Approval lit his eyes, a fierce, possessive pride. Spit pooled on his tongue, then dripped onto my lips again, trailing down my jaw, wet and obscene. His finger pressed in once more, and I sucked greedily, moaning around him, tongue working the length as he pushed deeper, harder.
Wet fingers dragged down my throat, gliding over the heat of my chest, leaving glistening trails that cooled in the open air. Viktor’s free hand slipped between my legs, gripping my thigh and spreading me wider, his body caging me in, making escape impossible, surrender the only choice.
My hips arched up, chasing every touch, desperate for friction. The soaked fabric of my underwear clung to me, every motion smearing more slick, every breath a plea for relief. Viktor’s face hovered just above my cock, eyes dark with want, mouth parted as he drank in the sight of me, ruined and aching.
Hot breath ghosted over the cotton, the sharp inhale as he pressed his nose to my bulge, breathing me in like he needed the scent of sweat and precome more than air. His voice came out rough, shakingwith control. “You smell fucking perfect.” Another deep inhale, nostrils flaring, eyes fluttering closed as if he could get drunk on the heat and salt of me alone.
Tongue traced the outline of my cock through my briefs, slow and reverent, the pressure sending sparks of pleasure darting up my spine. Each lap soaked the cotton, making it cling tighter, the shape of me obscene beneath the wet, white fabric. My cock jerked under the attention, the need almost painful, tip already leaking, staining Viktor’s tongue and lips with every drag.
Fingers hooked into the waistband, dragging the briefs lower, inch by inch, pausing to mouth at my hipbones, suck bruises into tender skin. My hands fisted in the sheets, whole body shaking, head thrown back as he took his time, every inch a prayer, every pause a test of patience and submission.
The fabric clung, damp and stretched, peeling away with torturous slowness, exposing the thick base of my cock, the swollen head, the heavy weight of balls tight and eager for attention. Viktor’s tongue licked the sweat from my groin, humming with pleasure as he nuzzled in, burying his face against the root, inhaling deep, letting the scent of my need settle into him.
Mouth pressed to the base, tongue swirling, lips sucking bruises into the crease where thigh met hip, his hands spreading me open, making space to worship, to adore. “You’re fucking gorgeous like this,” he rasped, voice barely more than a growl. “This cock—never seen anything so perfect.”
His words set me on fire. My back arched, thighs spread wider, greedy for more, for everything. The briefs finally slid down my legs, pooling at my ankles, leaving me naked, exposed, nothing between me and Viktor but heat and want.
A warm palm wrapped around the base of my cock, thumb tracing the thick vein, the slickness of his spit mingling with my own. Mouth hovered just above the tip, breath hot and sweet, tongue flicking out to taste the bead of precome, savoring it like the finest wine.
Tongue swirled around the head, slow and languid, teasing, lips closing over the crown, sucking gently, drawing out more slick, moresound, more desperate pleas from my throat. Hands cupped my balls, rolling them between strong fingers, squeezing just shy of pain, holding me open, exposed, vulnerable and adored.
“Such a big cock for a prince,” Viktor taunted, mouth hot against my shaft, tongue flattening along the length, licking up every drop. “Bet no one in this palace knows how filthy you really are. How much you love being worshipped, used, ruined.”
No answer came but the wrecked sound that tore from my lips, hands clutching the headboard, hips jerking up, begging for more, for everything. Viktor obliged, mouth engulfing the head, sucking harder, tongue flicking the slit, the grip on my balls tightening as he took more of me in, inch by inch, lips stretched around the thickness, jaw working to take as much as he could.
Spit dripped down my shaft, pooling at the base, fingers working it over the skin, making everything slick, perfect. His other hand slipped lower, pressing behind my balls, teasing the sensitive skin, massaging, making me moan, sob, beg for mercy.
Tongue traced the ridge, lapping up every drop of slick, humming with pleasure as he worked me deeper, mouth a furnace, suction relentless. “Could spend all night right here,” Viktor muttered, pulling off with a wet pop, spit and precome trailing from his lips, eyes wild with want. “Want to taste you, want to feel you come down my throat, want to make you scream.”
Mouth returned to my balls, sucking each into his mouth, rolling them with his tongue, lips stretched tight, the obscene sounds of worship echoing in the room. Teeth grazed the skin, tongue laving, fingers stroking my cock in lazy, filthy pulls that left me trembling.
Fingers pressed to my lips again, wet with spit and precome, and I opened for him, sucking them deep, eyes rolling back as he fucked my mouth, feeding me the taste of my own need, my own ruin. “Take it,” Viktor growled, voice thick, hungry. “Take everything I give you.”
He spat in my mouth again, letting it dribble over my tongue, mixing with my own moans. His other hand never stopped stroking, squeezing the base, jerking me in time with the rhythm of his tongue, his teeth, his lips.
Mouth engulfed the head again, bobbing lower, taking more of me each time, spit dripping from the corners of his lips, pooling at the base, running down to stain the sheets. My thighs trembled, hips rocking up, chasing the heat, the pressure, the promise of release.
“You want to come for me, prince?” Viktor asked, voice wrecked, full of filthy devotion. “Want to paint my tongue, my throat, these sheets?”
All I could do was nod, whimper, beg for it with every breath.
“Not yet.” His tongue licked up the shaft, sucked the tip, fingers teasing the rim of my hole, not breaching, just promising. “Not until I say. Not until you beg for it again.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, pleasure too much, nerves raw, body shaking, surrender total. “Please, Viktor, please, I need it, need you, need to come?—”
“Hold it for me.” Viktor sucked harder, mouth relentless, hands everywhere, working me to the edge and holding me there, denying me release, worshipping my cock, my balls, every trembling inch until I was nothing but need, nothing but want, nothing but his.
Tongue lapped up every drop of precome, humming with satisfaction, eyes locked to mine, possessive and proud and full of promise. “You belong to me,” Viktor whispered, mouth stretched around my cock, tongue flicking the head. “You’re mine. All of you.”
The heat broke as Viktor pulled off, spit connecting us for a second before it fell away. My body trembled with denial, every muscle begging for more. Cool air hit my skin as he rose from the bed, towering over me, chest heaving, eyes hungry and dangerous. A shiver tore through me—part desperation, part awe—watching him stand there, claiming space, untouchable and yet completely mine.
His hands found the knot of his tie, loosening it with slow precision, eyes never leaving my face. The silk slipped away, tossed aside with a flick of his wrist. Buttons on his shirt opened, one by agonizing one, every inch of skin revealed a new torment. Sweat beaded on his chest, the ridges of muscle and old scars catching the dim light, a map of everything he’d survived, everything he’d offered me.
A command threaded through his next words. “Touch yourself. I want to see how desperate you are for me.”
My hand wrapped around my cock, shuddering at the contact, pleasure sharp and overwhelming. My other hand slid up, pinching a nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger, gasping at how sensitive I’d become under Viktor’s mouth. My eyes stayed locked to his, greedy, drinking in every movement.
His shirt hit the floor, baring broad shoulders and that endless, perfect expanse of skin. He reached for his belt, fingers slow, teasing, letting the leather slide free in one measured movement. The sound echoed, a threat and a promise, making my cock twitch in my fist. Trousers fell next, leaving nothing but dark briefs straining over the line of his cock, thick and proud, demanding attention.
