Chapter 8 Like A Prayer

• Anna
• His words are like lightning to my soul, and he smells incredible. Like leather and wood and sex. It's intoxicating, paired with the sound of his deep voice.
• "Nothing matters anymore," he continues. "Nothing does. Nothing but you and me. Right here. Right now. So..." His thumb rubs my bottom lip. "What's it going to be, moya plamya?"
• My head is telling me to get up and run. I don't even know his real name. I don't know what he's come searching for here. It can't be me. We only just met today.
• But my heart...my stupid heart wants nothing than to let him devour me.
• Our lips collide. Salvatore's chest rumbles with a pleased growl. I start popping buttons open, eager to feel his bare skin beneath my fingers. He's a literal wall of muscle and heat and I sense his heart racing underneath my palm.
• I want to taste him.
• Every. Last. Inch. Of. Him.
• His hands envelop me as he caresses my body, so far up beneath my dress I have half a mind to rip the damn thing off. I feel his fingers smooth up my waist and stroke my back... and then my bra pops open.
• My eyes widen with surprise. That was smooth.
• Salvatore breaks away from our kiss to look at me.
• "Is the door locked?" I pant.
• He nods. But then that grin widens as he peels my dress up and over my head. "Would it matter if it wasn't?"
• "What do you mean? Of course it would⁠—"
• Another kiss. Another embrace. By the time we separate, I'm practically naked in his arms, my hardened nipples rubbing against his bare chest as he sucks on my tongue and starts to slide my panties down my legs.
• And then he's pushing me down, his mouth trailing hot kisses down my jaw and neck to the valley between my breasts as he lays me out on the table.
• "Now, this," he snarls when he looks at me spread out like a feast for him, "is a fucking masterpiece."
• I blush, gasping when he leans over me and devours one nipple. His hands continue to massage every stretch of my body, and I don't know if I'm melting or flying or a little bit of both.
• "I'll... I can stay quiet," I assure him. I can—I've never really been one for loud sex. No one has ever pulled that sort of reaction from me.
• Salvatore lifts his head from where he's kissing my stomach. I feel his laughter against my skin. "I can guarantee that you won't."
• "I will," I say firmly, eager to prove him wrong.
• "What point are you trying to prove here? And to whom?"
• I shake my head. "You don't understand. They'd... they'd hear us. It'll never be the same for me."
• "Nothing will happen to you, or your job. Even if they hear us. I promise you."
• My back arches at the first glide of his tongue between my folds. His grip on my thighs tightens, then smooths up my legs to my waist where he presses me down. Oh my God, I don't know what to grab, but I need to grab something or I'm gonna buck off this table so hard it'll be like a rocket launching into space.
• So I fist my hands in his hair and tug the same time he nips and sucks and tugs and then sweeps his tongue even deeper inside me.
• I haven't...
• I don't...
• God. When was the last time Collins kissed me down there?
• Has anyone done this to me before?
• I can't remember. I can't fucking think. Salvatore is somewhere between making out with my slit and fucking me with his tongue... and then he moves up a bit.
• His wicked mouth latches onto my clit. His hands keep me anchored in place, but nothing stops the loud cry of pleasure from pouring out of me.
• Back and forth, back and forth, his tongue flicks and swirls and teases that small bundle of nerves that makes my toes curl and my hips grind against his face.
• And then one of his hands leaves my waist, and I think he's going to move on to something else⁠—
• I cry out again. He's filling me with his fingers—first one, then two—and instantly searches for the spot deep inside me that no one, especially not Collins, ever tried to hit.
• "Sing for me, moya plamya." Salvatore breathes over my pussy. He presses, his fingers curl, and I feel the sudden surge of pleasure when he finds that sweet spot inside me.
• "Oh God. Salvatore...Salvatore..."
• I'm writhing like crazy, hardly breathing fine, my moans pitching as the pleasure builds and builds and builds deep inside...
• And then it bursts open.
• I'm seeing stars.
• I don't know how long I ride that high. I don't know if I ever want to come back down.
• Salvatore holds me, murmuring his encouragement for me to just "let go, let it out, let them hear, let them all fucking hear."
