Read Online The Professional by Kresley Cole - Free Book Online Page A

you, make you helpless. I’d use you in unspeakable ways.”
    As long as he made me feel like this—with my ass on fire and my breasts so swollen I could hardly think of anything but my own inflamed flesh. “Yes, yes!”
    “You’d feel the bite of leather across your breasts, its sting between your legs.”
    I arched to him. “Okay!”
    His grip tightened even more. “This was supposed to punish you, to punish me. But you fucking love it. You need it, even if you don’t know how badly.”
    My head thrashed, and I murmured over and over, “I love it, need it.”
    “Put your hands over your mouth. Muffle your scream.”
    My what? Still, I did as he said.
    In Russian, he muttered, “God help us both.” Then he sucked one of my engorged nipples between his firm lips, into the waiting heat of his mouth.
    His wet tongue lashed the peak as his teeth grazed—
    My orgasm ripped through me. Violent, scorching, startling. Melting me as waves of pleasure contracted my untouched pussy—clenching inside, clenching so hard. Bucking my hips, I pressed my hands tight over my mouth to muffle my ecstatic screams.
    The release was so intense, two tears spilled down my temples.
    He sucked my other nipple, and the waves returned, my core convulsing.
    Rapture . . .
    When I was spent, he released me and drew back on his knees. I struggled to catch my breath and marshal my thoughts—failed on both counts—so I gave him a tentative grin.
    As his gaze swept over my body and then to my curling lips, he looked like he struggled with rage—with actual rage. Which couldn’t be right.
    I scrambled up to kneel before him, my breasts feeling so lush. My nipples were damp and throbbing against his rock-hard torso. I whispered, “More.”
    I could feel his body shaking. So why wasn’t he throwing me down, plunging inside me?
    My hand tripped down his body. When I palmed his huge, hot cock, he made a growling sound. As I traced it with my fingers, I found the wet spot from his pre-cum, and shivered with want. “More.”
    Between gritted teeth, he said, “Fuck—you.”
    “I don’t understand. What did I do?”
    He grabbed the length of my hair, wrapping it around his fist. “Ty ne dolzhna byla byt’ takoy.” You weren’t supposed to be like this.
    Tugging my head down to the side, he slanted his mouth over mine. He kissed as wickedly as he did everything else, with sensualflicks of his tongue stroking mine. I threw my arms around his neck, pressing our chests together.
    His skin felt like it burned with fever, his heart thundering. When one of my nipples glided across one of his, he groaned into my mouth, deepening the kiss.
    Tongues tangling, breaths mingling. Slow, sinful, shattering. Until I was brazenly rubbing my body against his.
    Yet then he broke away. “You don’t know better, but I’ll teach you.” I heard him tear open his zipper. He used his grip on my hair to tug me down to my hands and knees; with his other hand, he yanked out his shaft. Bigger even than I’d imagined. Exquisite.
    Under my captivated gaze, his veined length bobbed. I watched it pulse even harder. A bead of moisture clung to the head, glistening in the moonlight, and I was hungry for it.
    He merely waited while I stared, his hand shaking in my hair. If he’d wanted to frighten me away, why hadn’t he forced my mouth onto it? Shoved it back in my throat?
    He muttered words in Russian, his voice so hoarse I had trouble understanding him. Something about needing to drive me away, while faltering to.
    I wanted to pay attention, to ask him to explain, but that bead taunted me. Unable to help myself, I eased forward and swiped my tongue along the tip, tasting his arousal, stoking mine to a fever pitch all over again.
    A guttural sound broke from his chest. I glanced up, saw his head thrown back, the muscles in his chest rippling with strain. His arm muscles twitched.
    I’d given blow jobs before, but was by no means an expert. Yet I’d always thought