Home > White Nights (White Nights #1)(10)

White Nights (White Nights #1)(10)
Author: Anna Zaires

Is he about to take me right here, in the back of this car, with his driver only a thin partition away?

“Shh,” he soothes, kissing me again while kneading my breast, testing its shape and texture.

“No, wait,” I moan, arching into his touch despite myself. “We can’t. Not here.”

He lifts his head, staring down at me with an intent look on his face. “Just let me touch you, kiska,” he whispers harshly, brushing his palm back and forth against my hard nipple. His accent is heavier than usual, his voice thick with arousal. “I won’t do anything else until we get home, but I need this. I need to touch you, to feel you. God, you’re driving me crazy. I need to be inside you so fucking bad, but I won’t take you, not until we’re alone.”

I stare at him, my heart pounding like I’ve just run a marathon. The throbbing between my legs is as strong as if I were on the verge of an orgasm, and he hasn’t even unzipped my jeans. With his hand still inside my sweater, he’s rolling and massaging my nipple with exactly the right amount of pressure as his heavy weight presses me down, holding me in place.

I want him so badly I can barely think or process the sensations coursing through my body. “Please, Alex,” I whisper, not knowing if I’m begging him to stop or continue, but then the car slows down and comes to a stop.

The driver’s side door opens and Yuri gets out.

“We’re home,” Alex says roughly, sitting up and bringing me with him. “Let’s go in.”

Disoriented, I let him pull me out of the car and lead me toward a large house. His arm is wrapped firmly around my shoulders, as if he’s afraid I’ll change my mind and run away.

Before I know it, we’re in front of the house, and he opens the door and leads me inside. As he turns on the light, I catch a glimpse of modern furniture and gleaming wooden floors. Suddenly, my world tilts as he lifts me, swinging me up into his arms.

Startled, I clutch his neck and shoulders. I’m a grown woman, yet he picks me up as easily as if I weighed five pounds.

“What are you doing?” I manage to say, clinging to him as he carries me up the wide staircase to the first floor.

“Taking you to bed so I can fuck you,” he replies, his accent still noticeably pronounced.

He doesn’t sound winded in the least, as though it’s not a big deal to carry a grown woman up a flight of stairs. And maybe for him, it isn’t. The thought gives me a strange inner thrill, as does the steely strength of the arms that hold me so securely. The crudeness of his words both offends and excites me, adding to the pulsing ache between my legs.

Before I can say more, he brings me into a dark room and carefully lowers me to my feet. Releasing me, he steps to the side and flicks on the light switch.

A soft, warm glow floods the room, illuminating a four-poster bed. The sheets are white with dark brown edges, a color scheme prevalent throughout the room. Contemporary paintings decorate the walls, and a red vase with exotic flowers stands on a dresser in the corner.

It’s a masculine room, tastefully done, and under different circumstances, I would’ve loved to explore. Alex doesn’t give me time. He takes a step back and brings me toward him with an arm around my waist and a hand in my hair, holding me still for another deep and carnal kiss.

As before, all my worries and inhibitions melt away in the heat of his embrace. Winding my arms around his neck, I kiss him back hungrily, sucking on his tongue and nipping his lower lip. He groans at my passionate response, tightening his hand in my hair almost to the point of pain. Then, with a suddenness that startles me, he pushes me away, leaving a couple of feet between us.

“Take off your clothes,” he orders hoarsely, gripping the hem of his sweater and pulling it over his head.

Mouth dry, I watch him undress. Underneath the sweater, he wears a white T-shirt, which he removes next, revealing a powerfully built chest and a flat masculine stomach covered with a layer of hard muscle. His skin is lightly tanned, as though he’s been in the sun recently, and a faint dusting of dark hair is visible around his nipples. Without his clothes, he looks even bigger and more intimidating, his muscles sharply defined and his shoulders impossibly wide.

What kind of sport does he do to be in that kind of shape? I doubt it’s just going to the gym a couple of times a week. He reminds me of an ancient warrior, a man who wouldn’t be out of place swinging a broadsword and riding on top of a giant steed.

Seeing that I’m not undressing, he stops after kicking off his shoes and gives me a narrow-eyed look. “Well?”

For some reason, I feel a strong urge to please him. Not wanting to analyze that too much, I begin to remove my clothing, my hands trembling with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. I take off my boots first and then my sweater. All the while, he watches, his gaze scorching in its intensity.

Finally, I’m clad only in my jeans and a pink bra. It’s unfastened in the back from our make-out session in the car and is almost falling off me, exposing far more of my breasts than the manufacturers intended.

Feeling inexplicably shy, I stop. I’ve always been comfortable with my body, but with Alex, I can’t help feeling insecure. Am I pretty enough for someone who probably has the most beautiful women in the world chasing after him?

At my pause, his eyes darken. Stepping toward me, he pulls me against him with a firm grip on my hip. “You’re gorgeous,” he growls, holding me with one hand and using the other to remove my bra. “I knew you’d be. Even in scrubs, you were so damn sexy I wanted to fuck you right there, right in the middle of the goddamn ER.”

I stare up at him, my breath catching. “So why don’t you?” I whisper, hardly cognizant of what I’m saying. “Why don’t you fuck me right now?”

He gives a harsh laugh. “Oh, I will, kiska. I will.”

Pushing me flat onto the bed, he unzips my jeans and pulls them off my legs, leaving me lying in nothing but the pink thong that matches the bra.

He makes quick work of stripping off the rest of his clothes, never moving his eyes from my near-naked body. His face is taut with lust, and as his jeans and briefs come off, I find myself watching him just as intensely.

His thighs and calves are thickly muscled, just like his arms and chest. Whatever he does to stay fit has given him a perfectly proportioned figure. My gaze homes in on his cock, and I swallow hard. He’s big, much bigger than any man I’ve seen outside of a porn video. With a mixture of apprehension and excitement, I realize I won’t manage to take him easily.

His eyes still locked on me, he opens a nightstand drawer and takes out a condom. Ripping open the packet, he rolls the condom onto his shaft with a practiced motion before climbing onto the bed. His movements are slow and deliberate. I scoot back, my heart pounding as he leans over me, caging me with his arms.


Whatever I was going to say gets lost in a gasp as he bends down and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking the hardened tip deep. I forget my words. All rational thoughts fleeing, I arch off the bed with a strangled cry. His mouth is hot, burning my sensitive skin, and as he slides a hand between my thighs and palms my wet sex through the thong, tension builds inside me, intensifying unbearably as he presses down firmly, stimulating my aching clit.

Beyond aroused, I twist my hips, brushing against his rigid cock. He inhales sharply. With startling roughness, he grips the scrap of fabric that covers me and tears it off, provoking a gasp from me. Before I have time to recover, he pushes his heavy thighs between my legs, spreading them wide, and presses his cock against my opening.

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