• "So fucking beautiful," he whispers against my skin as he kisses the insides of my thighs. Then he's suddenly rising over me, dragging me closer to the edge of the table until my ass dangles over open space. His hands are the only things keeping me from crumbling to the floor.
• He kisses me and fuck, I can taste myself on his lips and tongue. It's so dirty. So... so wicked.
• I love it.
• He groans when I lick him clean, and I moan right back when I feel his hot, hard length slide over my core and tease my clit. We pull apart just enough to look each other in the eyes—and it's almost like he's asking me for permission.
• I bite my lip. And nod.
• This time, he swallows my cry of pleasure and I'm glad because I swear, this man is going to make me scream. He's spreading me open, pushing me to new fullness I have never felt. His cock is surging and pulsing and pushing... pushing... oh, God...
• "That's it, moya plamya, my little flame," he growls in my ear. "Let me hear you sing. Let the whole fucking world hear you sing."
• Salvatore wraps his arms around me and lifts me up. Up, up, until our chests rub and slide against each other and gravity helps him bottom out inside me with every. Single. Solid. Thrust.
• I can't...
• I'm not...
• It's too much...
• I want so much more.
• I don't know if I've ever been so completely filled. So stretched open to my absolute limits.
• So completely and utterly fucked.
• The table creaks and groans beneath us, battering against the far wall in time with his thrusting. His hands grab my ass and spear me on him over and over again.
• Moans turn into grunts and grunts turn into cries of deep pleasure. The cries turn into sobs as that sweet release builds and builds until I don't think I can hold back anymore.
• "Come for me," Salvatore orders between kisses on my shoulder. "I want to feel you come."
• That's all I need.
• He sheaths himself inside me right when that second bubble breaks and I'm flying, shattering, screaming his name over and over. My hips want to ride him and push him off but he's holding me there, filling me with him, and it makes me grind even harder on him.
• Salvatore groans. He's panting as hard as I am.
• But the moment I calm down from that toe-curling orgasm?
• He's pulling out, flipping me over, and smacking my ass.
• "I'm not done with you yet, moya plamya."
• Oh, fuck... I'm pretty sure I just came a little again.
• I hear him chuckle and yup, I did. I can feel the evidence trickle down my thighs. Pasha rubs his hands between my legs and caresses my thighs open wider. Takes his time kneading my ass like he's inspecting me. I don't know if I'm ready for him to go there yet, but I don't know if I'd refuse him, either.
• I feel him line back up right where I want him to be; I breathe a sigh of relief. He chuckles and gives my ass a loving squeeze.
• "Don't worry, beautiful." Salvatore swallows back a grunt when he starts pushing back inside me. "I'll give you plenty of preparation before taking you here."
• He thumbs me there when he says it. Not hard, not deep, more of a caress right outside the rim. It's enough to make me squeal with pleasure and feel him slide into me even more.
• "Fuck, baby..." He leans over me and kisses a fiery path up my spine. "You feel so fucking good..."
• He's stroking my ego almost as much as his shaft is stroking my inner walls. I push up onto my elbows and arch my hips up more. I'm not just going to lie here and take it—I'm going to give him exactly what he wants.
• What we both want.
• Salvatore smacks my ass again, this time with a deep growl of appreciation. It spurs me on and I ride him, grind on him, throw my hips back to take him deeper on every solid thrust of his thick cock. Now, he's snarling my name as much as I'm crying out his.
• "Anna..."
• I shudder. Lean back into him.
• I'm so fucking close.
• One hand squeezes my breast. The other hand slides down my body to press right over my womb.
• Something about that makes every fiber of my senses snap.
• I feel him pouring heat deep inside me at the same time I shudder even harder, sob even louder, chant his name like a mantra on my trembling lips. Salvatore holds me tight to him and grunts over and over, working himself into me deeper and deeper with slow, solid, punctuating thrusts that push that liquid heat exactly where he wants it to go.
• I can't feel my legs.
• Or my fingers.
• Or my toes.
• All I can feel are his kisses fluttering along my shoulders. His arms wrapped around me, holding me to him, preventing me from falling to the ground.
• All I can hear is my name breathed through his own panting gasps, paired with whispers in Russian that I can't interpret but that feel like something close to a prayer.