Page 92 of Shadow Waltz

He dropped the paddle, grabbed my wrists, pinned them to the bed. He bit his way up my chest to my mouth, kissing mewith a desperate hunger, tongue fucking deep, sharing the taste of my own cock.

His hips rolled, cock sliding up and down my crack, hot and thick, teasing my hole. My whole body shuddered, my mind swimming in pleasure and submission, need and adoration.

Luka reached blindly to the nightstand, fingers closing around the bottle of lube. He flipped it open with one hand, slicking his palm generously before wrapping it around his cock, stroking himself slow and rough, making sure every inch was shining and dripping. Then he poured more between my cheeks, the cool liquid running down, mixing with spit, pooling at my entrance.

He worked the slick into me with his fingers, circling, pressing, spreading my hole wide open, making sure I was messy and ready, his words a low, filthy whisper against my ear. “Gonna take you apart for me, Ash. Want you so wet you can’t forget me for days.”

With one last, teasing swirl, he lined himself up, cock glistening, head pressed right where I was begging for it?—

“Are you ready?” he growled, cock pressing against me, every muscle in his body trembling with the effort to hold back.

“Please, Luka, please, I need it—I need you, I want you, please?—”

His mouth claimed mine, bruising, as he finally, finally started to press in.

The first push stole the air from my lungs. Luka’s cock stretched me open, thick and relentless, forcing my body to give and remember, burning and perfect. I gasped against his mouth, hands clawing for purchase as he pushed deeper, inch by inch, not stopping until he was buried to the root. The weight of him settled over me, hot and heavy, his breath ragged in my ear.

“God, you’re tight—fuck,” Luka groaned, pulling back just enough to slam in again, making the bed rock, my legs thrown wide and pinned beneath his hips.

I choked out his name, head tipped back, eyes glazed with pleasure. He fucked me with hard, deep strokes, grinding his hips, cock dragging over my prostate until my whole body sparked. Each thrust sent more lube and precome leaking out, running down the backs of my thighs, pooling beneath us, messy and obscene.

Luka’s hand gripped my jaw, tilting my face so I had to look at him. His eyes were wild, hungry, locked on mine as he set a brutal rhythm, hips slapping, sweat rolling off his brow.

“You feel that?” he growled, snapping his hips faster. “You feel how fucking desperate you make me?”

“Yes—yes, Luka—don’t stop, please, don’t stop—” My own cock slapped wetly against my belly, every thrust jolting me closer to the edge.

He bent to bite my throat, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise above the collar, his hand snaking down to fist my cock, stroking me in time with the savage rhythm of his hips. My whole world narrowed to the sensation of being filled, fucked, used, and worshipped all at once.

He shifted, knees bracing on the mattress, lifting my hips higher. The new angle made me see stars, his cock battering my sweet spot, making my body shake, begging for release.

Luka slapped my ass, rough and hot. “You gonna come for me, Ash? Gonna make a mess all over yourself?”

I could only whimper, tears in my eyes, hips bucking desperately as he fucked me even harder, the sound of our bodies obscene in the night.

“Come on,” he snarled, voice cracking. “Show me. Show me how much you need it. Come for me. Now.”

I shattered. The orgasm ripped through me, white-hot, spilling across my belly and chest, clenching down on Luka’s cock so hard I felt him lose control. He cursed, fingers digging into my hips, driving into me with brutal, stuttering thrusts as he spilled inside me, filling me with heat and possession and something that felt dangerously close to love.

He collapsed over me, mouths tangled, bodies shaking. I could feel his cock twitching inside me, his come leaking out around the base, mixing with lube and sweat and the sticky mess between us.

We lay there, tangled and ruined, my legs still spread, Luka’s body draped over mine, his hands gentle now as he smoothed them over my battered skin. I felt every bruise, every ache, every mark he’d left—proof that I was his, at least for tonight.

He kissed me softly, lingering, letting the world slow back down. His breath was shaky, words a whisper against my lips. “Perfect. Fucking perfect.”

Luka’s hands traced idle patterns along my ribs, the edges of my bruises, the collar at my throat. I closed my eyes, feeling safe for the first time all night, letting myself drift in the warmth of his body pressed to mine. Neither of us spoke for a long moment, just the sound of our breaths mingling, the city far below feeling very far away.

Then Luka shifted, propping himself on one elbow, eyes serious now, mouth soft with something almost vulnerable. He brushed a thumb over my cheek, then finally broke the silence, his voice rough with exhaustion and satisfaction.

“The shipments,” Luka said finally, his voice rough with exhaustion and satisfaction. “You were right about Baltimore.”

I turned to look at him, seeing something in his expression that I'd never noticed before. Not just acceptance of my decision, but approval of the intelligence behind it.

“How do you know?”

“Because I had Mason run an analysis after you left my office. The federal surveillance patterns, the shipping schedules, the increased law enforcement presence—everything you identified was accurate.” He traced patterns on my chest with one finger, seemingly fascinated by the marks he'd left there. “The Philadelphia route was the smart play.”

“And you're not angry that I made the decision without consulting you?”