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“Blyad',” Misha growls through clenched teeth.
Freeing his arm from my bite, I lick over the indents my teeth left, then whisper, “Sorry.”
Then he freaking pushes deeper. My eyes squeeze shut, and I whimper from the sharp burn. It seriously feels like he’s tearing me in half, and I’m pretty sure his cock’s about to hit my lungs that are struggling to breathe.
“Sorry,krasivaya.” He rubs his hand up and down my hip as if he’s trying to comfort me.
Opening my eyes, it’s to find him staring at me with total devotion – as if he actually loves me.
Emotion fills every inch of me, and as my chin quivers, Misha leans down to press a tender kiss to my mouth.
He rests on his forearm, trapping my hand that’s still holding onto him for dear life, against the covers.
When he pulls out of me, I flinch from the burning sensation, but nothing can prepare me for the intense sharp pain as he plunges back inside.
“Misha,” I whimper when the ache is too much. “It hurts.”
“I know,moy malen'kiy olen',” he says with a strained voice. “I can’t go slower.”
“Then go faster,” I gasp through the tears. “Just go fast.”
His mouth brushes against mine, and with his breaths crashing with mine, he pulls out and practically hammers into me.
I clench my jaw as tears spiral down my temples. Misha must see the pain written all over my face because he pushes his arms beneath me, and locking me to his body, I feel his mouth by my ear as he growls, “I’m so fucking sorry it hurts.”
He slows his pace to a lazy plunge, and it feels like he’s trying to imprint the feel of me wrapped around him into his mind.
I feel completely full, and with the slower pace, the pain fades until it’s bearable.
When my body starts to relax, Misha lifts his head to look at my face. “Better?”
I nod, a trembling smile forming around my lips. “Much better.”
“Good,” he grumbles, “because this slow pace is fucking killing me.”
My free hand cups his jaw, and the tips of my fingers relish in the feel of the five O’clock shadow forming on his skin.
“I’m good. You can go faster,” I say to encourage him.
Misha moves away from me as he moves into a kneeling position between my legs. He pulls his hardness all the way out of me, and when I see the blood coating his angry-looking cock, my eyebrows dart up, my eyes widen, and my mouth drops open.
Is there something wrong with me for finding the sight of my blood on Misha’s cock hot?
Misha sees my reaction, the corner of his mouth lifts into a wicked grin, then he swipes his finger through the blood and brings it to his mouth.
My breaths speed up as I watch him suck my blood off his fingertip, then he says, “Tvoya krov' na vkus sladkaya, malen'kiy olen'.”
Hearing him say my blood tastes sweet has my core flooding with heat, and I wish I could rub my thighs together to create some much-needed friction.
Then, as if the man is trying to make me spontaneously combust, he wraps his fingers around his cock and slowly pumps into his fist.
Holy. Shit.
I’m dead.
“That’s so hot,” I admit with a hoarse voice, unable to hide how turned on I am.
Misha brings his bloody hand to my face, and he coats my lips, jaw, and cheek with the remnants of my virginity.
