Page 22 of Under His Control (Silver Fox Daddies #27)

ANATOLY

I kick Taylor’s apartment door closed behind us.

Her lips are slightly parted, eyes dark and full of invitation.

“A last hurrah?” she teases softly, her smile half playful, half sultry.

“Yeah. Leave the place with one last happy memory.”

My voice is low, deep with desire. I take a step toward her, closing the distance until our bodies are firmly pressed together.

Her breathing dissolves into a quiet gasp as I lower my mouth to hers, tasting her slowly. Her hands find my chest, sliding up beneath my tee and pulling it up over my head. It lands on the worn hardwood with a soft thud.

“You taste even better here,” I say against her lips. “Do the familiar surroundings bring out your hidden talents?”

She smirks, pressing closer. “I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

My hands trail down her spine, feeling her curves beneath the thin fabric of her dress. She arches into me, warmth radiating from every touch. Her hips press tightly against mine, making my pulse surge.

“Bedroom,” I command, breaking our kiss just enough to speak.

She grabs my hand, pulling me eagerly down the short hall to her bedroom. The small room is barely big enough to fit the double bed and dresser, but it’s cozy. The bed is neatly made, waiting for us. She grins at me over her shoulder.

I spin her in my arms, capturing her mouth again, more possessive and passionate this time. I guide her back to the mattress. She sinks onto the edge of the bed, eyes locked with mine as I slowly take off my jeans. Her gaze traces each revealed inch, licking her lips.

“Like what you see?” I ask.

She nods slowly. “Always.”

I kneel in front of her and slide my hands up her thighs, pushing her skirt up inch by inch until it bunches around her waist. She leans back on her elbows, watching me intently.

I slip her panties down her legs, tossing them behind me. Leaning in, I press a soft kiss to her inner thigh, reveling the slight tremble beneath my lips.

“Anatoly…”

I smile, slow and wicked, dragging my hands down the soft curve of her thighs as I settle between them. Her breath hitches, chest rising, pupils blown wide with anticipation. I kiss the inside of her knee first—just a whisper of contact—then trail upward, teeth grazing as I go along.

She squirms, restless. “Anatoly…”

“I’m right here,” I murmur, nipping the tender skin near her hip. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

My mouth lowers, tongue flicking over her heat—light, teasing, just enough to make her gasp and lift off the bed. She tastes like candy, sweet and naughty. The sounds she makes—something between a whimper and a curse—go straight to my cock.

“God,” she pants. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t plan to,” I say against her. “You want to come for me, baby?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

I wrap my arms tighter around her thighs, anchoring her down as I dive in. No more teasing. I work her with long, slow strokes, circling, then flicking, then suckling her clit until she’s writhing on the bed, fists clenched in the sheets. Her legs tremble against my shoulders, thighs tensing.

“Fuck. Anatoly, right there,” she gasps, her voice breaking into high, breathless moans.

I focus in, merciless and steady, responding to every twitch and cry like she’s an instrument and I’m the one playing her. When I know she’s on the edge—so close she can’t hide it—I lift my head just long enough to say, “Come for me, little wife. Let me feel it. Let me taste it.”

Her back bows off the mattress, a sharp cry ripping from her throat as she comes undone. I hold her through it, mouth pressed against her pussy, drawing out every last shudder, every last desperate, beautiful sound.

She collapses, panting, boneless and glowing. I press a final kiss to her inner thigh before crawling up beside her.

“Still breathing?” I ask, brushing her hair away from her damp forehead.

She lets out a soft, dazed laugh. “Barely. You’re lethal.”

I grin. “Good.” Then I lower my mouth to hers. “Because I’m not finished.”

She laughs breathlessly, pulling me up to meet her lips.

I capture her mouth hungrily, tasting her heat and need. My hands find the zipper at her back, tugging it down until her dress slips away completely.

She reaches for my boxer briefs, pushing them down. Soon, nothing remains between us, and the warmth of her skin pressed against mine sends electricity through my veins.

I lay her back against the pillows, settling between her thighs, the heat radiating from her body nearly driving me mad. She reaches down to guide me to her entrance, eyes locked on mine, desire shining clear.

“Slow,” she whispers softly. “I want to feel every second.”

