In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)(58)

He chuckled low, knowing how good he was, but she couldn’t fault him at the moment. At first his eyes were on her face, reading her every reaction to what he was expertly doing to her, but then his eyes drifted lower, his own need burning bright in his eyes as he watched what he was doing and the way she undulated her hips every time he withdrew.

Wanting to do something for him as well, she reached out, wrapping her fingers around his straining length. He lost his triumphant smile as he groaned, a deep guttural sound in the back of his throat that made her shiver all over.

She had no idea what to do, how best to touch him and that showed in her hesitation, afraid that she might do something wrong and embarrass herself.

Wrapping his hand around hers, he tightened her hold just slightly, then showed her just how best to stroke him. It’s slow at first, just a smooth glide up and down, but when he exhaled, cursing under his breath as he looked to the ceiling, the muscles in his throat working as he gritted his teeth. It’s enough to make her bold, speeding her actions.

Mishca squeezed his eyes shut, the fingers he had inside her matching her rhythm.

She could feel it then, that sensation building deep inside of her. She couldn’t keep her hold on him, instead bunching the sheets in her fists. He looked down at her, his pupils practically swallowing the blue of his eyes.

He was speaking, the Russian going right over her head, but the look in his eye was enough to make her breath catch. He pulled his fingers free, sliding down her body until she could feel the ends of his hair tickling the insides of her thighs.

He spread her legs wider, opening her to his ravenous gaze. For a moment, he looked up, his tongue swiping out over his bottom lip before he lifted her leg over his shoulder.

Mishca didn’t go in immediately as she thought he would, instead he used his tongue on her inner thigh, demonstrating what he was about to do to her.

“Mish…” Her voice was throaty, needy like it had never been before and it had the desired affect on him.

He had to grip her hips to steady her, keeping her in place as he consumed her. She moaned breathlessly as he delved his tongue inside of her, slowly, expertly, bringing her so close to the edge that she reached down, tangling her fingers in the silky strands of his hair.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” she chanted again and again, making him respond eagerly, like he was just as desperate to get her off.

It was only a few moments later when that sensation in the pit of her belly spread through the rest of her. When her cries grew louder, he covered his mouth with his palm, muffling the energetic sounds.

She came hard, holding onto him like he was her anchor. It was the greatest experience of her life and she loved that she got to share it with him.

He drew back, looking down at her with an unreadable expression though a smile tugged at his lips. He was still hard, almost painfully so, but when she reached for him, he intercepted her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss.

“Wasn’t about me.”

“But—”

“Trust me,” he said breathlessly, looking back down at her legs. “We’ve got all week.”





Chapter Eighteen:


Eyes Wide Open


It was warmer than usual when Lauren woke up, the strong arm around her wait a good indication as to why. Unlike the last time they had spent the night together, Mishca was still sound asleep beside her, his face utterly relaxed as he slept.

He didn’t stir as she turned over in his arms to face him better, reaching out to softly trace his jawline, his facial hair tickling the pads of her fingers. Despite the darkness that still surrounded them, she could see with stark clarity. She took this time to truly study him, knowing the opportunity might not come up again.

She started along his jaw, around until she got to the slight indentation in his chin that was hidden beneath the dusting of whiskers. She tried not to linger on his lips, still thoroughly affected by the night before. She could still remember the stroke of his hands as he touched her, his soft kisses as he descended down her body, and as he licked and bit at her inner thighs, working his way north, his masculine groans still made her shiver.

Shaking her head, knowing her face was flushed, Lauren moved on from his face, over his Adam’s apple, outlining the epaulette on his shoulder, then stopping at the eight-pointed star below his collarbone. The lines of the star were slightly raised, and she might have imagined it, but as she followed the pattern, Mishca seemed to twitch, yet when she looked up to see if she’d woken him, his eyes still closed.

She narrowed her eyes on him, trying to discern any change in him, but he stayed perfectly still. Drawing her hand away, but she didn’t get far as he snagged her hand, pressing it back against his chest.

“I was enjoying that,” Mishca whispered, peeking open one blue eye, smiling fondly at her.

“You could have told me you were awake,” she whispered back.

“And ruin the fun?”

She laid back on the pillows, facing him. “Good morning.”

“It’s a great morning,” he said kissing her briefly. “Would you like a tour of the grounds?”

“Sounds good.”

“Then it’s time to get up.”

Taking his own advice, Mishca threw the covers off, climbing to his feet, stretching. He was all muscle, all the way down to his—