Chapter 34
{Warning! This chapter contains mature contents not meant for young readers}
Drogen was achingly hard, the kind of need that made him tremble, made his control snap. A single kiss—that's all it took. The unbearable ache surged through him, and he couldn't hold back the low groan that escaped his lips. Natasha noticed it all—the tension in his body, the streaks of sweat forming on his forehead, the way his breath hitched every time her lips grazed his.
"Nat," he rasped, his voice raw and desperate. "Touch me… please."
Her heart pounded at the sound of his plea, thick with longing and unrestrained desire. He was usually so composed, but seeing him like this—vulnerable and undone—set her on fire. She wanted to give him everything, to see him unravel completely beneath her touch.
Her hands moved with purpose, sliding down his chest and toward his waist. She unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness, her eyes locked on his, savoring the way his body tensed in anticipation. When she tugged his pants down, his cock sprang free, hard and thick, throbbing with need.
A shaky breath escaped her as she wrapped her hand around him, feeling his heat, the way he pulsed against her palm. Drogen let out a strangled sound, a mix of a groan and a whimper, his head falling back as he shuddered at the contact.
"God, Nat…" he breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper, wrecked with need.
She started slow, her hand gliding over his length, teasing him with each stroke. His reaction only fueled her—how his hips jerked involuntarily, how he bit down on his lip to stifle the broken groans spilling from his mouth. But she didn't want him holding back.
"Don't fight it," she murmured against his lips, her voice a sultry whisper. "I want to hear you."
Her words shattered the last of his restraint. Drogen moaned loudly, his hands gripping her waist as if anchoring himself. "Fuck… faster please," he begged, his tone ragged.
She tightened her grip slightly, her strokes becoming firmer, faster. His head dropped forward, his forehead resting against her shoulder as his breaths came faster, more erratic. Each sound he made sent a jolt of arousal straight through her, and she couldn't help but press her thighs together, aching for her own release.
"Natasha," he groaned, her name leaving his lips like a prayer, a plea, as the tension in his body coiled tighter and tighter.
She felt him swell against her hand, his body shaking as he reached the edge. With one final stroke, he erupted, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he came, hot and thick, spilling over her hand. His entire body shuddered against hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.
He buried his face in her neck, his breaths shallow, his grip on her firm but tender. "You're going to ruin me," he whispered, his voice hoarse, laced with something raw and dangerous.
Drogen's breaths were still ragged, his chest heaving as he came down from his high, but the way Natasha looked at him—her flushed cheeks, the fire in her eyes—lit a whole new kind of need in him. He wanted her. No, needed her. Every inch of her.
His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "Nat," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "Now, it's your turn."
Before she could protest—or tease—he kissed her, hard and deep, stealing the breath right from her lungs. His hands were everywhere, sliding down her body, mapping every curve as though memorizing her.
"You don't know what you do to me," he growled against her lips, his voice a rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.
Her knees buckled as his lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, then to the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. She gasped when his teeth grazed her skin, a sharp contrast to the softness of his tongue as he soothed the bite.
"Drogen…" she breathed, her voice shaky, already lost in him.
His hands were firm yet gentle as they slid to her hips, lifting her from the bed effortlessly to sit on the edge of the table behind them. He stepped between her legs, spreading her thighs as his lips traveled lower, leaving a trail of heat along her neck and collarbone.
"I want to taste you," he murmured, his voice thick with promise, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher.
Her breath hitched when his fingers hooked under the fabric of her panties and tugged them down. The cool air kissed her heated skin, but it was nothing compared to the fire blazing through her as Drogen sank to his knees before her.
She looked down, her pulse racing, and the sight of him—this powerful, unyielding man—on his knees for her nearly undid her. His eyes locked on hers, dark and filled with hunger, as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, his lips impossibly soft against her sensitive skin.
"Drogen, please…" she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.
He smirked, his lips curving into something wicked. "Patience, Nat," he murmured, his breath hot against her. "I want to savor you."
And then his mouth was on her.
The first touch of his tongue sent a shockwave through her, and she cried out, her hands gripping the edge of the table for support. He was relentless, his tongue moving with practiced precision, teasing and tasting her like she was the most exquisite thing he'd ever known.
Her head fell back as he worked her, building her higher and higher with every flick of his tongue, every soft suck that left her trembling. She was burning, her entire body alive under his touch, her moans spilling freely as he pushed her closer to the edge.
"Drogen… oh God," she gasped, her hands tangling in his hair as she tried to ground herself. But he wouldn't let her.
"Let go for me," he murmured against her, his voice sending vibrations through her that had her toes curling. "I've got you."
And then he sucked her clit into his mouth, his fingers sliding inside her at the same time, curling just right. The combination shattered her.
Her orgasm ripped through her, leaving her trembling, her cries echoing in the room as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Drogen held her steady, his tongue and fingers coaxing every last tremor from her until she was left boneless and panting, her body slack against him.
When she finally opened her eyes, Drogen was standing, his lips glistening as he leaned down to kiss her. She tasted herself on him, and it sent another jolt of arousal through her already sensitive body.
"You're mine," he said, his voice dark and possessive, his forehead resting against hers.
Natasha smiled, her fingers trailing down his chest. "Only if you're mine too," she whispered.