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I was humiliated. I was turned on. But I stayed still with my legs spread,feelinghis gaze on me.
“Look at how you’re such a good girl.” He still didn’t move but trailed his focus up my body to look in my eyes again. “You’re doing so well. There isn’t anyone who pleases me like you do.”
That praise shouldn’t have hit me right between the legs, shouldn’t have made me feel drunk, but here I was, swaying with the force of it.
I allowed myself to look my fill of my big Russian husband, at how broad his shoulders were underneath the button-down shirt that encased all that masculinity. I could see the subtle definition of his muscles under the expensive fabric, and felt my breathing increase. And then I was staring at the massive erection digging against his pant leg.
“You want to see it?” He taunted, erotically teased. He didn’t give me a chance to respond, not that I could have found the words anyway. “Of course you want to see it,” he crooned, his accent much thicker. “The fact you’ve never seen a cock before makes me so hard, sweetheart, harder than I’ve ever been.”
My heart was pounding so hard and fast behind my ribs, and when I licked my lips his chuckle was instant, his focus never leaving my face. He lowered his hands to his pants, undid thebutton, and pulled down the zipper so it sounded obscene in the living room.
I didn’t take my focus off of his face, too shy, too nervous even though I could see the movement of what he was doing, of how he pulled his dick out and started stroking himself.
His eyes became even more hooded, his mouth parting.Oh God.I wanted to clench my thighs harder, feeling more wetness spill from me. But I didn’t want to disobey him.
“Go on. Look at it.” The corner of his mouth kicked up in a semblance of a smile.
I found my hands curling into tight fists on their own accord as I lowered my gaze down to stare at what he did. I took in a sharp intake of breath as, the first time in my life, I watched a vulgar, sexual act. Calling it vulgar sounded almost wrong, as if what he was doing was immoral or wrong.
He was my husband. I was his wife. This was what married couples did.
And God he was big, long and thick. Too big. Too thick to fit inside of me.
I was transfixed as I watched his tattooed hand stroke up and down his cock. Root to tip. Root to tip. And on every upstroke he squeezed and pushed a bead of clear fluid out the slit at the crown.
He did this over and over again until that pre-cum slid down his dick, following the line of that thick, pulsing vein that ran on the underside of his cock.
“Get on your knees.”
I snapped my gaze back to his face, feeling my eyes widen in shock. “W-what?”
He made a disapproving sound. “Be a good girl and don’t make me tell you again.” He kept stroking himself in unhurried motions. “You know you want to, so sink down on those knees and come closer, sweetheart.”
It only took me a second before I found myself doing just that, like he had a chain around my body and one firm yank and I was obeying him. But this wasn’t about compliance or force.
This was about the pleasure I got acting on his commands.
“Closer, baby girl.”
I crawled on my knees until I was between his spread thighs, the scent of him invading my senses and nearly having a moan spill from my lips. Nikolai smelled like clean sweat, dark spices, and unrestrained power.
“I know you’ve never sucked a cock before. But I want to hear you say it.” I was transfixed at the sight of another bead of pre-cum forming on the tip before following suit down the underside of his shaft.
My mouth watered shamelessly, and I knew he’d asked me a question but I was so hazy with this reality that I couldn’t comprehend anything but counting my heartbeats.
It seemed to be the only thing that kept me firmly rooted to this moment.
“Go on,printsessa. You know you want to please me.”
What’s wrong with me that I crave to do as he says?
I forced myself to look away from him jerking off, but the sight of his pleasure written across his face could’ve had me orgasm right then.
My inner muscles clenched, my clit throbbed, and I was so wet I was a mess between my legs.
I didn’t know why I was so shy saying the words he wanted. I thought them loud and clear. We’d done far more explicit things, too. “I’ve never… I’ve never done that.” My voice was breathless.
He made a deep sound from deep within his chest. “No, baby girl. I want you to use your words.” A moment of silence passed before he continued. “Because we both know how wet that cunt gets when you’re embarrassed.”
