Page 38 of The Russian's Stalked Bride
I hesitate at the brush of his length against me despite how good the friction feels, and of course, he notices right away.
“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Ivan asks, eyes on mine. He keeps his hand on me, but doesn’t move further.
The prospect of following through with this is daunting, but I know I want this. It’s just the unknown getting to me.
But with the amount of care he has shown me already, none of this feels wrong.
“I’m sure.”
Even with my confirmation, he lingers. “You trust me?”
I huff out a soft breath. “Conditionally.”
His lips pull, and he nods. “Understood.”
The warmth in his expression makes me soften, both lightening the mood and allowing me to ease into this.
“Just relax and focus on your breathing,” Ivan murmurs, slowly adjusting his grip on me as he shifts his hips forward. He starts kissing my neck again, offering me a distraction. “Tell me to stop if you need it.”
Nodding my understanding, I breathe a little deeper, urging my body to relax as I focus on the soft caressing of his lips against my skin, along with his hands on my thighs.
Then, he’s right there, pressing into my heat. Slow and steady, he pushes in, making sure not to get ahead of himself.
At the initial intrusion, my breath catches, but then I remember his words, and I force myself to breathe. To relax.
The feeling is so foreign at first, but with some patience, my body lets him in, and the subtle ache ebbs into something more enjoyable.
Ivan grunts as he continues, seemingly struggling under the pressure of me around him. His breath falters as he stills inside me, taking a moment. His fingers move through my hair and in a tender gesture that sends little sparks down the back of my neck. “Hanging in there?”
Somewhat overwhelmed with the feeling of him and the growing need for more, I nod, more dazed than before. “Please…move.”
At that, something flashes in his eyes, and his fingers move to my nape as he holds me. The opposite hand settles on my thigh, and with more deliberate care, he starts to move.
My breath hitches from the shallow thrust, back arching without meaning to. When a soft moan escapes me, Ivan groans again, then he’s claiming my mouth all over again.
Between his more demanding kiss and the measured way he rocks into me, I can only focus on the pulses of sensations and how incredible it is.
Then one thought circles in my mind…
I’m having sex with Ivan Lukov.
It’s startling, and yet, empowering at the same time.
More emboldened by the way he tries to hold back his sounds, I reach around him, letting my hands roam his back and shoulders, looking up at him. I watch how his features tighten in pleasure, and it only makes me feel hotter.
A deeper thrust pulls a string of moans from me, and my fingers dig into his skin while my eyes fall shut again.
It’s so obvious now what I’ve been missing. All the ways I haven’t been able to explore since being stuck with my family. But now…Now I want more.
The air between us seems to thin the longer Ivan moves inside me, and it almost feels like I’m high off the heat between our skin now.
Before I know it, I’m a mess underneath him, squirming from the intensity of each thrust, and every open-mouthed kiss he pressed against my skin. I arch into him further as I grip him, clinging more than I ever thought I would.
And before I can say anything, the flickering sensation in my stomach builds fast enough to make my breath hitch. Without warning, the knot inside me snaps, and a soft cry leaves me unbidden.
“Fuck, Mila,” Ivan utters against my neck, hips twitching from the way I constrict around him, causing his thrusts to falter. “You’re so tight…Christ—“
He grunts, gripping my thigh tighter before giving in completely, and with a groan, he releases into the condom.
