drawing to a peak, the pale flesh puckering under the onslaught, and she gasped at the sensation of his hot mouth on her.
Reaching down, she found he’d shrugged out of his jeans, and when her touch was met by the hardness rearing up from his loins, she thought she’d never felt a more enticing sensation. She slowly let her fingers explore the veiny shaft, ending in the velvety head, thick and hot, and then was gratified to discover a drop of slickness topping the majestic lance.
Slowly directing him to her center, she sought his gaze, and when their eyes met, she melted into the look of heat and tenderness she found therein. She caressed her hand along his stubbled cheek, and then cried out when he moved inside, sliding between her folds with a soft shudder, the sensation of their cores finally touching sending shivers through the both of them. He arched up, supporting himself on his arms, and she trailed her fingers along the rippling muscles of his broad chest, along his corded arms and back, and then his mouth was on hers again, claiming what was already his—what she’d already offered.
As Vitaly moved inside her, sliding deeply between Joanna’s slickness and melting in the heat that tugged at his core, he knew his life would never be the same again. After this moment, he could no longer pretend to return to his old life—dismiss the connection with this woman out of hand.
They were one now—the silent scream ringing through his body and mind—united at the center of their being, and life would never return to the same old rut again.
He moved inside her, supporting himself on his arms as his mouth continued to explore the delicacy of her softness—her neck—her throat—the smooth surface of her breasts… Cupping and sucking, drinking and tasting, he was voracious, and so was she. Over and over again, she sought his mouth, offered her tongue, and as her legs casually circled his waist, and she drew him in even deeper, he lost the last vestiges of restraint. She might be his now, but he was hers as well.
“Oh, Vitaly,” she sighed, the telltale signs of an overwhelming climax rearing up from the depths of her center. “Oh, my Vitaly.”
As the cadence of their union increased, his length sliding ever deeper and faster between the slick walls of her flesh, she cried out as her body trembled and shivered in the throes of her first peak, the fire burning in her belly leaping across her whole body and holding her in its ecstatic grip. And as he suddenly reared deeply inside her, breaking the rhythm for the first time, she knew he, too, was reaching the point of no return, and she welcomed it, still in the throes of her own climax, and laughed with the pleasure and the joy of it all.
Unable to stop, she drew him near again, and when their tongues connected, bliss spread out inside her mind, soul and body, and all she knew was him—Vitaly.
CHAPTER 15
There wasn’t a thing to be done. He’d taken the woman and made her his. This was the situation, and now they had to deal with it.
Yury watched as Vitaly and the woman emerged from the garden house, surreptitiously looked about them as if they had been trespassing on foreign ground, then grinning at each like a couple of silly teens, and traipsed off into the gardens, fingers entwined and bodies close.
They had that glow, Yury decided. The postcoital glow. That was what gave them away. That and the sounds of their lovemaking, of course. One couldn’t miss them. The moment he’d passed by the small structure and heard them going at it, he’d been of a mind to simply throw wide the door and chase them both out of there.
A fury had come over him at the thought of Vitaly lowering himself to such base conduct. And on his property as well. It was now clear to him that something must be done and right soon as well, or else he would lose his best enforcer the way he’d lost many others before.
Women. They were the bane of his existence. First his
Reaching down, she found he’d shrugged out of his jeans, and when her touch was met by the hardness rearing up from his loins, she thought she’d never felt a more enticing sensation. She slowly let her fingers explore the veiny shaft, ending in the velvety head, thick and hot, and then was gratified to discover a drop of slickness topping the majestic lance.
Slowly directing him to her center, she sought his gaze, and when their eyes met, she melted into the look of heat and tenderness she found therein. She caressed her hand along his stubbled cheek, and then cried out when he moved inside, sliding between her folds with a soft shudder, the sensation of their cores finally touching sending shivers through the both of them. He arched up, supporting himself on his arms, and she trailed her fingers along the rippling muscles of his broad chest, along his corded arms and back, and then his mouth was on hers again, claiming what was already his—what she’d already offered.
As Vitaly moved inside her, sliding deeply between Joanna’s slickness and melting in the heat that tugged at his core, he knew his life would never be the same again. After this moment, he could no longer pretend to return to his old life—dismiss the connection with this woman out of hand.
They were one now—the silent scream ringing through his body and mind—united at the center of their being, and life would never return to the same old rut again.
He moved inside her, supporting himself on his arms as his mouth continued to explore the delicacy of her softness—her neck—her throat—the smooth surface of her breasts… Cupping and sucking, drinking and tasting, he was voracious, and so was she. Over and over again, she sought his mouth, offered her tongue, and as her legs casually circled his waist, and she drew him in even deeper, he lost the last vestiges of restraint. She might be his now, but he was hers as well.
“Oh, Vitaly,” she sighed, the telltale signs of an overwhelming climax rearing up from the depths of her center. “Oh, my Vitaly.”
As the cadence of their union increased, his length sliding ever deeper and faster between the slick walls of her flesh, she cried out as her body trembled and shivered in the throes of her first peak, the fire burning in her belly leaping across her whole body and holding her in its ecstatic grip. And as he suddenly reared deeply inside her, breaking the rhythm for the first time, she knew he, too, was reaching the point of no return, and she welcomed it, still in the throes of her own climax, and laughed with the pleasure and the joy of it all.
Unable to stop, she drew him near again, and when their tongues connected, bliss spread out inside her mind, soul and body, and all she knew was him—Vitaly.
CHAPTER 15
There wasn’t a thing to be done. He’d taken the woman and made her his. This was the situation, and now they had to deal with it.
Yury watched as Vitaly and the woman emerged from the garden house, surreptitiously looked about them as if they had been trespassing on foreign ground, then grinning at each like a couple of silly teens, and traipsed off into the gardens, fingers entwined and bodies close.
They had that glow, Yury decided. The postcoital glow. That was what gave them away. That and the sounds of their lovemaking, of course. One couldn’t miss them. The moment he’d passed by the small structure and heard them going at it, he’d been of a mind to simply throw wide the door and chase them both out of there.
A fury had come over him at the thought of Vitaly lowering himself to such base conduct. And on his property as well. It was now clear to him that something must be done and right soon as well, or else he would lose his best enforcer the way he’d lost many others before.
Women. They were the bane of his existence. First his
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