My cock twitches at the thought, and I groan into her, kissing her so hard and deep, my head spins. I break the kiss because there’s more I want. She’s panting, her mouth red and a little swollen from the kisses, her cheeks pink and flushed. Her tits heave, full and so fucking delectable, I almost go to town on them. I drop to my knees, pulling her to the edge of the desk, hands on her thighs, spreading them even wider for me, opening her up.
“So fucking gorgeous, Rose.”
I look at her pussy. It really is gorgeous, those soft folds, the wetness. The redness from the rush of blood there. That dark wet center needing to be split open and displayed. A rose blooming. She’s a work of fucking art.
Her thighs shake, and I tuck the sight away for my spank bank.
“W-What are you doing?” she asks.
I don’t touch her, just keep looking, like I need to sear it in deep into my mind. Coming in close, I blow on her pussy, and she moans.
“Nikolai, w-what-”
I close my mouth on her, sliding my tongue over that sweet cunt so she screams out.
“I’m shutting you the fuck up so I can think. So shut the fuck up. I haven’t had breakfast yet, and I’m suddenly ravenous. I like to think and eat. In silence. So…say one thing and I’ll stop. I’ll leave you on the brink under orders not to touch yourself.” She breathes in sharply.
“That still stands, by the way,” I say. “Your order not to touch what’s mine. All this is mine, every fucking inch of you. No pleasure unless it’s from me.”
I don’t wait for an answer, and instead, I begin to feast. I run my tongue slowly from her asshole, up along her slit, dipping in, then up, stopping short of her clit. I do it over and over, in measured licks.
My Rose doesn’t say a fucking word. In fact, she’s trying not to make a sound. There are tiny gasps and moans and sighs that she swallows as she moves, trying to get my face against her, trying to get her clit where she wants it. I think about ordering her not to move either, but right now, I love that uncontrolled urgency, her need.
She’s panting now, little sounds escaping, whimpers in the air, and I start to touch her, pushing my fingers into her, and she’s so wet, I glide easily into her tight heat. I curl them as I begin to lick and suck her clit, pulling up and down, then thrusting back in. It’s slow, measured, keeping her orgasm out of reach. Every time she starts to shake and clench, I soften and change, and then I start all over again.
Rose gasps, and she’s thrashing, moaning and whimpering, her breath a mess of pants and hitches, her hand pulling at my hair. I fucking love it: the pain, the control, her responses. The sweet, dark taste of her. The heat. Eating her could make me come on its own, but I focus on her, on her pleasure.
Fuck, she’s everything. She really is.
I keep it up, that slow relentless pace, until she moans so loud, I know I’ve hit paydirt, found a sweet spot in her. Now, I want her to come. I work it, that sweet spot. Fingers, lips, teeth, I let her try and ride my face as I build it up and up, and then, when she’s starting to contract, I push through it, not stopping.
She wails as she shatters and clenches and then tries to pull away. I don’t let her. I’m not fucking done. I grin against her and push and push until she softens and raises to me again, and I eat her into a bigger orgasm that makes her entire body convulse, and she squirts. I lap it all up, drink down all her wetness, lick her down to a soft space where she’s just rocked by little spasms.
Finally, I sit back. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve, and she’s motionless, splayed out, her tits with their stiff nipples rising and falling without rhythm, her thighs twitching here and there, stomach quivering.
Oh, fucking Christ.
I rise slowly and stare down at her. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as her, like this. She’s beyond art. She’s sublime.
“Rose?”
She opens her mouth, closes it.
“Rose, you can speak.”
“Oh… Oh, my God. Nikolai, I can’t… You broke me.”
As her eyes flutter open, I almost laugh. Then, my gaze sweeps the room, making sure no one’s decided to come see what the noise is. We’re alone in here, but not in the mansion. Rush is still in the house, as are others.
Shit. Rose is a sweet mess, and I ruined the shirt. I need to send her up to her room, but not naked. There’s a throw in a basket at the end of the sofa, and I pull it out. No doubt Mia put it there.
Rose still hasn’t moved and right now, I’m not sure she can. I could be a complete bastard and just leave her, throw the blanket on her and tell her to get out, but…I can’t. She needs… Her hand weakly opens and closes, her thighs spread, and she’s so damn wet.
Rose needs to be held. It doesn’t mean anything to give that to her, to hold her. So…
I lift her up and into my arms, carrying her to that sofa, and I sit, pulling her against me, and then I drape the throw about her, sliding one arm around her waist, the other stroking her cheek.
She sighs and leans into me. Rose is where I want her, straddling me, facing me, making a delicious little damp spot on my thigh. Though I relish that wetness, the heat of her pussy, I know I’ll have to get changed again. It’s not because I don’t want anyone to know what I’ve been doing. I don’t give a fuck if I smell like sex. I just don’t want to share that scent of her. I curl my hand around her flushed cheek and guide her in, feathering her mouth with mine.
“Rose?”
“Yes?” There’s soft need and satiation there, and a little self-loathing, which I choose to ignore.
“I need to get out of here shortly, so here’s what you’re going to do.”
Rose goes completely still. The after-sex glow evaporates. “What’s that?”
“You’re going to do what I can’t.”
Her gaze goes cold. “Which is?”
I push her from me and stand. On the sofa, she’s not a puddle like I thought she’d be. She doesn’t cover herself, either. She just raises her chin and looks up at me out of those now cold, pretty eyes.
“Not today or tomorrow, but when I’m ready. When that happens, you’ll go back to your father’s inner circle and get me and my men in safely. Before that, you’re going to reach out, ask for help. I’m betting he’ll give you a number you can reach him on, one I don’t have.”
“No.”
“No?” My voice is light, my tone anything but. “No isn’t an option.”
“I mean, no as in if I refuse.”
“I’m more than fucking aware of the meaning of the word.” I narrow my eyes at her. “And if you refuse to do this…”
“You’ll what? Kill me?”
I smile my coldest, nastiest smile. “Yes.” She doesn’t say a fucking word. “I’ll kill you first, Rose,” I say, “then I’ll find your father and kill him next, just like I always planned. If we do it this way, you do this, things might be different.”
Rose sucks in a breath, her coal hair with the ember undertones shining in the light. It catches a nipple and swell of her breast.
“Different how, Nikolai?”
I want to touch her all over again, but I don’t. “Different as in, if we do it this way, then you’ll have a chance to live the life you want.”