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I don’t even try to stop the grin from forming on my lips. I grab her chin, dragging her gaze back to meet mine. “That makes me happy, Pchelka.”
“I’m so glad.” Her tone suggests otherwise, but I’m not in the mood for an argument. Now that I know, I will take my time. Savor her and make her feel good. So good, all men will be ruined for her once I’m done.
“You can scream, Pchelka. It will make it feel better for us both.” And with that, I thrust forward. Her body welcomes me now, opening for me and cradling me as I plow slowly in and out of her. It’s torture, but each thrust opens her more for me and her bottom lip disappears more between her teeth.
“Rub your clit, Pchelka. I want you to touch yourself while I fuck you,” I order her and pull her hand to where our bodies connect. “You touch yourself late at night, yes?”
With her lip still embedded between her teeth, she nods. I’ll allow the silence this one time, but only this once. Her fingers brush against my cock for a brief moment. It’s enough to make my eyes cross.
Fuck.
Her body stretches around me as I fuck her harder. She arches her hips off the bed, taking me even further.
“Yes, baby, like that.” I stroke her face. “Fuck, you feel good, so good.”
She spreads her legs more and pulls her knees up toward her chest.
“Eto verno. Voz’mi moy chlen, malyshka, voz’mi kazhdyy santimetr.”I piston my hips and thrust faster, grinding my pelvis into her clit, pushing her own hand harder against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Tvoya kiska szhimayet moy chlen tak.”I look down to where her gentle fingers are playing with her wet, swollen clit. The taste of her lingers on my tongue. Sweet like honey, and I’m hungry for more of it.
“Oh, God.” Her mouth drops open, her cheeks burst with color.
“So, close, baby, so close. Come for me, come for me hard.” I brush away her hand and take over touching, pinching, and fondling her while driving my cock deep into her pussy.
Her breath labors, and she pants until finally she explodes beneath me.
“Oh fuck!” she screams, but the sound cuts off after the last word and her mouth remains open, her eyes clenched, and her body wound tight as her orgasm rips through her for a second time. Her pussy grabs me, tighter and tighter as the waves of her release crash through her body, dragging me relentlessly to my own release.
I want to unleash into her pussy. I want to mark her passage as mine, but there are consequences for such things.
I push forward, harder, harder, harder still until my balls pull so tight it’s painful. Only then do I pull free of her body and jerk my cock over her sex and belly. Hot ropes of my cum lash over the small patch of curls and farther up onto her exposed stomach.
Once the sparks fade away from my side vision, I let go of my cock, letting it fall heavy and limp against her. I lean down to capture her mouth in a hot, possessive kiss.
“Do you have a bathroom in this tiny place?” I ask a moment later.
“Next to the kitchen…” She points to the door on the other side of the room. How she can live in this mousetrap, I don’t understand. Even when I was small and my family had little to survive on, we had two rooms in our home.
I go to the bathroom and retrieve the hand towel hanging beside the sink. There is barely enough room in here for me to turn around in order to shut the door. After I wet the towel with warm water, I take it back to the narrow bed where she’s lying. Her legs are firmly pressed together now, but she hasn’t pulled her shirt down. It would be caught in my cum that’s cooling on her skin.
I should leave it to dry, let her feel my markings until tomorrow. But this was her first time.
“I can do that.” She tries to take the towel from me, but a sturdy glare in her direction has her rethinking her actions. I slowly drag the towel over her belly before folding it and cleaning her pubic curls and then pressing the towel between her legs to wipe her pussy.
“Thanks,” she whispers when I take the towel back to the bathroom.
When I return, she’s tugging her shorts back up over her hips. Most of her hair has fallen out of the hair tie that had been barely holding it all together, but the messiness only makes her more sexy.
“I need to get my laundry from downstairs,” she says, picking up an empty laundry basket from beside the couch. She looks at the door, a silent hint for me to leave.
“Where is the laundry room?” I ask.
“In the basement.” She pulls the hair tie free from the last locks it holds and slides it on her wrist.
I take the basket from her. “I’ll get it. You eat.” I point to the pizza box.
“I can get my own laundry.” What she really means is that all of her panties are down there, and she doesn’t want me to see them.
