The Master (The Game Maker #2)(38)

“You devil, you didn’t tell me it’d lock!”

“And I keep the key.” He looped a thin leather lead around his neck, a key dangling over his chest.

I sucked in a breath, rocked by how sexy I found the lock and key. It was like an erotic locket for two that intertwined when put together.

Suddenly I needed to come like crazy. With access to my clit barred, all my thoughts instantly focused on that area of my body.

“I own every one of your orgasms, Katya. I’ll bestow them upon you as I please.” He returned to the bed, to my bed, then stretched out beneath the duvet.

“You’re sleeping the night with me?”

Without opening his eyes, he said, “That is non-negotiable.”

“I’m supposed to keep this on till morning?”

“If you want me to remove it, I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to convince me.” With a laugh, he said, “Sleep well.”





CHAPTER 17




Once his breaths grew deep and even—insomnia, my ass—I cupped my palms over the front of the belt and rocked, desperate for friction. I felt only a slight increase in pressure, not nearly enough to come.

Heat emanated from his body, his scent intoxicating me. And that leather lead around his neck got me so horny, my * quivered in its cage. This—is—agony! I turned over on my front, grinding the mattress, stifling a moan.

When I finally passed out in frustrated exhaustion, sizzling dreams of the Russian tormented me even more. I kept seeing the lost look in his eyes when he’d licked me for the first time. Kept hearing his husky words of praise when I’d taken his length so deep.

I woke after dawn with my clit throbbing, my nipples like arrow-points against the sheet. And a bounty of a man was right beside me. Nearly six and a half feet of muscle and power and latent sexuality.

Over the night, he’d turned on his front, drawing a knee up. Biting my bottom lip, I tugged the duvet off him. As predicted, I was growing used to the scars on his back, but not the rest of him. I moaned at the sight of his ass, those rigid muscles with sharp indentations on the sides. He lay so his shaft pointed back. His heavy testicles looked warm and relaxed.

Mouthwatering. I’d wondered if I should experience as much of him as possible. Seeing him like this, I found the answer so obvious. Of course I would. Why was there ever even a question?

I slipped between his legs. Laying my palms on his ass, I dipped down to drag my tongue over the firm head of his cock. He awakened with a groan. The slit beaded pre-cum, so I lapped it up. Another bead appeared; más para mí.

His dick hardened until he had to turn over. “I can’t tell which of your personalities I like better—the fiery Cat who comes out claws bared, or my sweet Katya, who steals between my legs so she can lap at my cock for a treat.”

I rose up on my knees, shamelessly fondling my breasts. “I can’t take much more of this, Máxim.”

“Then, congratulations, your tongue enticed me to free you.” He removed his key, unlocking me with such carnal anticipation, I gasped. I might have been willing to suffer all these hours again just to see that primal, masculine look. By the time he’d unstrapped me, I thrummed with need.

He lay back once more, his expression filled with intent. “Ride me.” The Russian looked very focused on what he was after.

I sighed with relief. Happily. But when I moved to straddle his cock, he said, “I can’t be inside you yet. You’re not to have more of my ‘vigorous’ f*cking until tonight.”

The doctor had told him that? So what was I supposed to ride?

He seized my hips and pulled me to straddle his face.

“Oh!”

He reached up to cover my breasts with his big hands, fingers pinching my sensitive nipples. “Show me where you ache.”

With a whimper, my hands dipped, and I spread my * above his mouth. This was part of my punishment for “deceiving” him? Más, gracias.

Running his face against my thighs, he abraded me with his morning stubble. He moved my fingers, replacing them with his own.

He opened me wide. I felt his hungry gaze inside me. “You ache here?” He licked the rim of my entrance.

I almost went off. “Ah! Yes, Ruso! Mmm!” I moaned against the back of my hand.

“What about here?” His strong tongue snaked over my throbbing clitoris.

“Oh—Dios—mío!” I arched my back.

He paused, seeming to make a decision. Without warning, he suckled my clit between his lips.

My eyes flashed open in surprise, my lungs emptying on a scream. “Máxim! I’m coming!” In total abandon, I gripped his hair as he tugged at my bud, sucking me off. His mouth was merciless. After a night of torture, I mindlessly writhed atop his face.

Over and over and over.

Once he’d wrung every moan from me, I tried to rise, but he held me fast and licked at my orgasm.

“No, let me go!” My thighs trembled around his head as he feasted. “Too much!”

He ignored my cries. As if he were in an agony of pleasure, his eyes closed, a growl sounding from his chest. Then he set in with a frenzy, forcing me toward another climax. A graze of his teeth . . .

“Too much!” I clawed at the headboard, struggling to escape.