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Dirty Love (The Lion and The Mouse Book 2)

Page 30

by Kenya Wright


  I touched her hand and pulled her back to me.

  Only a few inches lay between us as the elevator continued to go up.

  I pushed the emergency button.

  The elevator stopped.

  The bright lights went off.

  And then red light glowed above us. Silence came, although I knew building maintenance would be notified about the elevator acting up.

  I drank her in. The whole time, her pupils dilated as she stared up at me. Our lips were too close to not feast on her, and she smelled good enough to eat.

  “Can I taste you?” I whispered.

  And again, with no hesitation, she said, “Yes.”

  I kissed her. I could hold back no more. I’d waited until we were alone. And even waited a long year, making sure there was no competition. There would be no more waiting.

  I would finally have her.

  I took her mouth, thrusting my tongue gently inside. She moaned as I sucked on her lip.

  Not even looking back at the elevator’s control panel, I raised my hand and pressed the button.

  The bright light came on.

  The elevator rose.

  I deepened the kiss, demanding more from those soft, lush lips. Passion rode every thrust. She’d been my obsession, but now she would be my addiction. Already, I didn’t want to move away from that mouth.

  The elevator stopped.

  The doors slid open.

  She pulled back. Her lips were wet and swollen from the kissing. Her words were short and full of hunger. “Let’s go. Now. My bedroom.”

  A storm of lust consumed me. Uncontrolled desire.

  Finally.

  My cock stiffened as I licked my lips and followed her off the elevator.

  Five

  Ava

  Am I really going to do this? Yes. God yes. He’s gorgeous.

  It would just be sex. Fucking. Nothing more. This wouldn’t be about love or dating. All this would be was sex and pleasure.

  I deserve him.

  My emotions went raw. I rode a high after this performance, one that I’d never experienced. And then Misha spoiled me in the way only he could, drowning me in roses on stage, offering me anything I could dream of tonight. He’d promised to take me anywhere, fly me anywhere, and do anything I could think of.

  He’s bringing Grandma out here. Why is he so amazing?

  He was willing to do so much and offer so much, but that wasn’t why I wanted him.

  In the end, all I craved was him. And maybe it was the adrenaline buzzing in my body from the performance. Maybe it was the magic of the full moon and the electricity of the city. Maybe it was because I’d denied my body for too long. Perhaps I’d been dedicated and rational for far too long.

  In my head, I’d been determined just to flirt, have a drink, and maybe give him a kiss. When we were in the limo, I promised to take my time with him, truly get to know who the real Misha was.

  But then his tongue thrust into my mouth and all logic twisted into hot need. His mouth was rich and masculine. Strong and sensually violent.

  In the red glow of the elevator, his hands had stroked down my body. He’d curled his fingers around my hips, and I no longer could think about anything but his cock.

  I need him. I don’t care. I just want him.

  The penthouse door slammed behind us.

  I’d meant to lead him to my bedroom. Instead, he softly took my arm and pulled me to him.

  “I don’t know, if I could make it to your bed,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for too long.”

  I gasped as he pulled me into him. My breasts softened against his hard, muscular chest. Before I could part my lips to speak, he consumed my mouth and deepened the kiss with his tongue.

  The chandelier glittered overhead.

  “Misha.” Another gasp left me.

  He guided me back and pinned me against the wall. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to touch you? Taste you?”

  “No.”

  “For years.”

  “Years?”

  He nipped at my lips. “I won’t wait another minute.”

  He lifted me up. I locked my legs around his hips. My gown ripped a little on the side. He groaned, pressing against my core. His thick, hard cock pushed and teased my pussy. My panties soaked from arousal. My heels slipped off my feet and fell to the floor.

  He wrenched the top of my gown down, exposing my breasts. The cool air hit my nipples, making them stiffen.

  “Oh, Ava,” he moaned. “You’re so beautiful.”

  All I could do was watch him as he devoured me, tracking kisses down my neck. Touching my breasts. Licking my nipples. I moaned, unable to deal with anymore before exploding.

  “You’re my obsession, Ava.”

  “Misha.” I wanted to whisper more. I needed to ask him what he meant, but I loved the friction of his clothes against mine. I relished in the strong feel of his hard body against mine.

  “Can I have you, Ava?”

  “Please…now…”

  The tearing of my panties came next. Part of the silk still dangled on one of my legs, but I didn’t care. My thighs spread further as I held onto him.

  “Finally.” He unzipped his pants.

  I didn’t see his cock, but I felt it, right as he entered me.

  “Oh.” That was the only word that escaped my lips.

  “Ava.” Then his mouth was back on mine, searing my soul.

