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With Arsen, I don’t think you can ever be prepared.
He takes what he wants without warning. A man who kneels for no one. I don’t doubt it; he commands an army of killers who must do whatever he says.
The power he wields once annoyed me. It once filled me with irritation at the thought that he simply expects me to obey him. On what authority?
But now, as I lie beneath him, his naked chest rubbing on my nipples through my dress, I understand precisely what authority he has over all that he rules.
I understand the authority he wields over me.
It’s pointless to fight. My body wants to be commanded. I want him to take all control away from me. The thought that he will do whatever he wants, to shove my legs aside and use me until my throat becomes raw from screaming in pleasure … it’s more than thrilling.
It’s intoxicating.
A new fire builds inside of me—a searing heat that makes my clit swell, not from fear but from a desire so intense that I never realized it could exist. Arsen, if anything, has proven his need to protect me. His certainty in who he is and what he wants is the most appealing part of him. He willingly stood before me, naked, save for the art on his flesh, and explained his twisted life tainted by blood.
He isn’t ashamed of what he is.
And in his hands, neither am I.
His teeth clip my bottom lip. Pressing himself upward, he reaches between us to peel my dress down my breasts. Sliding lower on the couch puts his face level with my firm nipples. They’re tight from excitement; the air on them is enough to make my breath come faster. Then he cradles one between two fingers, tugging gently.
“Oh,” I cry out. “Oh my God …”
Manipulating my nipples with both hands, Arsen moves between them, suckling until they’re soaked in saliva. Each lick sends another jolt of lightning to my pussy. A light tweak of my right nipple encourages me to push my breast into his palm. I writhe under him, driving my hips up against his cock. The friction glides over my mound—if I gyrate hard enough, fast enough, I’ll shatter before he’s even inside of me.
My nails drag down his massive back, leaving behind trails over the impressive tattoos. Pink stripes mix with the black. My marks won’t be permanent. That thought wakes something primal in me; I grip harder, clawing him with all my power. It has to hurt, but he doesn’t even flinch.
“You’re so fucking eager, Galina.” His voice is husky—he’s wound up just like me. Grinding himself against my body, he bites down lightly on my left nipple. The pressure builds and I whimper. My inner thighs are slick with my own arousal. He dips two fingers down to feel my panties. “You’ll ruin my expensive couch at this rate.”
“Stop teasing me,” I beg. “I can’t take anymore.”
“Liar.” In a single yank, he tears my panties off and throws them across the room. “But I’m not as cruel as you think. I’ll give you what you want.” Arsen adjusts his position. When he does, I lift my legs, wrapping them around his body. I’m afraid he’ll leave me panting, shaking, lusting for satisfaction.
But he doesn’t.
Aiming himself, he centers his cock at the junction of my thighs as he spreads me with ease.
The angry red tip of his cock pushes inside of me, and my heart practically leaps to my throat in joy.
“Arsen!” I shriek, throwing my head back on the couch.
He’s barely an inch inside, and I feel like I’ll come from that alone. I knew he was big; when I gave him a blowjob, it left my jaw aching. But being fucked by him is like being torn apart in the best possible way.
Pain and pleasure mix until I’m dizzy.
How did we get here?
How is this really happening?
Most importantly, how is it so damn good?
Something touches my chin—he’s gripping me, turning me to kiss him. Those perfect teeth nibble at my lower lip, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. He leans in, kissing long, then kissing brief. I’m delirious from trying to predict his actions. He gets off on leaving me wondering what he’ll do. My hands ball into fists, clenching uselessly to the last shred of control while my brain screams at me to give in.
To let him take control.
To let him use me.
My tongue probes forward to meet his, and our lips lock above as our bodies do below.
