaze drops to my sex, I feel myself swell there, the pulse point thrumming. Soon, achingly soon, I’m going to have to come, or I’m going to go mad.

Ivan seems to be fighting his own restraint as he lets go of my hand to fist his cock through his pants. “The things I want to do to you should not even enter my mind because you’re a virgin, but fuck, Gabriella, you’re the fantasy I’ve been waiting for.”

Pure. Untouched. His.

Unmarked.

That’s what Ivan is thinking, but that other Russian is here, even if only in a breath that seems to ghost over my back, sending shivers down my spine.

51

GABI

The urge to tell him, to open up before he thinks it’s something I’ve intentionally hidden from him, simmers up again, but I’m too drugged with lust to talk. Even fear has left the building.

“Turn around. Bend over and hold on to the bed, legs straight, ass in the air.”

I bite my lip and do as I’m told. I am, after all, a good girl who listens to her husband. A husband who knows what he’s doing and expects me to obey his every command. Commands that make this easy for me, not having to think about anything, just feeling. Delaying the inevitable.

“That’s right,moya ptichka,” he murmurs as his hands come to rest on my butt, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, squeezing and then softly circling over my ass. He runs his fingertips down my thighs and up again, sparking a rush of need that travels way beyond my legs.

He bends over me and trails kisses down my spine as his fingers slip underneath the thong and pull it up, putting pressure on my clit, his cock pressing into me, seeking. I arch my back, moaning, wanting more, wanting everything, but he is setting the pace, and he knows how to take his sweet time.

He licks and kisses his way south, shifting on his feet the lower he goes down my spine, and by the time his mouth is at the start of my crack, I’m squirming. It’s too intimate, the feeling too intense, the burning need too much. “Ivan?—”

“I’m going to be all over you tonight, Gabriella, so hold still,” he murmurs against my skin, a smile in his voice. “And I’m still going to fuck you here, too. I promise you, you’ll like it…I’ll make sure you like it so much, you’ll start craving it.”

The notion should shock me, but it doesn’t. It’s a promise I’ll hold my husband to, if I survive the night.

He shifts then, repositioning himself and I try to look over my shoulder, but his thumb sneaks down, brushing over my tight little hole and startling me. I gasp, but then there’s more…a finger, slipping into my sex, pressing down on my inner walls. I reach between my legs, blocking him from touching my clit.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “We’ll work both angles.”

Oh God—now he thinks?—

Arousal and dread pulse through me at the same time, but I can’t stop myself. His words only spur me on, arousal winning as he pushes in deeper, adding fingers and putting pressure on the perfect spot.