  Pleasure assaulted my body as he moved in and out with precision. So thick and long. I lost myself in him. In the rhythm. In the thrusts. In the strokes. My body twisted as he pinned me against the wall, pumping that big, fat cock into my pussy. My breasts bounced. My torn gown dangled with the movements.

  “Tell me,” he whispered as I came close to orgasming all over me. “Tell me.”

  My breathing picked up.

  Darkness rode his whisper. “Only me.”

  Delirious, I rode the brink of release, whispering back, “Only you.”

  What else could I say when it felt so good? All I could think about was him in that moment. He was all I yearned for. He was all I needed. There would be no other, if he came to me like this, with roses and adoration, with heated gorgeousness and panty-wetting kisses.

  How could I even think about anyone else after him?

  He gripped my hips hard and drove deeper, expanding and bouncing me on his cock. And all his words shifted to Russian.

  “I need you, Ava.”

  “Oh.”

  His Russian teased at my body even more. “I need you so bad.”

  I shuddered in warm passion.

  “Forever.”

  Pleasure flooded my senses.

  “Forever.”

  My heartbeats increased, pounding in my chest. My body tightened.

  “Misha.” I exploded in release.

  The orgasm shuddered through to my bones. A cry broke from my lips.

  And he came too. Hard, hot jet shooting inside of me. And I knew with all certainty that there would be no other.

  Epilogue

  Misha

  Ava belonged to me. No one else could be with her, and no else would do for me. It would take time and gifts, wine and listening. Whatever else.

  But she would understand one day. She would know.

  Only me.

  She felt too good. The pussy got wet just right. And watching her dance was the only reason I woke up in the morning and breathed.

  She had to know. If not, I’d spend the rest of the night showing her.

  She came hard, dripping all over me. And I orgasmed with her. For several seconds, I couldn’t see anything. I could only feel the pleasure trembling through. My breaths weren’t deep enough. My heart beats couldn’t slow down enough. And her sweet scent seeped into my skin.

  After this moment, I would never get away from her.

  Only me.

  Slowly, I set Ava on the floor. She was a complete mess with the torn rose gown dangling off her small frame. Her ches
t rose and fell. The bun leaned on the side of her head. Strands stuck out on the other side.

  I grinned happy with myself, wanting to mess her up some more.

  Between short breaths, she whispered, “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No.”

  “I…have some…”

  “No. I only want you, Ava.”

  She smoothed some of her hair down on the side and tried to lift her gown to cover herself. “Let me get myself together and—”

  “No.” I tenderly undressed her and slung the gown down onto the floor. The ripped panties—on one of her legs—fell too. “I want you fucked some more and moving under me. That’s what I want.”

  Stunned, she whispered, “More?”

  “So much more.” I yanked off my jacket and slung it to the floor too. “And I meant what I said.”

  “What?”

  “Only me.”

  She blinked.

  “Only me, Ava.”

  She parted her lips, but never spoke.

  “Answer, Ava, please. I won’t force it, but I fucking want it.”

  She whispered back, “We still have to get to know each other.”

  “We do.”

  “So much has happened.”

  “It has.”

  “I…”

  “What?” I gritted my teeth.

  “I don’t want to end up like my best friend…” She left the words out—dead, murdered, and destroyed.

  “No.” Shaking my head, I closed the distance between us. “I will never hurt you. I’ll always protect you.”

  She wrapped her arms around me. “How can you promise such a thing?”

  “Because I’m a force to reckon with, Ava.”

  “Then…we can try.”

  We would do more than try, but for now, her answer was enough for me.

  “We will try.” I lifted her in my arms and carried my beautiful ballerina to her bedroom.

  She gazed at me.

  In her eyes, I saw my soul.

  Tomorrow, I would bury my father in Prague.

  The next day, I would return to St. Petersburg and watch Ava perform as her grandmother sat in the balcony next to me. And I would deliver double the roses to the stage.

  But tonight…

  Tonight, I would make love to her, slowly making her mine more and more.

  She’d opened the door and let me walk into her life. And although I’d spent years loitering around her, waiting in the shadows for an opening, I was grateful that the moment had come now, when I was in so much pain from my father’s loss. And she’d lost her friend too.

  We’ll heal together.

  About the Author

  http://kenyawrightbooks.com/

  Kenya Wright wrote her first novel during her third year at UM Law school. She dropped out a month after the release and never looked back. Words are power, and Kenya wants to be the greatest wizard that ever lived.

  It's an audacity to inspire and teach the healing of love through arousal. It's this crazy idea that love can not only help a reader escape, but the story can also teach the person about being human, while making them laugh, cry, and hot for more sex.

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  Send your one-page query letter to info@zachevanscreative.com outlining a summary of your story, attach the first three chapters of your work, and please allow up to 2 weeks for a response.

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