“Relax for me, baby.” It was difficult not to move when everything in him urged him to drive deep. “You’re so fucking tight, Zelie.”
He forced himself to go slow, sinking another inch into that tight fist of scorching flames. He didn’t want to be rough with her, and he had to fight for control. Her lush body was producing a kind of rapture, pleasure he’d never experienced with any of the partners he’d had, not even as a teen.
“Relax, Solnyshkuh,” he coaxed. “Give yourself to me. Trust me to make this good.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m afraid you’re making it too good. I feel as if I’m losing myself in you.”
A feeling of utter joy burst through him. Triumph. “That’s what you’re supposed to feel. Let go and give yourself to me. You won’t regret it.”
Very slowly she widened her knees. He rubbed the tight knots on the insides of her thighs, using a circular motion. Always, he was gentle, cognizant of her fears. He waited for those inner muscles to ease just a little, enough for him to inch his way inside her. He stroked her clit with the pad of his finger, trying to ease not just the tightness of her body but also her fears.
He knew she was afraid she was giving him too much of herself, and she wouldn’t be able to pull back if he let her down. His fingers stroked, circled. Eventually, the helpless pleasure eased the tension on her face and in her body.
“I’ve never given myself to a woman, Azelie. Not ever. Not one single time. Not until you. I’ve never taken time with one, didn’t kiss, didn’t give anything of me. I got them off, but that was the extent of what I did. You’re so different. Everything about you, about us, is different.”
All the while he spoke, he worked her body and pushed gently to allow his cock to invade deeper into those scorching-hot depths. The strangling vise robbed him of air. He licked at his fingers, not wanting to miss one single drop of her addicting honey. He was careful not to surge forward. There would be no powering through those tight petal-like folds.
Her body slowly gave way to his invasion, stretching to accommodate his long, thick cock as he relentlessly sank into her. He couldn’t repress a groan. Sweat broke out as he held himself back from ramming ruthlessly into her.
“For you,” he murmured aloud. “All for you.” He was a man who had more control than most, needed it. Wanted it. But with Azelie, his control was threatened.
He’d never seen such a beautiful sight as his woman lying there, taking what he was giving her, his cock impaling her, stretching her. Each time she thrashed or lifted her hips in an attempt to get more of him, her lush breasts swayed and jolted. He began to make small thrusts with his hips, holding back power, setting a rhythm that rocked her with each stroke.
The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain. Her body so scorching hot and tight, surrounding him with those silken muscles, squeezing down on his cock like the tightest of fists. She had to stay still, or he was going to lose all control. He pushed farther as he wrapped his hand around her calf and drew it around his waist. That simple move allowed him to sink deeper. His breath caught in his lungs as her tight muscles loosened enough to allow him to push forward, sinking deeper and deeper into her.
He drew her other leg up and wrapped it around him. “Lock your ankles for me,” he commanded. His voice was deliberately velvet soft, but husky as he pushed forward again, this time burying himself all the way. He was surrounded by a fiery tunnel of silk, so tight the pain was exquisite. It felt as if her every individual muscle was wrapped around his cock.
Azelie’s body pulsated. That pounding beat radiated up his shaft to his sensitive crown. Pleasure burst through him. Now he had to move in her; he had no choice. The slow slide withdrawing had her gasping. Her eyes widening. Legs tightening around him. Even her inner muscles grasped at him.
“We’re going slow, baby, until you get used to me.”
“I don’t think I can wait for slow.”
He loved that little admission from her and gave her one hard stroke, surging back into her, sending streaks of lightning through them both. She gave him a scowl when he withdrew slowly again.
“You’ll like this,” he assured her.
He set a slow pace, driving deep but moving through her hot channel with a leisurely slide, savoring the way her tight muscles grasped and tried to lock down on his cock. He made certain to press hard on the bundle of nerves as he moved with lazy strokes. Color spread over her satiny skin, turning it a delicious rose. He kept his attention on her sweet spot, building her need.
All the while he could feel the power building in his body, his own need gathering. His balls tightened, signaling he wasn’t going to be able to hold out for long. He felt the force gathering in her body. Building. Always building. Fists of desire gripped his thighs. Her thighs tensed. He could see her breath catching in her throat. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as her delicate muscles, so scorching hot, locked down on his cock. He surged forward, hard. Several strokes. Over and over.
