Page 111 of Thorns of Love

He poised himself at my hot entrance and I almost whimpered with frustration as the tip of his hard shaft put pressure against me.

“More,” I begged.

He paused, his whole body rigid as he held himself back. “The moment it hurts, you tell me.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Just fucking do it,” I pleaded. “I need you.”

“Promise me,” he groaned, a grimace marring his expression. I arched my hips. “Promise me, Tatiana,” he hissed when his cock slid further inside me. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, his muscles straining with self-control.

“I promise. Right now, you not fucking me hurts like hell,” I moaned. “I’m aching so fucking much for you.”

He pushed in, slowly. Deeper and deeper. My head thrashed, the sensation of fullness overwhelming me. His thrusts were slow and shallow, his pelvis grinding against my clit. It was different, but so perfect. Every time with Illias was perfect.

“Whose pussy is this?” he rasped against my ear, keeping my hips immobile with both his hands and all the while, he kept thrusting. Each time he hit that sweet spot and a shudder rolled through me. “Whose pussy is this?” he gritted, repeating the question I forgot to answer.

Every cell in my body trembled with the need to tumble over the cliff. I was almost there, another brush of my clit and I’d fly. I didn’t think, just answered. “Mine,” I breathed.

He stilled and I blinked in confusion, searching his gaze. “Illias,” I whimpered. “Please–”

I licked my lips, and his gaze darkened as he followed the motion.

“Whose pussy is this?” he growled, his hand reaching between our bodies. His finger rubbed my clit, in slow, lazy circles. “Tell me, Wife. Whose?”

“Yours,” I answered as I leaned upward, needing his lips. “Always yours.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, yours.”

A groan came from deep in his chest and his hands tightened on my hips. “Good. Now, I’m going to ride this pussy of mine.” He thrust. Harder this time.

“Yes, yes, yes.” My voice was too enthusiastic. My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

“Don’t move your hips,” he grunted. Another thrust. I could feel him deep in my womb. “God, Tatiana. I can feel you clenching me. Strangling my cock.”

I rolled my hips. It was a moot point. He refused to give me an inch. I reached for his lips and kissed him. Urgent. Wet. His tongue thrust into my mouth. He pulled out of me, until his tip was at my entrance, only to ram deep inside me once more. The sensation of him deep inside me, his pelvis against my clit and his mouth on me. It was all too much after not having him for weeks.

He swallowed my next moan. Another thrust. His hands held me roughly in place. He kissed my mouth wild and rough. Sweet, hot pressure built and built.

“I love you,” he groaned against my mouth with another thrust. His body tensed, then shuddered, right as the pleasure burst through me, rattling my bones.

He trailed kisses from my mouth, over my whole face, until he buried his head into my hair, letting out a masculine groan that sent a shiver down my body.

Both of us breathed hard, holding each other. His love soaked through my skin until it became part of my DNA. He inhaled deeply and murmured soft words against my lips.

“Tatiana Nikolaev, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” His voice was hoarse, his heart beat hard in sync with mine. He lifted his head, our gazes meeting.

I stared at him in confusion as he reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a little black box. Then he slid down the bed and onto his knees.

“Please be my wife because you want to be,” he said, his voice dark, full of reverence and love. “I should have done it right the first time.”

Tears stung my eyes and one rolled down my cheek.

“Yes,” I muttered, then cleared my throat, emotions stuck in my throat. “Yes, yes, yes. Always yes.” He jumped to his feet, his glorious, naked body in full view and wrapped his arms around me.

“Untie me so I can hug you back, damn it,” I croaked, blinking the happy tears away. I’d cling to him like my second skin. In one swift move, my hands were unbound and I wrapped them around his neck.

“You’re mine and I’m yours,” I whispered. “Forever.”