Page 96 of Stolen Empire

She’s half-naked, her bare tits pressing against my shirt, nipples hard.

I feel her heat, the way her body’s still buzzing from the coke, making every touch electric.

She moans into my mouth, her hands clawing at my shirt, nails digging in like she wants to rip me open.

“Dimitri,” she gasps when I break the kiss to drag my teeth down her neck, biting hard enough to leave marks.

“Fuck me. Make it hurt.”

I growl against her skin, shoving her back onto the couch.

She lands with a thud, legs splaying open, her panties the only thing between us.

Her eyes are wild, pupils blown wide from the drugs, but there’s fire there—pure, unfiltered need.

I strip off my shirt in one strong pull, tossing it aside, then drop to my knees between her thighs.

My hands grip her hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh, bruising her because I need to mark her as mine, even if it’s just for this fucked-up moment.

“Spread your legs wider,” I order.

She does, hooking one over the arm of the couch, exposing herself through the thin lace.

I see the damp spot, smell her arousal mixing with the sweat on her skin, and I hook my fingers into her panties and rip them off, the fabric tearing with a sharp snap.

She yelps, but it’s not pain.

It’s hunger.

Her pussy is slick and swollen, begging for it.

I don’t tease.

I’m not in the mood for games.

I lean in and bury my face between her thighs, tongue thrusting deep into her folds, lapping at her like a starving man.

She tastes like sin, salty and sweet, her juices coating my chin as I suck on her clit.

Her hips buck up, grinding against my mouth, and she threads her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer.

“Oh God, yes—right there, you bastard,” she hisses. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that spot that makes her arch off the cushions.

She’s wet, clenching around me, her walls pulsing like she’s already on the edge.

I pump them faster, my tongue flicking her clit in rhythm, feeling her body tense and tremble.

She comes hard, screaming my name, her thighs clamping around my head like a vise.

I don’t stop, riding her through it, sucking every shudder out of her until she’s panting and limp.

When I pull back, my face is smeared with her, and she’s looking at me like she wants to devour me whole.

“Get up,” I command, standing and unbuckling my belt.

My cock is straining against my pants, aching to be inside her.

She scrambles to her feet, still shaky from the high and the orgasm, but she doesn’t hesitate.