Then he rears back, rolls me onto my belly, unhooks my bra with a practiced flick of his fingers, and yanks my dress down my hips and off my legs. My panties get the same rough treatment.
He tosses everything to the floor. When I look up over my shoulder at him, he’s staring down at my naked body with wild eyes and flared nostrils, tattooed chest heaving, his jaw and big fists clenched.
A thrill runs through me.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Part terror, part desire, and part pure adrenaline, it raises goose bumps on my arms and legs and makes my wild heartbeat go arrhythmic.
The way he wants me makes me feel superhuman. Like I’m capable of anything. Like all my atoms are vibrating at a dangerously high speed, threatening to crack me wide open.
Like I could levitate right off this bed and set the whole house on fire.
Looking up into his blazing dark eyes, I realize this is the first time in my life I haven’t been afraid to be myself. The first time I haven’t been scared of being judged. The first time I don’t care about doing the safe thing, the smart thing, the thing I “should” do.
The first time I’ve felt truly free.
I whisper, “Do it, then. Do it all. Give me all of you. And don’t you dare hold back.”
In his split second of hesitation, he moistens his lips. His lids drift lower.
Then he grabs me by the ankles, drags me to the edge of the bed, leans down, and takes a big, greedy mouthful of my ass.
He sinks his teeth into it with an animal’s snarl.
It’s a primitive sound of victory. Like a lion gloating over a fresh kill.
Then in place of his teeth, I get his hand. His open palm meets the spot his mouth just was with a stinging crack that makes me jump and yelp in shock.
He starts to speak to me in Russian.
Harsh, guttural Russian, the words spoken through clenched teeth.
It’s so hot, I can barely stand it.
He flips me onto my back, pulls my bra off, flings it away, and kisses me deeply, biting my lips. He’s breathing hard, and his hands are shaking. I know he’s teetering out on a thin ledge of self-control, just barely holding himself back because he’s worried that if he lets go completely like I demanded, he’ll hurt me.
That this huge, dangerous man can also be so sweet and tender almost brings tears to my eyes.
I wrap my legs around his waist and kiss him back even harder, pulling at his hair.
He bites my earlobe. My neck. My shoulder. I laugh breathlessly, feeling crazed.
He kisses and nips his way down my body. I’d say fondling, too, but his hands are rougher than that. Greedier. He takes big handfuls of my flesh wherever he can, grasping my breasts and hips, his mouth following the trail his fingers blaze.
When he bites my inner thigh, I moan.
He freezes. Rasps, “Too much?”
“God, no. Don’t stop.”
He turns his face to my other thigh and sinks his teeth into the tender flesh there, too. I arch my back, wanting his demanding hot mouth in other places.
Like—there.
He gives me exactly what I’m arching up for, latching onto my clitoris and pulling at it with his lips. I make a sound I’m sure I’ve never made before, one of total delirium.
Then he flattens his hand over my belly to hold me down and eats me to within an inch of my life as I lie there with my legs spread, moaning and writhing, wantonly rocking my hips against his face.
When he slides two fingers inside me and scrapes his teeth against my clit, I come.
My orgasm is sudden and violent. An explosion of pleasure. I crack wide open for him, shuddering and screaming his name.
He rips open the fly of his jeans, fumbling at it, his mouth still devouring me. He surges up onto one hand on the bed. The other is at his crotch. I catch a glimpse of his erection, jutting from his fist, before he shoves it deep inside me.
We groan at the same time. Stretched open around his huge, hard cock, I claw my fingernails into his back.
His voice comes low and ragged. “Yes, baby. You give me your marks, too.”
Then he fucks me, deep and hard, thrusting wildly into me like his life depends on it.
I hook my ankles behind his back and hold on.
My breasts bounce. My lungs ache. My skin breaks out in a sweat. He drives into me over and over, balancing on one hand over me, the other gripping my ass and pulling me closer with every hard thrust of his hips.
Against the soundtrack of my own helpless cries and his chest-deep grunts of pleasure, I climax again.
My entire body tenses. My head tips back. I bow against the bed, jerking, impaled on his cock, convulsing around the invading girth of it.
He slows the motion of his hips. Drops to his elbows. Puts his mouth near my ear.
“Mine now,” he whispers hotly, his voice triumphant. “You come on my cock, you’re mine.”
I sob, feeling like the last cord that tethered me to earth has unraveled and sent me pinwheeling into the vast blackness of outer space.
Somewhere deep down inside, I know that this is what I was afraid of. This moment, right here.
The moment when I finally give myself to him, heart and soul, body and mind, surrendering completely.
There’s no turning back now. No changing my mind.
What surprises me is that I don’t want there to be.
No matter who or what he is, I don’t care.
I’m all in.
I pull his head down and kiss him hard, knowing as I do that the girl I was before this moment no longer exists. When we rise from this bed, it will be as one person, not two.
I guess he and I are alike in that way: there’s no halfway for either of us.
We’re both all in or nothing.
He commands, “Give me your eyes.”
I open them and stare up at him through a blissful haze. He looks beautiful, otherworldly, his gaze burning hot, his brow furrowed with intensity.
He picks up the pace of his thrusting, and I get that he wants me to watch him climax. When he comes inside me, he wants us both to have our eyes wide open so we can see everything plainly, all there is between us as we share our bodies and breath.
He said it, but he wants me to know it: I belong to him now.
Just as he belongs to me.
I reach up and touch his face. I murmur, “All those years I spent waiting…I don’t think it was for him anymore. I think it was for you.”
He shudders, moans, drops his hot forehead to my neck. Then he empties himself inside me with a series of short, jerking thrusts, gripping my hair and whispering brokenly in Russian.
I wrap my arms around his back and my legs around his waist and close my eyes, feeling like I’m flying.
Feeling like I’m finally, finally home.
We doze.
After a while, Kage rouses from my arms and gets undressed, standing at the side of the bed and quickly peeling off his jeans, briefs, and boots, impatient to return to me. He crawls back into my arms and nuzzles my breasts, pulling me against his big, warm body. Tangling his strong legs between mine.
“Why are you laughing?”
I open my eyes and look at him. Even sweaty and disheveled, his messy dark hair falling into his eyes, he’s so handsome, it takes my breath away.
“Because you left your shoes on.”
He crinkles his nose. It’s adorable. “I was in a hurry.”
“You don’t say?”
He quirks his lips and examines me from under lowered lashes. “Is my woman trying to tell me I left her unsatisfied?”