Page 97 of Savage Lies

His mouth captures mine in a kiss that tastes like desperation and need and things we can’t say out loud. I open for him, letting him heighten the connection while my hands work at his belt.

“Bed,” he growls against my lips.

“Not yet.”

I push him back against the closed door and drop to my knees in front of him. His breath hitches as I free him from his pants, and when I wrap my hand around his length, he moans like I’m killing him slowly.

“Katya, you don’t have to?—”

“I want to.”

I take him into my mouth, and the sound he makes in response goes straight between my legs. He tastes like salt and forbidden things that I want desperately. When I work him with my tongue, his hand tangles in my hair.

“Fuck, that feels incredible.”

I vary my pace, alternating between gentle suction and firm strokes that make him buck against my mouth. The power I have over him in this moment is intoxicating, like I’m the one in control despite everything else between us.

“Stop,” he pants after several minutes. “I want to be inside you when I come.”

I release him and let him pull me to my feet. His hands make quick work of my remaining clothes until I’m naked in front of him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes.

“Show me.”

He lifts me easily and carries me to the bed, laying me down with surprising gentleness before he finishes stripping out of his clothes. When he settles between my thighs, I can feel how hard he is against my entrance.

“I need you to want this.” He searches my face. “Reallywant it, not just…”

“I want you. Despite everything, or because of everything, I don’t know anymore. But I want you.”

The honesty breaks something loose in him. He kisses me with renewed hunger while his hand slides between my legs to find me wet and ready for him.

“So ready for me,” he murmurs against my mouth as he strokes through my folds.

“Always ready for you.”

He slides two fingers inside me, and I bow off the bed with a gasp. The stretch feels perfect, familiar, like my body was made for his touch. When he adds a third finger, I bite down on his shoulder to muffle the sound I make.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Let me hear you.”

He works me with a steady rhythm, building pleasure with the skill of someone who’s learned exactly how to make me fall apart. When his thumb finds my clit, I cry out and grip his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.

“Please,” I gasp. “I need you inside me.”

“Not yet. I want to watch you come first.”

He increases the pace of his fingers while his mouth moves down my body to capture one nipple between his teeth. The dual sensation makes stars explode behind my eyelids, and I feel my orgasm build like a storm.

“Dmitri, I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. Come for me, kotyonok.”

The endearment pushes me over the edge. I spasm around his fingers with a cry that reverberates through the room, and my inner muscles clench rhythmically as waves of pleasure crash through me.

“Beautiful,” he breathes as he works me through the aftershocks. “Absolutely perfect.”

When I can focus again, I find him watching me with something that looks dangerously close to love in his eyes. The expression should terrify me, but instead it makes my chest ache.