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“Some place warm.” He sank his teeth into my ass cheek and my cock jerked underneath me. “Where I can see you in your tiny bathing suit again. New Zealand? South Africa?”
Places where we wouldn’t see anyone else. Or anyone we knew.
“I’ll take you anywhere you wish to go,” he continued as he spread me open.
Then the ability to speak deserted me because Nic was pressing his tongue to my hole. I gasped, tingles breaking out all over my body. He hummed and kept at it, his strong hands holding me in place. Sweat broke out on my forehead and I could feel the damp spot where my cock was leaking into the sheets.
And he showed no signs of stopping.
“Are you . . . planning to do this. . . until I agree?” I could barely speak, my chest heaving as I struggled to breathe.
“Maybe.”
Merda. Desperate for friction, my hips started rocking in time with his tongue. Why was I so eager to give this up? A holiday with him in New Zealand sounded amazing right now. “Yes, fine. This December. Holiday.”
Straightening, Nic wasted no time in getting on the condom and slicking us both up with lube. Then he was there, pushing inside me slowly and giving me time to adjust. He worked steadily, smoothing his hands over my back and hips, petting me. “That’s it. Take my dick inside you, solnyshko. Fuck, you are so hot and tight.”
I angled my hips to take more of him—and it was his turn to gasp. He held perfectly still. “Stop. I am trying not to hurt you. I was rough with you last night.”
Which I had loved. And I loved that he was taking care of me now. But I was going to cry if he didn’t start fucking me soon. “Please, mon grand. I need you. I am dying for it.”
With a growl, his hips snapped forward and suddenly he was all the way in. A Russian curse fell from his lips, while I moaned into the mattress. The pleasure was indescribable. Tiny shocks that radiated throughout my limbs, and my vision actually wavered for a brief second.
Then he began thrusting, riding me, and he hit my prostate each time. Waves of warmth rolled through me and, combined with the way my cock was rubbing into the pillow, it wasn’t going to be long before I came.
Suddenly, Nic pulled out, and I blinked in confusion as I glanced over my shoulder. He patted my hip. “Roll over.”
“Oh, missionary,” I teased as I flipped onto my back. “Someone is feeling traditional.”
“Someone is feeling like he wants to see your face when you come.”
I bit my lip, touched at this charming side of him. The man had knives and skulls tattooed on his body, but had a tender heart. I loved the dichotomy, loved that he didn’t fit into a neat box. He was savagely beautiful, like an old Alexander McQueen design. Except with less punk and more Saville Row.
Nic lifted my legs and rested them on his massive shoulders. Then he was back inside, giving me that gorgeous dick. My mouth fell open as my lids swept closed, and I resisted the urge to stroke myself.
“You won’t let anyone else have this while we’re apart,” he said, his thrusts too shallow to hit where I needed. “Do you hear me?”
Was he serious? Or was this just sexy caveman talk while we fucked? “Ma dai. You expect . . . me to remain celibate . . . until we see one another again?”
“Da.”
Oh, Russian. So hot. I moaned, the pressure in my groin nearly overwhelming. This teasing was too much. I think I shook my head, but who could tell? “I haven’t gone that long without sex . . . since I was twelve.”
“You will do this for me.”
Bossy man. He resumed long, deep strokes that brushed the right spot each time. My skin was hypersensitive, like I could feel the roots of my hair. The tips of toes and fingers. My nipples. I arched my back, delirious with need.
“We will both get tested,” he continued, like my agreement was a foregone conclusion, “and then I will fuck you raw. My Christmas present will be watching my come dribble out of your hole.”
It was too much. On his next thrust I was shooting everywhere, jets of fluid coating my stomach and chest. Some even hit my chin. It was a flood, just wave after wave of blissful pressure. Nic kept going, his rhythm never stopping, and my orgasm went on and on until I nearly passed out.
When I sagged into the bed, he let go of my legs. Bending, he ran his tongue through some of the come pooled on my neck. “You are mine, luchik.”
My heart flipped. I was falling hard, drowning in feelings for this man. It was like he saw into my brain, all the insecurities and flaws, and countered them with his tenacious confidence. He made me feel worshiped and adored, yet valued as a person. Like he wanted to hear my thoughts and learn everything about me. Like I meant more to him than only sex.
It had been ages since that happened.
“Yes,” I whispered, unable to stop myself.
