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Natalia
When he grips my hair, when his hand squeezes my thigh, it makes me feel things I wish I could escape, more than I even wish I could escape this house.
His hands on me turn me on more than anything else in my life ever has. His tongue on my mouth, his teeth nipping at my lip, makes my heart race, my blood heats as I fight not to give in, not to arch into his touch, not to kiss him back.
I know it’s a losing battle.
If I please him, he’ll give me more of what I want.
I know I’m making excuses. I know that I’m telling myself I have a reason for the way my hands press against his chest, fingers knotting in his shirt to pull him closer, tugging at it. The way my mouth opens under his, breathless, panting, my nerves alight with need as he tumbles me back onto the bed, my legs going around his hips.
He’s as breathless as I am, hard against my thigh, grinding against me as my thin cotton dress rucks up around my hips, the denim of his jeans rough against my fragile skin, protected only by the silky material of my panties.
“Fuck,” he groans against my mouth, one hand hard on my hip, his body shuddering with a spasm of need. “I–fuck–”
His mouth drags to my throat, his tongue tracing the marks left from his fingers before, soothing the bruised flesh. It sends sparks over my skin, hot and electric, and I feel my thighs opening for him, my hips arching up against the bruising pressure of him rubbing against me. I want more–more pain, more pleasure, more of the violence that makes me hate him and myself and drives me wild with need all at once.
I feel torn in two, between hate and desire, and he only inflames it more as he drags his mouth down my throat, sweeping his tongue over every place where he crushed it with his hand, until he moves lower still, his tongue in the valley between my breasts.
“You should never wear clothes,” he growls, his hands fisting in the open neckline of the thin cotton dress. “You’re too fucking beautiful to ever be anything other than naked for me.”
“I thought you didn’t want anyone else looking at me,” I taunt, and he looks up at me, ice blue eyes glowing with possessive need.
“No one ever fucking will, if I have my way,” he grinds out, his hands tugging at the fabric. “I’ll keep you chained to the fucking bed if I have to, so no other man sees you. So all of this is fuckingmine.”
I cry out in shocked surprise as he jerks his hands apart suddenly, ripping the dress down the middle as hetearsit off of me, shredding the thin fabric until I’m bare beneath him, except for my panties.
He yanks the straps of the dress down my shoulders with sharp, frantic movements, tossing the ruined garment aside as his mouth drags down between my breasts, over my belly, his breath coming in sharp, hot pants against my skin. “I need to taste you,” he groans, his hands smoothing up my inner thighs, spreading them wide as he pins me to the bed, his tongue already tracing a burning trail downwards.
I hate how much I want it, how my hips are already arching up for his mouth, my clit throbbing at the thought of the hot, wet pressure of his tongue on me. I cry out again as he pushes two fingers roughly inside of me, curling them as he thrusts them deep, his tongue lashing over my clit. The pleasure bursts over me, making me throw my head back and moan as he sucks my sensitive flesh into his mouth, tongue fluttering, swirling as I reach down, my hand tangling in his hair as I grind against his face.
He’d asked me to show him how much I wanted him, and I’d meant to do it as a means of continuing to play the game, to draw him closer so I can have a chance to keep my friend alive, even to escape if I can get enough freedom to find where he’s keeping my money. But I’ve forgotten I’m playing a game, the pleasure washing over me until I can’t think about anything other than how good his mouth feels, how close I am to coming, how badly I want to come on his face.
His fingers thrust inside of me, hard and fast, matching the rhythm of his lashing tongue, and I know I’m on the edge. I don’t try to hold it back, don’t try to fight as I go hurtling over the cliff into a climax that makes my thighs clench around his head as he squeezes my hips, his mouth relentless as I come hard on his tongue, screaming my pleasure loud enough that it fills the room.
“God, you sound so fucking good when you come,” Mikhail groans as he slides up from between my legs, his mouth glistening from my release. He yanks at the zipper of his jeans, freeing his cock with one quick, frantic motion, and I catch a glimpse of the long, throbbing shaft for one brief second before he jerks my panties to one side again, the swollen head pressed against my soaked entrance.
He thrusts into me in one hard stroke that fills me completely, tearing a startled yelp of pleasure and pain from my lips as he drives himself into me violently, his hands grabbing for my wrists as his hips jerk and shudder against mine.
“Ohfuck,” he groans, pinning my wrists to the bed as he grinds into me. “That fucking tight pussy–fuck, you feel so fucking good–”
I clench around him, the words sending sparks of pleasure over my skin, my sensitive flesh spasming around him at the sudden intrusion so soon after I came. It feels better than it should, better than I want it to, and I feel myself bending upwards, my chin tilting as if to ask him to kiss me.
There’s a wicked glint in Mikhail’s eyes as he thrusts into me again, deep and hard, groaning with pleasure as I flutter around him again. He lets go of my wrists, grabbing my waist instead, and before I can catch my breath he rolls us over suddenly, so that I’m the one on top of him.
He grins up at me, his hands sliding down to my hips as I feel him throb inside of me. “Now you’re the one in control,” he murmurs. “Show me exactly how much you want it,kotenok. Show me how much you crave my cock.”
I know what I should do. I should refuse, scramble off of him, tell him that I don’t want it, refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me take my pleasure atop him. But I can’t stop. I can feel myself fluttering around him, clenching around that delicious, thick throbbing, and I want more.
I want to ride his cock until I come, and I want to hurt him while I do it.
I squeeze my thighs around his hips, grinding down onto him as I reach for his shirt, fingers curling in the material as I tear it open, the buttons flying as I rip it with the same violence he gave my dress. I start to move atop him as I do, rising up just a little and sliding back down in short, shallow, rocking movements that make him groan, his gaze darkening.
My fingers press against his chest, nails digging in as I start to ride him faster, bending over him to kiss him as I do. I push my tongue into his mouth, feeling him shudder, my teeth grazing against his lower lip. I give him a moment of kissing me, my mouth slanting over his as I roll my hips down atop him, and then I sink my teeth into his lower lip.
He cries out, hips jerking upwards, his cock slamming into me as he grabs my hips in a rough, punishing grip. I bite him long enough to draw blood, metallic on my tongue, and then I release him, waiting for the furious reaction.
His eyes are gleaming with lust, and I feel his cock throb inside of me as he slams me down onto it again, a low growl escaping his lips. “Fucking do it again,” he murmurs, his voice rough and dangerous. “I fucking dare you,suka.”
