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“Yes, baby. Always you.”
She starts to cum again, her teeth chattering with every exhale, her breath coming out low and throaty.
I make her cum again and again, for over an hour. All the while she’s complimenting me, adoring me, stroking her fingers through my hair …
We’ve never had sex this gentle, this tender. It’s not a sex drug, it’s a love drug.
At last I climb on top of Sabrina and slide my cock inside her, looking down into her beautiful face, those luminous gray eyes looking up at me, thick black lashes all around, the only eyes like them in all the world …
I slide in and out of her, slow and sensual, experiencing every inch of her, the scent of her hair, her soft breath on my face …
When I start to cum, it draws out forever, easy, warm, and blissful. I don’t have to try for it at all.
It’s an orgasm like none I’ve ever known.
Because I’ve never cum from how goddamn much I love someone.
* * *
25
SABRINA
I’ve been shopping at GUM, which is the main department store in Moscow. It’s really more like a mall, with a lovely glass dome roof, high-end boutiques, and fancy eateries. It faces Red Square, which is currently not red but white, blanketed with the first snow of the year.
That’s why I had to shop—to get warmer clothes.
I model my new outfit for Adrik—bright orange fleece joggers, a white hoodie, and a pair of Stan Smiths that are probably counterfeit, but an excellent fake. They even have the little green tabs on the tongue with Stan’s portrait.
“Orange looks amazing with your skin.” Adrik gives me an appreciative up and down. “You have good style—it’s fuckin’ sexy.”
“Thank you, thank you,” I say, posing for him.
“What’s this for?” he says, tugging at a little stretchy string on the butt.
The joggers have several pockets and zips with no apparent purpose.
“I dunno,” I say. “Don’t pull on it.”
“I think your pants are on backwards.”
“No, they’re not! Knock it off!”
Ignoring me, Adrik pulls the strings out about a foot. “That’s the drawstring! They’re definitely on backwards.”
I twist around, trying to look at my own ass.
“Goddammit.”
His shoulders shake with laughter. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you did that.”
“I won’t tell anyone you thought I looked stylish as fuck!”
“Watch it,” he growls, seizing me and pulling me close.
He’s trying to put his hands down my pants and up my shirt simultaneously. I smack him away.
“I don’t have time for that—I have to meet Zigor.”
