Until the End (Volkov Bratva #2)(32)

It wasn’t just lust that heated the air around them--not even the rocks--it was something more, something greater than she could attach a name to. For a little more than a year, they had managed to stop just before they’d gone all the way, reasons unknown to her, but she doubted there would be any stopping now.

Lauren realized she’d still been clutching her towel--his eyes focused on it--and as she pried her fingers free, she loosened the towel as well. She hoped he wouldn’t deny what she wanted again, she didn’t think she could bear it.

But before they got to that point, she wanted to do something for him first.

Standing, she let the towel fall, almost smiling as his tongue swiped out to wet his bottom lip. She was mesmerized by the captivated look in his eye as he drank her in, but she couldn’t be distracted by that.

When she was close enough to touch him, she started with his shoulders, trailing her fingers along his skin, doing the same thing to him as he always did to her. She could understand why he did it, feeling the change overcome him, the muscles clenching beneath her touch.

As she drifted lower, she slowly went down to her knees, causing Mishca to blow out a breath as he watched her curiously, waiting to see where she would take this, but he didn’t have to wonder long as her hands stopped on his towel. She met his eyes only briefly, just to be sure this was okay before she tugged it loose, pulling the two halves apart.

He was already hard, no doubt from the show she had just put on, and with that image, she met his eyes and said, “I want to try it.”

If the dark curse he muttered in Russian was anything to go by, he knew exactly what she way saying, and from the look of anticipation glowing in his eyes, he was all for the idea.

“I don’t…I want to know what you like,” she said breathlessly as he sat up.

After shoving his hands through his hair, pushing the damp strands back out of his face, he reached for her hand, drawing her closer a few more inches.

He gave a single definitive nod, acknowledging what she had said to him, then easily wrapped her fingers around the base of his penis. She remembered this much from their last time together, how to hold him just a little bit tighter than she normally would have. He hissed in a breath, making her relax her hold, but he quickly let her know that she had been doing it correctly.

She thought of the flicks she had watched in preparation for this, but in the moment, every tip she thought to remember was forgotten.

Staring down at it, she tried not to psyche herself out, knowing that it couldn’t be as difficult as she thought it would be. The fundamentals were simple enough, but she didn’t want to disappoint him.

Not wasting another second--or her nerves had gotten the better of her--she tentatively leaned forwards and took him into her mouth, just the head, enough to elicit a reaction out of him, one that sent a shiver down her spine.

He was on edge, his thighs taut, his hands resting on either side of them, his knuckles blanched from the force. When she took a bit more, he cursed again, this time in English, a long drawn out word that let her know he was enjoying this as much as she was.

Starting a slow rhythm, she carefully went about it, not daring to take too much in case she choked. His hands drifted from their positions on the bench to her hair, his fingers gliding through the strands before fisting.

She lost herself in it, enjoying the fact that she was pleasing him, more pleased with his reactions. The further she went down on him, his hands would tighten reflexively before going slack when she hollowed her cheeks. When she slowly, albeit a bit awkwardly, moved her fist in the same movement as her mouth, he groaned a harsh, broken sound that turned her on more than she ever thought possible.

Just as she was getting into it, however, Mishca was being rather careful with her. Even in this, as he was normally, he was in complete control.

She wanted to break that. She wanted to see him unrestrained.

Inspired Lauren did everything she could think of to illicit a bigger and greater reaction out of him...and that’s what she got. When she thought to tease him, swirling her tongue around the smooth underside, he said her name, almost like a prayer, and the power she wielded in that moment was heady.

It seemed, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He tugged on her hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to get her attention, pulling her up from her knees and onto his lap in one smooth movement.

His mouth slammed down on hers, stealing her breath away as his hands drifted down to her butt, squeezing possessively. If she had any doubt that he’d enjoyed what she had done, he had no quelled them.

That control she thought she had, he took that as well, but she loved this side of him.

“Lauren?”

It was enough, just her name said in his gravelly tone that let her know it was about to happen, but there was still a question in his voice, as though he needed confirmation from her before he started.

“Yes.”

Hauling her up, he carried her into their bedroom without breaking his stride. Now, Lauren could see what he had been doing earlier.

There was a cart near the foot of the bed, filled with silver covered trays. She wondered what might have been in them, but she was too captivated with Mishca to care.

He dropped her onto the bed, quickly following her down as he began kissing his way down her body at an almost feverish pace.

He sucked a taut nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue around it, coaxing a moan out of her as she reached for him, needing to feel him.