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Predatory excitement spreads across his strong face, and he leans in to capture my lips in a passionate kiss. I let him, allowing his sinfully delicious lips to distract me from my lingering anxiety.
He slowly undresses himself, his mouth never leaving mine.
I’m not bold or confident enough to help him out just yet, so instead, I reach between us to feel his hard length and stroke it over his slacks. Preparing myself mentally.
Pyotr moans, his kisses growing more fierce as his hips rock forward into my palm. Shedding his clothing one article at a time, he strips down for me. And for the first time, I get the privilege of seeing his chiseled chest.
It’s covered in several different tattoos–a demonic, fanged mask snarling from one pec, a serpent weaving its way in and out of a skull fills the opposite shoulder. Over his heart lies what must be a Bible verse or some passage from a book written in Cyrillic, and below it are the initials APV followed by a range of dates. A tribute to his father, I’m sure.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmur, tracing the text over his heart.
“You’re beautiful,” he insists, pausing his undressing to stroke his knuckles along my cheek.
Nerves coil in my stomach as Pyotr rolls onto his back to unbuckle his pants and quickly strip them. In the dim lighting cast from my one bedside lamp, I take in the full glory of his strong, fit body.
He looks like a fighter, with toned lines and plenty of muscle, though it doesn’t overwhelm his physique. I wouldn’t call him burly, but he’s certainly not lean, despite the fact that he doesn’t seem to have an ounce of unnecessary body fat.
“I don’t know what to do,” I confess, starting to tremble as I realize we’re really doing this. Whether I’m shaking from fear or anticipation, I can’t be sure. They war equally to take control of me.
Pyotr brushes a strand of hair back from my face, his expression gentle. “I know,” he murmurs.
I’m not sure whether he means that he knows I’m new at this or thatheknows what to do, so I don’t have to. But I don’t have time to linger on the thought. Pyotr wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to his warm body as he kisses me tenderly.
I encircle my arms around his neck, kissing him back as my anticipation starts to win out. My arousal flickers back to life as his hands explore me softly, stroking every inch of my body. He kneads my tight muscles, taking his time as he showers me with attention.
His lips leave mine to trail kisses from the tender spot behind my ear, down my neck, and along my collarbone. When he reaches my shoulder, he moves back toward my chest. Kissing and licking and sucking my skin lightly, he works his way to my breasts.
I arch up into his lips as they close around my taut nipple. The warmth of his mouth enveloping the sensitive nub is heavenly. Using his hand, he mimics the gesture with my other breast, and my legs quiver as he turns me on with impressive skill.
The hand massaging my breast releases it to slowly work its way down my body. Then his fingers stroke through my wet slit.
“My sexysokrovishche,” he praises. “You’re so wet and ready for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes!” I gasp as his fingers collect my arousal and circle my clit.
After two orgasms, the sensitive bundle of nerves is like a live wire. Even the slightest touch sends a zap of electric pleasure deep into my core. My pussy clenches, hungry for something more.
Slowly, Pyotr eases on top of me, his hips spreading my thighs as he settles between them. He rests on his forearms, one on either side of my head, hovering over me so our skin touches. But he doesn’t lean his full weight on me.
His warmth sends tingles across my skin wherever he brushes against me. And Pyotr leans in to claim my lips. My hands find his back, and as I run my fingers up his rippling form, his shoulder muscles bunch beneath my touch.
I don’t think I’ve ever met a sexier man. Every inch of him is strong, powerful, and masculine. And he’s all mine.
As our tongues dance together, Pyotr’s cock twitches, his silken head finding my wet entrance. I tremble with desire, my stomach tightening. Leaning onto one arm, he reaches between us to hold the base of his cock.
He teases me, gliding the soft tip between my folds and spreading my arousal over it.
“Ffffuck,” he hisses against my lips. “I want to be inside you so bad. Are you ready for me, Princess?”
I think I might die if he draws it out any longer. My clit throbs painfully with the anticipation of having him inside me. While my stomach tightens with nerves, I’m so turned on, I don’t think anything could stop me now.
“Yes,” I whimper. “I need you.”
Pyotr releases an appreciative growl and slowly presses forward.
He’s large–considerably larger than two fingers–and at first, it doesn’t feel like he’ll fit. My body resists him, and I bury my face in his neck as the pressure grows uncomfortable. Then, a sharp pain lances through me as he presses inside my entrance.
I cry out, tears trickling from the corners of my eyes at the unexpected pain, and Pyotr stills inside me.
