I throw my head back, hissing at the pain. But pleasure shortly follows when he sucks and licks at the spot.
My dick is straining against my jeans and aching. So, when our dicks finally touch and he starts grinding himself against me, I purr.
Like actually purr.
Alexei’s grunting like a man possessed, driving his hips into mine, lifting me up onto my tiptoes.
We both move faster, harder.
Out of control.
“Alexei . . . more. . .” I push my whole body into his, my voice practically a sob, every part of me on fire. “More.”
His teeth sink into my earlobe and he lets out a low growl, thrusting into me like a feral beast.
My hands try to yank free as I writhe against him, my moans loud and filling the room. “Alexei . . . I’m . . . Fuck, I’m coming . . . I’m coming in my pants.”
What the holy hell?
Whatever self-degradation about filling my pants just passed through my lips only makes the pulses of cum shooting all over the inside of my boxers that much stronger.
Alexei grips my hip so hard with his other hand, his fingers practically impale my skin while he continues humping against me until his eyes squeeze shut and a loud groan rips from his throat as his body shudders.
When he stills, I rest my head back against the wall, both of us panting as we try to catch our breaths.
Alexei releases his hand from my hip and for sure he’s left bruises. He takes a small step back, his eyes finally opening. But instead of looking at me, he stares at the floor as if in a daze.
“Hey, you okay?” I keep my voice soft.
But he stays silent.
I pull my hands free from his grasp and they shake slightly as I reach up to brush some loose curls of sweaty dark brown hair away from his face. “Alexei?”
“Leave.”
But when he continues to avoid looking at me, I run my fingers through his hair in an attempt to comfort him.
Is he a bully?
Yes.
But I basically had sort-of-sex with the guy and based on what he said before, how he only likes girls, this is all new for him, which also explains why he took off the night of the party.
“If you want to talk about it—”
“Leave now.” When he does look at me, it’s through narrowed slits filled with a dangerous glint.
“Okay.” I slide sideways against the wall, making my presence as small as possible. Respecting his wishes for privacy, I walk out the door.
Putting aside all the shit he pulled to humiliate me, I’d say it was the best sex of my life.
Well, sort of sex.
What is dry humping even considered?
And being restrained . . . it was mind blowing, every last second of it.
If only it wasn’t with the savage Russian hockey player who most of the time seems to want to punch my face in for just existing, I’d explore it more.