I slide inside her inch by careful inch, watching her expression shift from anticipation to pleasure. Her hands grip my ass, nails biting into my skin.

“Perfect,” she breathes out, eyes fluttering closed.

I move slowly at first, savoring each thrust, feeling her body respond beneath mine. Her hips rise to meet me, matching my rhythm seamlessly. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper, closer. Our mouths find each other again, hungry kisses punctuating every slow movement.

When her breathing becomes uneven again, I shift my angle, hitting the sensitive spot deep inside her. She gasps sharply, arching into me, nails digging deeper into my skin.

“There, yes, right there—” she pants urgently, body tightening around me.

I keep that angle, driving into her again and again, relentless. She cries out, pleasure peaking for the second time. I slow my movements, letting her recover, brushing my lips over hers.

I pull her hips to meet mine as I sit back, drawing her onto my lap. She gasps at the deeper angle, eyes widening as she settles fully against me.

She moves over me with slow, deliberate grace, bracing her hands against my chest. Her thighs straddle my hips with confidence, every soft curve pressing into me, every roll and dip of her body igniting something primal.

I slide my hands down the generous flare of her hips, reveling in the way she fills my palms—lush, warm, utterly perfect. She’s gorgeous—the kind of woman sculptors would beg to immortalize in marble—but no stone could ever do her justice.

Her breath catches as she lowers herself further, taking me inch by inch, adjusting to the position. My hands twitch with restraint—I want to grip her, guide her, but I let her lead.

Her hair falls around us like a dark silk curtain, shielding us from the world. Her eyes, wide and luminous, stay locked on mine. In them, I see trust, fire, vulnerability—and desire that sears through both of us like lightning.

“You’re mine, Taylor. Never forget that.”

She leans in, hips rolling in a slow, maddening grind that punches a groan from my chest.

“Yours,” she whispers, voice trembling but fierce, kissing me with hunger. “Only yours.”

Her pace quickens, confidence blooming. Every bounce, every drag of her hips sends electric shocks straight through my spine. My hands slide to her waist, gripping hard. The sight of her—breasts bouncing, cheeks flushed, thighs strong and splayed—unravels me.

She’s glorious. Powerful. And she’s giving it all to me.

“Anatoly…” she gasps, head tilting forward, sweat glistening in the hollow of her throat. “So close…”

“Come for me,” I command, voice rough and guttural, driving my hips up to meet her thrust for thrust. “Now, Taylor. Let me feel you.”

Her cry is raw and beautiful as she falls apart in my arms. Her body tightens, pulsing around me, nails biting into my shoulders as pleasure crashes over her.

The sight, the feel of her release—so intense, so real—pulls mine from me with a snarl of her name.

I empty into her, groaning hard as I push into her deeply one last time.

We collapse backward onto her mattress, tangled limbs and ragged breaths. I hold her tightly against me, feeling her heartbeat racing against my chest.

We lay there quietly for several minutes, letting our breathing even out, bodies slowly cooling. My fingers trace gentle patterns along her spine, feeling her relax fully into my touch.

“You okay?” I ask softly, placing a kiss on the crown of her head.

“Better than okay,” she murmurs sleepily against my chest. “That was a pretty unforgettable goodbye to this place.”

“Mmm,” I hum, threading my fingers through her hair lazily. “It deserved a proper farewell.”

She shifts slightly, head tucked beneath my chin, her breathing still slightly uneven. I stroke her bare back, savoring the feeling of her soft, warm body pressed against mine. After a moment, I tilt my head, studying her.

“You sure you’re ready to leave it behind?” I ask quietly.

She goes still for a beat then she nods, the motion small, almost shy.

“Yeah,” she says softly.

I catch the hesitation, the flicker of something she’s not saying. But I don’t push. Not now. Whatever backup plan she’s clinging to, whatever piece of her old life she isn’t ready to fully surrender yet, I’ll give her that.

I press a kiss to her temple, pulling her closer until her head rests fully over my heart. “Good,” I say. “Because I’m ready to take you home.”

Her hand curls against my side. She closes her eyes, and I feel her whole body melt into mine with a sigh.

I text my driver, letting him know that we’ll be a while yet.

I hold her like that, protective and content, letting the silence settle softly around us.

Right now she’s warm, safe, and mine.

And I’m not letting go.