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After a moment, she rocked back against me, and I gave her more, pulling out all the way before slowly pushing back in. She groaned and dropped to her elbows, bracing her hands on the headboard. I knew this pussy was made to fuck, but . . . Jesus. I slapped her ass in frustration, and when she clenched around me, it took every ounce of restraint to maintain the slow pace.
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes settling on each lazy thrust. I rasped, “You like to watch?” and before she could answer, I fucked her a little harder.Her head fell forward, and the sight of her biting down on my pillow to quiet her moan sent a heady rush to my head, lighting a violent fire inside me. I hissed at the tight pull of her cunt, pressure tightening at the base of my spine. I was lost for a moment, taking her hard and watching her ass jiggle with every thrust.When she reached back and grabbed my wrist, her nails digging in, I realized it was a reflex of pain and slowed. She was pRelated chapters
Lost in Moscow's Secret 44
MY EYES OPENED TO A dark room, and confusion ran rampant until I saw the black sheet covering me and remembered I was in Ronan’s room. In his bed. With his body heat at my back. The clock on the nightstand said two-thirty a.m., which meant I was only asleep for thirty minutes before waking with a full bladder.The previous hours turned in my head. I’d anticipated sex and then for Ronan to slap my ass on my way out the door. I didn’t expect for himto say I was perfect and then kiss me until I fell asleep. I hadn’t known he had that kind of softness in him. It was more than I thought I’d ever get. So why did I feel so . . . empty?God, I really was an emotional fuck.Quietly, I pulled the sheets back and slid off the bed. When my feet touched the floor, I turned to glance at him. My heart grew heavy at the sight.He slept on his back, an armabove his head. He looked so human, so vulnerable, so handsome, it stole my breath to even look at him.Madame Richie’s laugh resounded in my m
Lost in Moscow's Secret 45
RONAN IWAS STILL IN MY briefs, my hands trembling as I poured some vodka into a tumbler. The outbuilding where Mila was locked up pulled at every muscle in my body like a magnet. She’d been out there for less than ten minutes, and each tick of the clock tightened an invisible noose around my neck. I couldn’t shake the feeling. I’d only distracted myself by turning on all the lights in the house and barking orders at Yulia. I wanted a cup of tea. My suit needed ironing. And why the fuck was there so much yellow in my house?“She will die out there.”I didn’t even hear Albert enter the room until he spoke. This was how men got killed in my position, but I didn’t give a shit right now. If the cold feeling spreading in my chest was anything to go by, I was already six feet under.“Get out,” I ordered.“It’s below zero. She could get hypothermia in minutes.”The words ate at my veins, but I told myself it didn’t matter to me. Mila had played me. She got under my skin, made me do shit
Lost in Moscow's Secret 46
MILAIWOKE AMONG BLACK SHEETS and a woodsy scent that consumed every one of my senses. Ronan sat in a chair beside the bed. His eyes were lowered, and his elbows rested on his knees as he twisted my heart-shaped earring between his thumb and forefinger. A single turn of the synthetic diamond symbolized our relationship: He held my heart in the palm of his hand, bringing it out to play sometimes before putting it back in his pocket to be forgotten.He wasn’t aware I was awake, and I took the opportunity to view his private moment. Still in nothing but his briefs, his hair glinted blue in the sunlight and was mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it all night. He was ink and vengeance and so very human beneath cold, steel armor.In Moscow, cartoon hearts danced in my eyes when I saw him. Now, in this wintery Russian fortress, the sight of himcreated a sharp ache in my chest that threatened to rip me in half.I wondered if Ronan’s conscience was responsible for him changing h
Lost in Moscow's Secret 47
MILARONAN DROPPED ME ONTO HIS bed from a height that made me bounce and fell on top of me. Roughly, lips and teeth ran down my throat, drawing a sigh from me. Even bracing himself on his forearms, he was heavy. The weight was perfect, yet so consuming, a fleeting thought of self-preservation rose to the surface.Though all uncertainty was forgotten when he pushed my dress to my waist, pressed his face between my legs, and inhaled.“Fuck, kotyonok.” He pulled my thong to the side and slid his tongue inside me.I groaned, my hips arched, and my hand found purchase in his hair. My legs fell open farther when he licked up to my clit, a shudder running through me.“God, yes,” I breathed. My fingers tightened in his hair to hold him right there, but he shook off my grip before moving his mouth back down to my entrance. I made a noise of frustration, which turned into a moan when he fucked me with his tongue.He pulled back, yanked my thong down my legs, and tossed the fabric to the fl