Azelie’s eyes widened in shock. The breath hissed from her throat. She cried out softly as the orgasm tore through her. The grasping, greedy muscles felt like a scorching fist, taking him flying with her. He drove through that paradise another three times, but then it was impossible to move. His cock jerked and pulsed in the silken fist as her body milked his, flinging him somewhere he’d never been before. He had the sensation of floating in another realm, surrounded by Azelie.
Maestro collapsed over her, holding her tight, his heart pounding out the rhythm of hers. He could feel her heartbeat around his shaft as his own throbbed in his cock. Never had he ever felt the way he was feeling. Not the bliss. Not the emotion. She might not be tied to him yet, but she owned him. He knew that. He would never be free of her. He didn’t want to be. He sent up a silent prayer to a higher power he wasn’t certain he believed in that she was the real thing. That she would never betray him.
TWELVE
Azelie wrapped herself in her largest robe. She’d taken a bath in her tiny bathtub and now she had to face what she’d done. She should have asked Andrii questions before she had sex with him. Now she didn’t know if she could bear to lose him. Still, she didn’t want to go into a relationship with her eyes closed.
Andrii was a scary man. Not in the same way Billows was scary, but there was no denying he was dangerous as hell. Just because he was so unfailingly sweet to her didn’t mean a relationship would work, especially with Billows looking over her shoulder and threatening anyone who came near her.
Andrii had been wonderful to her after having sex with her. He kissed her dozens of times, whispered how beautiful she was. How much she meant to him. How amazing she made him feel. He made her feel as if she were the only woman in the world. Still, that didn’t excuse the fact that she should have asked questions before.
Her apartment was extremely small, but she made certain she was a safe distance away from Andrii. He seemed to be able to cast a spell on her, and she had to have a clear mind when she asked him very important questions.
He was seated in one of her two comfortable chairs, his legs sprawled out, feet bare, wearing just jeans and his unbuttoned shirt. His laid-back position and the way he was dressed suggested an intimacy level she wasn’t sure she could cope with.
He had scars. A lot of them. Burn marks. Bullet scars. Ones from knives. What looked like whip marks. She hadn’t seen his back, but if his chest was covered in scars, she had to assume his back would be as well. He was heavily tattooed. She wanted to trace those tattoos with her tongue. Press kisses over the scars just as he had over her three. Three bullet wounds had seemed a lot until she saw his chest.
Azelie forced herself to ask the necessary questions. The important ones. “Do you own a gun?” She had to know.
Her heart went crazy, accelerating far beyond what it should have. She found she was more fearful of his answer than she was of Billows and his threats. She wasn’t falling for Billows. She was for Andrii.
She knew she was more than halfway there. Everything about Andrii appealed to her. He was sweet and caring. Very attentive. At the same time, he made her shiver with excitement, feeling the underlying power clinging to him. She had been on her own for as long as she could remember. Janine had taken her in when her mother had imploded, but she was expected to contribute to the household—even when Quentin wasn’t.
She had often made decisions with Janine she didn’t want to make. Neither woman had a choice when there was no one else to figure it out. She pushed herself to be definite and firm in her options, but her inclination was to put things off. Like Billows. She still didn’t have a great exit plan. She kept putting that off until she made it through college. Who knew what she would do then?
But a gun in her home? Guns in the hands of the man she might eventually live with? She wasn’t certain she could overcome that particular roadblock. The thought was terrifying to her. She kept her gaze steady on his. “Do you, Andrii? Do you own a gun?”
Andrii didn’t flinch or look away. “Several guns. And my guns aren’t my only weapons. I am a weapon.”
She touched her tongue to her upper lip, unable to decide how she felt about his admission. His tone was calm and velvet soft. He looked at her as if she were his world. Quentin had never looked at Janine that way, but he had professed to love her.
“Talk to me, Zelie. That’s what we’re doing here, being honest and communicating.”
She had to be real with him. Tell him the strict truth. If he couldn’t take it, they weren’t meant to be, no matter how much she wanted him. “The idea of guns anywhere around me makes me uneasy,” she admitted.
