Page 87 of Desperate Victory

A kiss to the other corner of his mouth, then he captured my lips. The kiss was a slow, devastating connection as he fisted my hair. Liquid heat poured through my system. Need that grew with every stroke of his tongue.

I ran my hands down his chest and then to the boxer briefs he wore. His cock damn near leapt when I stroked him through the fabric. I couldn’t rip the clothing off him, but I could free his dick up.

He groaned in between licks, then nipped my lower lip when I wrapped my hand around him. When I angled upward and then slid down on him. The stretch was a glorious burn.

I had some slickness, not quite enough and I didn’t care. I wanted to feel every inch of him. I craved the intimacy. His hiss as I took him to the hilt made me smile and then I kissed him again.

With one hand on my hip and the other on my nape, Pretty Boy urged me to move. I tilted my head back as he kissed a path down my throat to my breasts.

We rocked together, the slow grind of every deep thrust teased me. When he locked his lips around one of my nipples, it was like being struck by lightning. Then his fingers were between us and he massaged my clit.

My hips bucked of their own accord as pleasure shot through me. I continued to ride, but I added a twist to my hips. The pressure from both of us was enough to make me want to just come, but I fought my orgasm.

I wanted us to come together. Or at least, closer…

“Fuck,” I blew out a breath as he pinched my clit between his thumb and forefinger, thrust upward and sucked against my nipple. The combination of actions all at once, shredded my control and I came in a rush.

He slowed his motions, petting me through it as I spasmed around him and then I was flat on my back, staring up at him dazedly as he pressed my legs to his shoulders.

“That was one,” he told me and then began to thrust deeper as he teased my clit again.

“Oh… Pretty Boy…”

I stared up at him. Two of us could play that game.

He grinned and I thrust my hips up to meet his. He had so much control like this.

It was fantastic.

“You’re going to come again,” he murmured. “And again. I want you a mess on this bed and I want to feel you pulsing around my dick for the rest of the day.”

I fisted the covers as he increased the pace. Where the first part of the coupling had been slow and deliberate, this was fast, frenetic, and I couldn’t catch my breath as he shoved me over the edge.

I was still shaking when he pulled out, flipped me over and then thrust into me again. Lips next to my ear, he chuckled. The dark, delicious sound teased me as did the depth of his thrusts. At this angle, he could go much deeper.

A third orgasm caught me unawares and slammed me right into a fourth. I couldn’t catch my breath or my mind as heat and pleasure obliterated my thoughts. Eventually, the hot pulse of his release filled me and we collapsed together.

One kiss to the shell of my ear. Then another just behind it.

“I love you too, Mayhem.”

Chapter

Twenty-Six

MILO

Ichecked the address against the GPS on my phone. I couldn’t speak Czech and I didn’t try. The translation apps made navigating at least doable. Three days in Prague and our leads were thin.

Too thin.

In addition to not even getting a whiff of interest beyond the security Zhukovsky put on the theater and Ivy, Bodhi’s “friend” had failed to show up.

“He’ll be here,” Bodhi had said over breakfast a few hours earlier. The confidence wasn’t feigned. Until Hans showed up, we were still flying blind.

Then we got a call from—of all people—Margareta Waldemar. Well, Mayhem got a call from her. It had come in late the night before, not even five minutes after we arrived at the apartment we were renting. I didn’t want to focus on how closely the woman had to be watching us.

Half of me wanted to ignore the information, but the rest of me understood it wasn’t an option. Adam and Ezra had finally secured a meeting with the leader of a local Russian group.