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Sweat ran rivulets down my back, my long hair was damp and stuck to my skin, and my muscles embodied jelly, moldable and pliant as Ronan put me through every sexual position known to mankind. We would have gone through three condoms by now—if we were using them at least. Not that I didn’t try to encourage it.“Wait,” I’d breathed nearly two hours ago before Ronan pushed inside of me. “Condom.” “You have an IUD.”“Condoms are for more than birth control.”“I’ve already been inside you bare. If I have something, you do too.” “That’s comforting.”He chuckled roughly. “I’m clean, kotyonok.” Then he filled me so perfectly my eyes rolled back, and my brain shut down.Now, I was on my back with my legs over his shoulders while he fucked me so hard I’d feel him next week. My moans trembled with every thrust, my nails digging into his thick thighs. He was less human and more like D’yavol when he fucked. He seemed to have a never-ending stamina and a criminal sort of purpose, as if he was
Lost in Moscow's Secret 49
MILAMY BREATH WAS STILL RAGGED, Ronan having just rolled off me. The simple action left me cold inside, and to distract myself from the heavy feeling, I needed to either leave or strike up conversation. I chose the latter.“What did you tell me you did for work that night when I asked?”“I went into detail about my chimney sweep business,” he answered lazily. I blinked. “You’re kidding, right?”“Nyet.” He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “Never thought a woman would throw herself at me after I told her I made minimumwage.”A blush rose to my already flushed cheeks—even now, while lying naked beside D’yavol. “I didn’t hear you.”“I know that now. You were too busy working up the courage to maul me.” “I did not maul you.” I frowned. “That’s such an aggressive word.”He laughed. “You were beyond sweet all night. I didn’t expect at the end of it you’d practically beg me to fuck you in a public hallway.” Then he added thoughtfully, “I almost did.”That was why he pushed me
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MILA THE SUN SHINED, CASTING A bright sheen behind my closed eyes, and rolled me in the soft warmth of heaven. Though the soreness between my thighs was the embodiment of Satan’s haremitself.I opened my eyes to find myself alone in D’yavol’s bed. I stared at the ceiling while the memory of yesterday returned with a vengeance.I didn’t think Ronan noticed my mini-meltdown in the shower—or maybe he did, and that was why he took the initiative to wash me himself. My hair, my body . . . but not my conscience.My mind worked backward, the memory hitting rewind from the moment I came, my head thrown back, beneath the spray of the shower. Each thrust had slid me up the shower wall, my thighs wrapped around his hips. Heavy breaths and Russian words. Stars on his shoulders. Stars in my eyes.I’d dropped to my feet, spun around, and rose to my tiptoes. He slid inside me from behind. My forehead rolled against the wall, my fingers sliding down the stone. His hand on my throat; his lips at
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RONANALBERT HELD THE BANKER BY his collar and punched him in the face. Blood and spittle flew through the air. Leaning back in my desk chair, my eyes caught and narrowed on a blonde hair on my shirt sleeve. My first instinct was to pluck the strand off as if it carried a flesh-eating strain of bacteria. The hair was yellow. And these days, the color made my chest feel ridiculously tight.The sensation was karma.I knew it would catch up with me. And here it was, making me feel awkward as fuck with a single strand of Mila’s hair. She clung to me when she wasn’t even present. Her summery smell, the feel of her legs wrapped around me, the sound of her laugh . . . All of it had burrowed beneath my skin deeper than claws.Albert’s fist flew. The banker’s jawbone cracked, and a tooth skidded across my desk.Karma could have given me something easier to deal with—like an impending atom bomb or a nuclear disaster. But no, the comeuppance karma had dealt me was feelings. What a cunt.Albert k
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