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“Fuck, that feels good,” I gasped, clutching the sheets with one hand and pinching the head of my dick with the other. As amazing as it felt, I didn’t want to come from rimming alone. I wanted the whole Misha package.
Kissing my asscheek lightly, he rubbed his fingertips over my hole. “Are you ready, detka?”
I could have wept from joy. “Yes. God yes.”
Rolling me onto my back, he slid between my legs, positioning himself so his cock was resting against my hole. He made a point of warming up the lube in his hand before applying it to my skin and slicking another pump along his length. Instead of going for it, though, he leaned down and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and traced my tongue along his lips, slipping it inside as soon as he parted them.
I was so distracted kissing him that I almost didn’t pay attention to the fact he started pushing his cock inside. Breaking away from his mouth with a gasp, I closed my eyes and reminded myself to breathe. He caressed my face and kissed me all over between soft words of encouragement, all the while sinking in deeper and deeper.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Let me in. Breathe. Relax, detka. Almost there. You feel so good. It’s just a little more.”
I reclaimed his mouth with mine, kissing him harder. Raking my fingers down his back, I grabbed his ass and pulled him in the rest of the way. He grunted and I moaned, resuming our kiss as soon as I was over the initial shock. I was so full, stretched to the max, but it felt so good. Everything with him felt good.
He pulled back a bit, looking down at where we were joined as he ran his hand up and down my body, from my stomach up to my chest. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking but at least he didn’t look borderline distraught, like he had at the zoo when he saw the bite mark on my neck.
After that little conversation, I could see why he’d been so hesitant to top before. However, I’d argue his never-ending concern about possibly hurting me had as much to do with his own past experiences as it did with any of my former clients. Everyone always acts like they want a monster dick until they have to actually have to accommodate it. Personally, I didn’t care about size as long as the guy knew how to use it, and there was no doubt that Misha knew how to use his. Misha knew how to use every part of himself. I wasn’t kidding when I said he could probably get me to come from his breath alone.
Moving his hips slowly, Misha rocked in and out, letting his gaze drift from my ass to my eyes every couple of seconds in a circuitous path.
“I’m ok,” I said, reaching for his face. “I promise.”
He leaned down, kissing my palm before letting me cup his cheek. “I’m just enjoying this moment with you.”
I threaded my fingers in his hair and pulled him down the rest of the way, pressing my lips to his softly. His cock slid in all the way again and I couldn’t contain the whimper. Wrapping my other arm around his waist quickly, I held him close. “You feel amazing, Mishka. I want it just like this.”
He sank down onto his elbows and kissed me hard, even though he kept the rest of his movements gentle, more like slow hip swivels than actual thrusting. Each time his cock retreated and advanced again, it lit every nerve ending on fire, so I didn’t care what his speed was as long as he keptthatup.
The city lights slanted across the bed, giving me a clear view of his face. It was his eyes that I was most interested in, watching me with an expression I’d never seen before. He studied my face as he fucked me slowly, interrupted only when we kissed. Every time his gaze caught mine, my lungs squeezed a little tighter, pushed out of the way by some unknown sensation that seemed hell-bent on being front and center, even as my climax steadily approached.
Misha must have felt it too because he slid one hand along the curve of my hip and down my thigh, gripping it as he moved a little quicker. I rocked my hips against him, trying to fuck him as much as he was fucking me while my fist glided up and down my dick.
Licking my lips before biting down on them, I pumped my shaft, riding each blissful wave as they rolled through me, pooling in my core. “I’m so close.”
Misha’s mouth dropped to my neck, kissing me before his teeth caught my skin. He shifted his hand from my thigh to the other side of my neck, holding me in place while he sucked at it gently in a place that apparently had a giant ‘X marks the spot’ sign.
Pleasure coursed through my body from every direction, unsure which way it wanted to go until it detonated like an atom bomb. I cried out and squeezed my eyes shut, jerking myself one last time as cum poured down my hand.
Thank God, Misha didn’t stop. Panting, muscles tensing, he kept fucking me until he thrust in hard, burying himself as deep as he could. I kissed him hotly as his cock pulsed inside of me, emptying everything he had until it gave a final twitch and stilled.
Sinking down on top of me, he buried his face in my neck, each rapid exhalation hot against my skin. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, never wanting this moment to end. This closeness. It was unlike any of our other times together—unlikeanythingI’d experienced before.
Out of nowhere, my vision blurred. A wave of tears rushed out, spilling from the corners of my eyes. I squeezed them shut again and wiped my eyes quickly, silently screaming at myself to get it together. What the fuck was wrong with me?! Biology didn’t mean shit at that moment because anxiety had taken over completely. If Misha realized I was fucking crying, he’d never have sex with me again and then I would have adamngood reason to cry.
Swiping under my eyes one more time, I exhaled a steadying breath and swallowed hard, hoping I sounded normal. “Are you still set on that whole fourteen-hour thing or should we shower now?”
“Whatever you want.” He picked his head up and brushed his lips over mine. There must not have been any lingering dampness anywhere, because I’m sure he would have said something if not been outright horrified the second he saw it.
“A shower’s good.” My voice betrayed me, sounding way too froggy, so I cleared my throat. “We can always shower again.”
“I’ll get it ready.” He threaded his fingers through my hair and gave me a languid kiss, the kind of kiss that made me dizzy even though I was already laying down. If I hadn’t just shot my load, I would have been hard again in two seconds.
He eased away from me carefully and slipped off the bed, heading to the shower.
As soon as I was alone, another round of tears leaked out of my traitorous eyes. I scrubbed both hands over my face and gritted my teeth. As if I needed any more reasons to hate myself, let’s add embarrassment to the list. At least a shower would disguise whatever the fuck was going on while my tear ducts sorted their shit out.
While I laid there, vivisecting myself and trying to figure out where the malfunction was, that weird feeling in my chest came back. The moment I paid attention to it, the waterworks resumed and I knew right then what the problem was.
A four-letter word I refused to name sat there, waiting. I didn’t know when it had burrowed inside of me and I didn’t know how I was going to root it out, but I knew I had to. That word was a fantasy. It had never done anything good for anyone, let alone someone like me.
