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Instead of freaking out, I’m wondering if he’d really kill someone for me. What does that say about me?
His hands trail down, stopping at the waistband of my shorts and I let out a low mewl.
“Lights.” I whisper and he looks up raising a brow at me in confusion. He doesn’t move until I speak again. “Turn the lights off.”
“Malyshka.” After a long moment of silence, perhaps after analysing the look on my face, he argues. “I want to see you.”
I don’t want you to see me.
I close my eyes, inhaling deeply and turn my face away from him. None of us move, fighting to win in silence until he finally gives up and moves.
I hear a sharp click, my eyes lids fluttering after sensing the warmth from the lights die.
It takes me a while to adjust to the darkness, feeling his presence through his scent flowing in the air and his body plastered to mine.
In one swift motion, he removes my shorts, sliding his hands inside my panties.
“You’re fucking soaked, solnyshko.” The tip of his fingers hover over my pussy, moving around in featherlike strokes, up and down, up and down, up…and…down.
“Tell me, it’s for me.” He harshly cups my pussy, his thumb too close to my clit, almost touching. Almost.
I start to grind myself feeling restless when his tsks. I feel his head shake against my chest as he drops it right in the centre of my breasts.
“Tell me, you’re fucking dripping for me.”
“I-I”
“Say it, baby and I’ll make you feel so good.” He promises and I’m nodding, seemingly forgetting the darkness we are shrouded in.
“I’m wet for you.” My voice turns into a loud satisfactory yelp as his warm thumb touches my clit and starts rubbing it.
The room is steeped in shadow, but I can still make him out. The outline of his shoulders, the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint fall of dark strands across his forehead.
His clothes rustle as he removes my wet panties discarding them somewhere and leaning low, too close to my core that I tense.
Before I learn what he is doing I’ve already begun chanting in my brain, grabbing onto the slippery ropes of my control.
He cannot see my scars. He cannot see my scars. He cannot see my scars. He cannot see my scars. He cannot see my scars.
He drops a kiss on my inner thighs and I feel the blood draining from my face. I hold my breath for what feels like minutes until he’s moving again.
He cannot see my scars.
I’m hardly breathing so when his tongue meets my core, he steals the breath right out of my soul.
My panic fades into pleasure as he licks me a second time. He’s no longer careful as his movements grow impatient, and he closes his lips around my clit. His teeth nibbling on the little bundle of nerves, almost making me sit upright.
His hands shoot forward, settling me, forcing me down on the bed by pressing me it against my chest. I fall back with a thud, losing any semblance of control over my body.
“Fuck, baby you taste better than I imagined.” The low rumble of his words spoken around my clit, makes my entire body light up like the Fourth of July.
His hand drags down from my chest as he grabs my ankles, resting them on his upper back, opening my legs wide for him to devour. “Mhmm…perfect.”
His low, sensual voice shoots currents down my spine. His tongue lapping up my juices all the while grunting and growling like a madman.
He parts my legs with little to no force as I open them eagerly and let him lick me with a greed possessed by no one.
“Oooh, S-Sergei.” My voice is unrecognisable. So high pitched and throaty as I’m nothing more than a whimpering mess, grinding myself on his tongue.
