When he leaned over me once more, I threaded my fingers through his thick hair. In my ear, he murmured Russian words, then he took my mouth. He’d liked it when I’d sucked on his tongue, so I did it again—
He growled into our kiss, his hips shooting forward between my legs. It didn’t hurt, he only wrenched a moan from me. He withdrew, then sank even deeper. And it was f*****g hell… Increíble!
I broke away to cry, “Yes, yes! Luchik. Right THERE!”
Leaning on his forearms, he began to surge into me. His black hair was messy from my frantic grip, his eyes hooded. He stared down at my face, brows drawn, as if I’d confounded him. He had stared at me that day in the kitchen before we found out we were mates the same way. Like he doesn't know where to place me and at the same time, like he know
