Page 15 of Twisted Pact

“Changed your mind?” he asks.

“No.”

“Good.”

He nudges my thighs apart as he climbs over me, and I expect him to just get on with it. To take what he wants and be done. But instead, he kisses me again. Slowly and thoroughly, like we have all night instead of just these stolen hours.

His hand slides down my stomach. Lower. Until his fingers find wetness and heat that betrays exactly how much I want this despite my better judgment.

“Still wet for me,” he says against my mouth.

“Don’t gloat.”

“Can’t help it.”

He circles my clit with his thumb while one finger slides inside me. I bite my lip to keep from making noise. From giving him the satisfaction of knowing how good this feels as he slides in and out, curling as he goes.

“I want to taste you,” he says.

I open my mouth, to say what, I don’t know, but he’s moving down my body. Kissing my stomach, my hip bones, the inside of my thighs. His breath ghosts across my center, and I nearly come off the bed.

“Alexei—”

“Shh.” His tongue drags through my folds, and my mind goes blank.

He goes down on me like he’s starving. Slow at first. Then deeper. I stop thinking and just feel.

His tongue circles my clit with perfect pressure while his fingers continue working inside me.

“Oh, God,” I breathe.

“That’s it.” His voice rumbles against sensitive flesh. “Let me hear you.”

He adds a second finger, and the stretch makes me gasp. It’s not painful, just new. A preview of what’s coming that makes my stomach clench with nerves and anticipation.

His tongue never stops moving. Never gives me a chance to think or reconsider or remember all the reasons this is a terrible idea. He just keeps working me until I’m on the edge of something even more intense than what I felt the last time we were together.

“Come for me, Mila.” His voice roughens, low and lethal.

The command tips me over. My back bows off the bed as the orgasm crashes through me, stealing breath and thought and every defense I’ve carefully constructed. He works me through it, gentling his touch only when the aftershocks fade.

“You taste incredible,” he tells me when he finally pulls back.

I can’t form words yet. Hell, I can barely remember my name.

He kisses up my body until we’re face to face again. “You ready for me?” he asks.

No. Not even close.

But I nod anyway.

“Relax,” he encourages me as he positions himself at my entrance.

Easy for him to say.

He pushes forward slowly. Just the tip. And already, I can feel the difference between fingers and this. The burning stretch that makes me tense despite my best efforts to stay loose.

He pushes deeper.