“What do you want me to say,kotik?” His voice is so guttural that it quivers along my spinal cord like my very own earthquake.
My bottom lip trembles as his fingertips burrow into the fleshy part of my upper thigh.
“You’re so big.”
Grateful that he’s in control enough to sense that’s a complaint, not a compliment, I hiss as he plucks me forward and does that thing he did last time—tips my hips up.
“Ohh.”
He sinks in with more ease now.
I squirm, still feeling full but experiencing less of that pinch from earlier.
When he begs, “Take it,kroshka,” and his zipper and the front of his fly comes into close quarters with my inner thighs, I know he’s all the way in.
His size, the sheer fullness, steals the air from my lungs.
With my hips tilted forward, I can appreciate it and crave more.
I use my hold on his hair to wrench his head back.
A rumble of annoyance filters through his chest, but I press a kiss to his mouth. Then, I snag his bottom lip between my teeth and bite it. “MOVE.”
Lust simmers in his eyes.
I see the flickering flames stirring from the embers and know I’ll burn in them.
Forever.
And his hips finally start to move.
Slow, shallow pumps at first.
Ones that steal my breath as he rubs against tissues that are newly awoken to the pleasure my man can give me.
It’s different than how I figured it’d be. More intense. More intimate. I guess I knew that, rationally speaking, but I love the weight of him above me, the heat of him, and that one secret point of connection that will tie us together forever.
My eyelids shutter as I savor the new sensations.
I don’t expect to come again.
Not when he already got me off and I can feel how he’s straining to find release too.
I embrace his pleasure, satisfied that I can give him this?—
“Maxim,” I moan when his thumb finds my clit.
He bites my nipple, harder than before, then rakes his teeth over the tip. Until now, I guess he’d been sucking it? I don’t know. But it was different to this.
I whine with the pain of it, but it’s in such a sharp contrast to the pleasure of his thumb over my clit and the slow and steady thrusts that the thrill of need overtakes me once more.
When he pulls back, I pout. “Maxim!”
He grunts something I don’t understand—whether it’s in Latgalian or Russian or even English, I’m not sure. But suddenly, he grabs my legs, crosses them at the knee, then settles them back against his chest.
“Oh, my god!” I cry out as he yanks my ass up and against his upper thighs.
There’s no slow and shallow anymore. That’s out of the window.
