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“Good. Because I like the way you taste.”
Heat radiates from my core at his daring words. The throbbing in my clit intensifies as I climb closer to a second orgasm in a matter of minutes. The only thing slowing me down is the impeccable decor of his bedroom.
It’s to die for, the gray-wood furnishings stylish and expensive, the light fixtures chic and understated. Even the art is a classy collection of abstract paintings that speak of vibrant life and energy. I wonder who decorated his house, but that’s a question for another time.
As Maks’s fingers ease inside my entrance once more, I’m consumed by his masterful touch. He strokes my core, his fingers curling slightly to find that hidden spot that makes my mind go blank.
As his tongue circles my clit relentlessly, I cry his name before falling apart around him. He keeps playing with me, milking every last drop of pleasure from my body, until I collapse onto the bed with a shuddering sigh.
As he raises his head to meet my eyes, a slow, satisfied grin stretches his lips.
“What?” I ask, my mouth curving to match his smile.
“I’ve dreamed about getting the chance to do that again but never thought I would,” he admits as he climbs slowly back up my body.
He kisses me deeply, the tang of my juices still lingering on his lips, and the taste of it excites me.
“Funny,” I breathe between kisses, and Maks pulls back to meet my eyes. “I’ve had the exact same dream.”
With a feral snarl, Maks claims my lips in a scintillating kiss. His hips rock forward, the cold metal of his belt pressing against my abdomen as I feel the iron rod of his arousal between the open zipper of his pants.
Reaching down, I return to my task of stripping him, shoving his pants and underwear down over his hips in one go. His cock springs free, the swollen head glimmering with a drop of precum that reminds me of the potential consequences of our actions tonight.
But right now, I’m so sex crazed, I can’t bring myself to care.
He helps me, leaning forward on his muscular arms so I can push his pants lower, and when my arms won’t reach, I catch the fabric with my toes, shoving them down the rest of the way.
“That’s a good trick,” he rumbles, his lips leaving my mouth to gently nip the lobe of my ear.
“Stick with me, kid...” I tease, and I can’t help but giggle at my own joke. There’s not a shadow of doubt in my mind that Maks has far more experience with sex than I do. All I know is that I need to feel his body against mine.
The silken skin of his erection trapped against my hips has my stomach in knots of anticipation.
“Are you going to show me a thing or two, then?” he teases, his tone daring me to back down now.
Then he grasps my hips and rolls me until I’m sitting on top of him.
Lap dances I know how to do. But this is the first time I’ll be mixing one with actual sex, and it makes my heart skip a beat. His eyes heat as he watches me with anticipation, and I let the novelty of the moment fall away from me so I won’t disappoint.
Closing my eyes, I sit up tall, elongating my torso as I reach up to comb my fingers into my hair. I roll my hips, relishing the way his thick erection slides between my pussy lips as I start to grind on him.
Strong fingers press into my thighs, a silent signal that Maks enjoys the sensation as much as I do. Combing my hair to one side, I peer down at him, promising him with my eyes that we’re only getting started.
Then I reach behind me to unclasp my bra.
Air hisses between his teeth as I toss the last scrap of fabric aside with a flourish. His hands knead my flesh, slowly working their way up my thighs until he’s following the curve of my hips, my waist, then cradling my breasts with his palms.
Placing my hands over his, I intensify his grasp until the supple flesh—softer after having breastfed my daughter for the first year of her life—oozes between his strong fingers. Again, I rock my hips, demonstrating how I would fuck him.
But not yet.
Not without protection.
As if reading my mind, Maks releases me to reach toward the nightstand beside his bed. Pulling open the drawer, he rummages blindly for a moment. Though I know from the sound of his groan that he’s still fully aware of me riding him.
Retrieving a condom, he tears into it, and I snatch the quarter-sized rubber before he can object. Then, with a lascivious smile, I reach between us to slowly roll the lubricated latex onto his impressive cock.
“Watching you put a condom on me might be the single sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasps. “Though I’m not sure if it can pass up your expression when you orgasm.”
