He stroked his cock, his gaze never leaving hers. “I’m going to fuck you.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Liberty lay there, her breathing rapid and her pulse speeding as she soaked in the sight of Rurik standing at the foot of the bed. Every single ounce of the man was sheer perfection.
Oh yeah.
The Kremlin was getting a thank you note from her. Maybe even a basket of baked goods to go along with that.
She bit at her lower lip as he put a knee on the bed, his hand sliding over his long, thick cock. A moment of panic came over her, thinking about all the ways his chicken couldn’t possibly fit in her, but her body was already bathing in the aftershocks of the mind-numbing orgasm he’d caused in her.
Reason had left the building.
She put out a hand toward him. “Rurik.”
He crawled the rest of the way onto the bed and somehow managed to make it feel small, despite accommodating three grown women on more than one occasion.
Her fingers skimmed his rock-hard abs as she reached for his cock.
Rurik caught her wrist gently, shaking his head no. “If you touch me, I’ll come.”
A wicked grin splayed over her face.
He moved over her fully, pushing her legs open wide with his knee and thigh. He settled between them. Their gazes locked as he lined up with her core. He bent his head, capturing her mouth with his. Their tongues danced around one another as he fed the head of his cock into her inch by inch, stretching her fully.
Her hands found his shoulders. Liberty dug her nails in, trying to relax to aid in his entry, but it didn’t work as planned. The man was anything but small.
When Liberty realized she was drawing blood, she released his shoulders.
Rurik deepened the kiss with a growl. He added his hand to the mix, rubbing her swollen bud as he continued to ease slowly into her. The act left her squirming beneath him, accepting his girth.
When he was as far as he could go, he planted his palms on the bed, to each side of her head, and broke the kiss, tipping his head back, appearing strained. He remained in the push-up state for what felt like forever, giving Liberty no choice but to swivel her hips below him.
“Lib-er-ty,” said Rurik, sounding as if he was barely holding on. “I need a minute. You feel…divine.”
Ignoring him, she moved beneath him more, taking him deep and then pulling off him again and again as he remained almost statue-like.
The muscles in his neck strained and for a second, she could have sworn his blue eyes seemed to shimmer. He kissed her before she could so much as question what she might have seen. He moved then, pushing into her fully. He then began drilling her into sweet oblivion.
Her body responded in kind, gyrating against his movements as if they were a well-oiled machine with years of practice in the bedroom together. They found a rhythm, one that left her gasping and clinging to him as he fucked the living hell out of her. Her toes curled and she nearly dug her nails into his back, drawing blood there as well, as everything in her tightened, including her sex.
She writhed beneath him, her hands roaming the hard planes of his body.
He moved his hand from between them and cupped her breast. Then he lowered his head, continuing to fuck her. He licked her pebble-like nipple and then took it into his mouth, sucking gently at first before increasing the pressure. The added sensation caused pleasure to burst free from deep within her, spreading quickly to every limb, making her shake and jerk under him.
His lips found hers once more. The kiss was intoxicating.
Rurik growled in her mouth and then broke the kiss, moving his mouth to her neck. He dragged his lips over her sensitive flesh as pleasure held her in its thrall. Her orgasm showed no sign of letting up, and neither did Rurik. He kept his mouth against her throat but whispered something in Russian.
She hugged him to her, riding out the shockwaves of bliss. “W-what?”
“Mine,” he said in a low, gruff voice near her ear.
She’d have questioned him on it all but instantly felt the temperature around her dropping rapidly—like it did before she lost control of her curse.
Panic welled. “Rurik!”
“Let it go,” he whispered.
The words slid over her, chasing away her worry. In that moment, she trusted him fully, as if he were some kind of expert when it came to what she could do. She stared at the ceiling over his shoulder before noticing a small rivulet of blood from the scratches she’d caused. Fixated, she couldn’t seem to look away. The strangest urge to repeat what Rurik had said before came over her.
“Mine,” she said in a voice that was barely there. As the word left her lips, the temperature dropped more. Instead of panicking, she licked the tiny trickle of blood from the wound she’d caused.
At the same time, Rurik kissed her neck. A sharp pain came from the spot but was quickly chased away by earth-shattering pleasure.
Liberty orgasmed again and didn’t bother with trying to keep her voice down. She let out a cry that could have been heard blocks away.
Rurik’s entire body tensed before he did four hard, stiff jerks against her, settling deep—rooting himself in her. His cock twitched and she wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him locked to her as her pussy milked him.
He licked the spot he’d been kissing on her neck before his lips found hers. The kiss he gave her was tender, soft in a way that was filled with emotion, not blind with lust as had been the case before between them. He smiled against her lips.
Liberty slid her foot down one of his legs and chuckled under him. “Wow. Putin is getting two baskets of goodies from me.”
“Pardon?” asked Rurik, sounding lost.
She laughed more. “Nothing.”
He withdrew
