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“Your asshole is sensitive, too.” He touched her there again and shocks of pleasure darted through her. She moaned with discomfort and need. “I could slide my finger into you here, or my cock, and you would still be considered a virgin.”
In her bottom? He hadn’t been kidding in the bath? The lurid picture his words painted both shocked and aroused her.
His mouth went back to her clit, but his fingers kept toying with her ass, not penetrating, but tickling and touching, making the tension in her body unbearable.
“Please, Sir.”
“Please, what?”
“I need . . . something. I need you in me.”
Konstantin said some very bad words in dangerous, guttural Russian, but it only made her want him more. His fingers stopped touching her for a moment, then they were back, wet, and sliding over her back hole. She whimpered, desperate.
He sucked her clit into his mouth and prodded her ass with a slick fingertip, and she felt him slowly broach her. The sensation of having him inside her, even just a little, was exhilarating and forbidden. She cried out. Her body took the pleasure he gave her and twisted it into an orgasm that made every muscle pulse. Her other senses shut down, and she was lost in it, only vaguely aware of the animalistic sounds she made. Her fingernails dug painfully into her thighs. His finger persuaded its way farther into her bottom, and his mouth and tongue coaxed her tender clit to a second orgasm.
When she was shuddering through the aftershocks, he slid his finger out of her.
“I’m going to use your thighs now,” he grumbled as he manhandled her down off the desk. He leaned her over, then urged her legs together. Her heart was thudding so loud it felt like it was shaking the desk. Whatever he was planning to do, she wanted it.
There was the sound of a package tearing and then his cock wedged between her thighs. He held her still while he slid in and out of the tigh
t space. He reached around the front of her and forced himself up closer against her sex. The motion and sensation had her rocking her hips to meet him. The groan in her ear made her quiver, arch, and she came again. Konstantin’s fingers were like metal on her hips as he pumped between her legs a few more times and then shuddered to a halt. The feel of his naked hips pressed against her ass frustrated her, and made her want him even closer.
It made her want the real thing.
Konstantin covered the back of her neck and shoulders with shivery kisses and wrapped his big arms around her, making her insides purr.
“You’re such a good girl for me, little bird,” he whispered against her nape.
God, she wanted him.
She was never going to last until their wedding day.
* * *
Everly poured Varushka another drink. “I can’t believe you drink this stuff straight up.” She scrunched her nose.
“I can’t believe you call that watery crap alcohol,” she countered, feeling proud she was learning the American lingo.
Kate hiccupped. “How are you not drunk yet?”
“Seriously.” Everly fell onto the couch in a heap. “I’m buzzed and you’ve been drinking all night.”
Varushka almost laughed. She was more than buzzed. They’d been giggling for the past hour. They’d started this “girls’ night” by watching what they’d insisted were the best American chick flicks while piled onto the L-shaped couch in Everly’s living room. The guys had gone to see a band Everly and Kate didn’t like so they’d promised to take care of Varushka. Did that include trying to get her drunk or did American girls always do this? Some sort of initiation ritual?
“We drink vodka like water in Russia,” she explained, hiding a grin when Kate hiccupped again.
“Oh!” Everly shot up. “Movie’s over! My turn to pick.” She stumbled across the room and held up the cover of a DVD.
Kate groaned. “Zombieland is not a chick flick.”
“What? It has romance.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Let Varushka decide.”
