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The pressure builds to uncontrollable levels just as his tongue reaches my clit again. One flick and I’m gone. I come so hard, I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. Strong, breath-taking waves of pleasure pummel me until all that’s left of me is a sagging doll hanging over the couch.
He’s removed his fingers, but his tongue continues to move over me with slow, determined licks. Avoiding my now too sensitive clit, he cleans my pussy with his tongue.
“I’ve found how I will keep you from yelling curses at me.” He kisses my inner thighs and raises to his feet. My arms are weak, but I manage to get myself back to standing. The blood rushes down from my head, making my feet unsteady.
He catches me by the arm and leads me to my bed. “Lie on your back, Pchelka. I don’t want the first time I fuck you to be from behind. I want to see your eyes when I make you come again.”
“What?” He has to be joking. “I can’t. I’m too… I can’t again.” Heat floods my cheeks.
He reaches behind his neck and yanks on his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.
Holy tattooed Russian guy, Batman.
I was right about the muscles. There’s nothing but muscles. His arms are ripped, his chest is ripped, his stomach—I didn’t even know there were eight muscles in the abdomen… which means I really should be studying.
“Of course, you can,” he says as he grips his belt buckle, undoing it then moving to the zipper. Through his jeans, I can already make out the steel rod that is his cock. So it shouldn’t be a surprise when he kicks out of his clothes, but when he stands back up, my mouth dries.
And then it waters.
His hand wraps around his thick shaft, sliding it up and down until a generous bead of pre-cum appears. Swiping it up with his thumb, he brings it to my lips.
“Taste me, Pchelka,” he says, pushing his thumb into my mouth, over my tongue.
Instinctively, I close my lips around his finger and suck the salty dollop. He growls, yanking it from my mouth.
“No more of that for now.” He climbs on the bed, his mere presence making me back up. My head hits my pillows.
“Luka—”
Whatever I’m trying to say vanishes from my head with the first thrust of his cock inside me.
Luka
I’m fuckingan angel God built just for me. She sucks in a harsh breath once my cock is buried deep in her pussy, while her body clamps down around me. The urge to pummel into her body over and over again until my balls empty into her is getting harder and harder to control the longer I hold still.
“Don’t, Pchelka.” I grind my teeth together when she moves beneath me. “Hold still. It will get better in a moment.”
She’s too fucking tight. It feels too good not to plow into her, but I’ll hold out until her brow unwrinkles.
“Have you not been fucked before?” I question, as I lean lower and brush my lips over her cheek. A single tear fell and left a track; I lick the salty flavor of her from my lip.
“Of course I have!” The indignation of her answer contradicts her words. I should have asked her earlier, but a woman this beautiful, this full of life and spunk, could not possibly have been without a boyfriend in her life. Though maybe they were too weak for her.
I’m not.
Pressing my mouth to her ear, I run my tongue over the outer shell.
“If I catch you in a lie, Pchelka, I will use my belt on your ass to be sure you never do it again,” I whisper into her ear, then press a kiss to her cheek.
She wiggles beneath me again and I growl. It’s too much.
Pulling back until my cock nearly falls free of her sweet pussy, I hold steady for a moment.
“Tell me the truth, Pchelka. Have you been fucked before?” I grind my teeth together. St. Peter will have a special welcome ready for me when I arrive in heaven for my saintly behavior.
Her cheeks redden and for a moment I think she’s going to lie to save her pride.
“No.” She looks away from me.
