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In an instant, I’m on her. Dropping down, my lips replace her fingers, tasting her, savoring the sweet honey that is uniquely Sophia. The flavor sends a low, guttural groan through me, my tongue diving deeper, seeking more.
“Yes! Yes, Luka,” she cries out, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I oblige, my tongue flicking over her clit in a rhythm that has her moaning my name.
“God, Luka…yes,” she gasps, grinding her hips against my mouth. Her taste, her scent, the sweet sounds she makes. Everything about this moment is overwhelming, a sensory overload that I can’t get enough of.
I reach up, my fingers joining my mouth, two fingers sliding inside her, meeting little resistance. She’s so wet, so ready for me. I groan against her, the sound vibrating against her sensitive flesh, drawing another moan from her.
I continue my assault, fingers and tongue working together to bring her closer to the edge.
Her pussy walls tighten like a vise as I keep thrusting, ripping a loud, desperate cry from her lips. “Oh fuck! Oh…oh…!” Her wetness slathers my skin as she bucks harder. Yet I don’t pause. I press on, seeking out that sweetspot hidden in her slick core.
“Oh, Luka…! Yes, yes, yes, I’m…I’m…” she stammers, the tremor in her voice matching the rhythm of her body. She writhes under my touch, hands exploring herself, moving to her breast, pinching her own nipple.
“Fuck, I am coming!” She gives a harsh cry as she climaxes, her pussy tightening around my fingers as waves of pleasure crash over her. More of her sweet honey spills out, coating my fingers, a sweet reward for my efforts.
“Krasotka,” I grunt, withdrawing my fingers only to bring them to my lips, tasting her. “You’re fucking delicious.”
I gently squeeze her breast as I rise and capture her lips. She moans into my mouth, the sound driving me wild. The sight of her, so vulnerable, so wanting, is more than I can bear.
Pulling away, I stand upright, my gaze locked on hers. My hands move down her thighs, parting her legs further, making room for myself. Her breath hitches as I position myself between her inviting legs, the steamy air heavy with anticipation.
With deliberate slowness, I line myself up with her, her wetness bathing me. As I push inside her, the sensation is overwhelming. She’s so tight, so wet, I can feel her clasping walls tightening around me.
“Yes! Oh God, it feels so good!” she blurts.
“Fuck, Sophia,” I grit out, feeling her tightness enveloping me. “You feel so fucking…”
She digs her nails into my shoulders, her head tilting back as she adjusts to my girth. She moans low in her throat, and an intense shot of desire surges within me.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she whimpers, and I’m lost to her, lost in her.
Slowly, I begin to move, every thrust leaving her gasping. “You’re so fucking tight, Sophia,” I growl, my fingers finding her nipple, hard and aching for my touch. I roll it between my fingers, earning a sharp intake of breath from her.
“I… Oh, Luka!” she chokes out, arching toward me, inviting me deeper. I lower my head, my lips latching onto her other nipple. The sounds she makes are driving me mad with desire.
I pick up my pace, my hips slapping against her thighs, my thrusts ringing wetly; the sensation makes my cock throb with pleasure. Her legs wrap tighter around my waist, urging me deeper.
“You’re filling me up,” she moans, clutching at my shoulders for support. With each thrust, her breasts bounce beautifully, a sight that stokes the already roaring fire within me. “Don’t stop, Luka.” She bites her lower lip. “I am coming! Oh, fuck yes, Luka, yes.”
The raw desire in her voice pushes me to the brink. My thrusts become erratic, hard, desperate. My fingers slip down to her clit, rubbing it in sync with my frantic movements.
“Yes…yes… Yes!” she cries out, her inner walls clenching around me. The sound of her climax sends me over the edge, a wave of pleasure crashing over me.
“Sophia,” I gasp, my body trembling as I spill inside her.
Inside her…what the hell am I doing?
Fuck!
Chapter 33
Sophia
“ALRIGHT YULIA, if you have ten apples and I give you three more, how many do you have?” Miss Katya asks as she displays the red apple-shaped blocks for Yulia.
I stifle a yawn, catching Yulia’s sparkling blue eyes as they intently focus on Miss Katya. Miss Katya is a vibrant young woman, her Russian accent lacing her words with a foreign charm as she animatedly explains simple addition and subtraction to Yulia. Brightly colored blocks and plush toys serve as teaching aids, making the concepts visually engaging for Yulia.
“A lot of apples!” Yulia giggles.
