Bound to the Beast: Russian Hitman Romance by Ada Stone Read Free Book Online

making her wanton with lust. I made her come once and took a moment to indulge in that release while letting her recover.
     
    When she was still coming down off her high, I removed my mouth and my fingers. She whimpered at the loss, calling for me. She didn’t even sound like she knew what she was asking for, but it didn’t matter. I knew what she wanted.
     
    I stood and jerked my pants down, letting my aching, dripping erection spring free finally. The sound of the fabric hitting the floor must have caught her attention, because her eyes snapped open and focused first on my face, then lower to my erect cock. She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes wide, but she didn’t protest when I settled between her legs, this time our hips lining up.
     
    She shuddered as I slid my cock along her folds, moistening it before positioning myself at her opening. There was a moment where I could have sworn there was fear in her eyes. It was enough to make me pause.
     
    “You can tell me to stop,” I said to her huskily, though my body was screaming to just drive into her until we were both lost in oblivion. Still, I may have been the kind of man to indulge in the pleasures of women, taking what I wanted when I wanted it, but I never wanted something from a woman who didn’t want it, too.
     
    “No, please don’t stop,” she said, and that was enough.
     
    I pushed the bulbous head between her folds and popped inside of her, her pussy so tight that I groaned at having just that little bit in her. She had tensed again, so I gave her a moment to adjust. My hands massaged her thighs, her hips, her perfect tits. I rolled them around on my palms and pinched at the nipples until she was whimpering again, relaxed enough once more for me to add more of myself inside of her.
     
    It seemed to take an agonizing eternity before I was fully sheathed inside of her, but when I was, I could feel the very back of her. Her hands had found their way around my neck, clutching herself to me tightly. Her bare breasts pressed against my chest, feeling perfect and soft and making me want to do more things with those. Later. Because right now, my dick was inside of her, and that was almost more than I could handle.
     
    When I began my thrusts, short and insistent, she cried out every time, holding on to me tightly. But the problem with that was I couldn’t see much of her. And I really wanted to. Getting a hold of her wrists, I pulled her hands away from me and pinned them above her head, exposing her bare, perfect body to my hungry gaze.
     
    “I need to see you,” I told her simply, and before she could say one way or the other, the pace and depth of my thrusts increased.
     
    She threw her head back, her blonde locks splayed out across the bed as her mouth formed a perfect little ‘o’ that I decided, one day, I would slide myself into.
     
    I pounded into her, our hips colliding over and over again, moisture seeping out between our bodies to make the slapping sounds of our skin wet. She was making little mewling noises, incoherent begging, as I made her mine for the night. Her body was so tight and so much smaller than mine, perfect and better than anything I would have imagined on my own. Her breasts bounced and rolled, their movement erotic, sensual. I decided I wanted to try her from behind—but only if there was a mirror. Because I still wanted to see her. I wanted to see her breasts hanging low, bouncing heavily as I pounded into her, and I wanted her to be able to see me, too.
     
    And as soon as that idea struck me, I was hooked on it. “Susanna,” I ground out, my voice so low and gravelly that it was barely even able to form words. “Look at me.” Her eyes snapped open and focused on me, but that wasn’t what I meant. “No, look at me. At where we’re joined. At where I claim you over and over again.”
     
    Her eyes widened, as though she’d never watched before as a man drove into her, and I took some pleasure in knowing that