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I don’t want to stop him.
Slowly, he leans in until our lips are touching - his warm breath mingling with mine - before he slams his mouth down on mine in a rough kiss that leaves no room for doubt about who’s in charge.
His tongue plunders my mouth, claims it… nothing like the seductive exploration that left my knees weak before. But they’re weak again anyway, and I moan as he slides his fingers along my jawline to tilt my head back even more. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m kissing him back. Tentative, clumsy, but passionate. He doesn’t seem to mind any of it; if anything, it spurs him on, his kiss deepening, becoming more forceful. And if anything, it turns me on even more. When he nips my lower lip, I whimper and fist his shirt, tugging him closer.
I can’t get enough of this feeling. I’m hot and cold all at once. I want to hitch my knee over his hip and rub my mound against him. The ache there is building into a dull throb that’s matched by a tingling in my nipples.
Have I just discovered a new hobby?
Is this what sex feels like?
Even as I think that, I know it’s not true. It’s him who makes me feel this way. He’s no ordinary man, that much is clear.
“Blyad,” he groans, breaking away from my lips, only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down my jawline to my neck. He sucks on my pulse point just below my earlobe before biting it lightly. I jolt in response.
“Ohhh… Oh, God…” I moan as goosebumps break out on my skin. When he grinds against me, I can feel the rock-hard ridge of his cock pressing against me.
I choke out a gasp. I don’t know much about cocks, but I’m pretty sure the size is more than impressive. It’s not like I haven’t seen pictures of naked men on before. My father may have shielded me from most of the world, but he couldn’t shield me from all of it. As for Kirill’s size, I’m sure it’s bigger and harder than the ones I’ve seen on the internet.
I arch toward him, pushing myself against that thick bulge. He makes a low rumbling sound deep in his throat before taking my mouth again. It’s slower this time, as if he's learning the depths of me, his hands moving down my back to pull me closer. It’s not close enough. I thrust my hips forward, clinging to him.
How the hell did I get here?
Just minutes ago, I was hurling insults at the man, and now here I am, melting into a puddle at his feet. “I've never forced myself on a woman in my life,” he had said. Now I understand why. If he used these skills on them, I bet there’d have been women lining up outside his bedroom door. Which makes me wonder again why he brought me here in the first place. But I don’t wonder for too long. His hands continue to explore me, mapping the curves of my ass, before trailing over my hips to the front of my pants. He unbuttons them with a practiced flick of his wrist before looking up at me.
“Still don’t want me to touch you, Ptichka?” He traces a fingertip along the small strip of bare skin that’s exposed at the top of my pants.
I answer with a small shake of my head.
His lips curl up into a dark, wicked smile that should annoy me. But it doesn’t anymore. Reaching for the hem of my shirt, he slides it up my chest and then pulls it over my head and tosses it aside. I’m wearing a plain white cotton bra beneath it, and now I wish it was black satin. But he doesn’t seem to care. From the way his eyes trail over me, I could be wearing La Perla… and it makes me feel beautiful.
Dipping down, he lowers himself until he slowly takes a hard nipple into his mouth. He nips at it through the fabric, and I’m gone once again. I arch my back and slide my fingers into his thick, silver hair. I grip more firmly when he slides down my torso, trailing the tip of his tongue over my skin until he reaches my navel. Sinking back onto the bed behind us, he sits in front of me, his hands on my hips, my pants open before him. When he tugs them down my thighs, I don’t resist the slightest. Instead, I just step out of them as they drop to the floor and pool around my feet.
“Open,” he commands, pushing my knees apart. My legs part slightly, and I give a little moan as his hands slide up the inside of my thighs. His touch has me shivering, and a thousand images race through my mind from the dream I’d had of him recently. My cheeks burn as I imagine that I’m about to find out what it feels like in reality. When his fingers graze over my cotton-covered pussy, I gasp sharply. It’s only the lightest of touches, but it shoots straight to the depths of me.
“Oohhh…” I breathe out, not sure what I should be doing next. But my body seems to know because I’m rubbing against his hand, desperate for more friction. When he reaches up to my bra and pulls the strap down, I take a quick breath.
My breasts are free. They spill over the top of my bra, my nipples tightly puckered.
“Ty prekrasna,” He murmurs, pinching one nipple then the other, first lightly then more forcefully. The moan that tears from me is throaty and deepens as he finds my clit and rubs it through the cotton.
“Ohhh… shit! Oh my God!” I choke out, my hand clutching at his shoulder. He’s at eye level with my pussy, and my cheeks flame as I watch him examine me with heated interest. When he leans forward and sucks down on my clit through the fabric, I almost go through the roof. My fingers dig into the heavy muscles of his shoulder as I try to stop myself from falling to the floor.
“Oh… my God! What… how are you doing that?” I sway slightly, my breath coming fast.
“You’re going to come for me, Ptichka.” He keeps up the friction of his fingers along my slit. “I need your cunt nice and wet when I fuck you.”
God, he’s such an arrogant ass. But right now, I don’t have a snappy response in my vocabulary, and any thoughts I may have had go right out the window when he suckles on my clit once again.
“Oh! Oh, fuck!” I sway, and almost fall. Luckily my fingers have such a grip on the muscles on his shoulders that my nails are biting into his skin through his shirt. It doesn’t slow him. His fingers stroke a steady rhythm along the seam of my pussy while he keeps working my clit through the fabric. It goes on until I’m almost completely mindless with the pleasure. And when he suddenly nips down on the sensitive bundle of nerves, it’s the end of me.
“Ohhhhh… fuuuck!” I cry out, my hips thrusting forward hard as I feel a flood of juices soaking into my panties. “Fuck… fuck… yesss! Oh, my God!”
My orgasm washes over me like a tsunami of boiling lava, and for a moment, my vision becomes blurry. My head is spinning, and I think the only reason I don’t fall crashing to the floor is that his hands are holding me in place. It’s unreal. When the feeling starts to subside, I can’t help staring at him in surprise. My cheeks are still flaming hot, the warmth seeping down my throat to my chest.
“How… what… how did you do that?” My voice is hoarse.
“Practice,” he says, rising abruptly. I stare at him in a daze as he unbuttons his shirt and slips it over his shoulders.
