Alexei, who is thrusting into me steadily, pauses. “Are you kidding me?”
I squirm, pushing back against him so the lace scrapes against the fabric of his trousers.
He resumes, stroking in and out of my pussy until I’m done coming, then he pulls out and lifts me off the couch and puts me on my knees. The throbbing between my legs is still there, and I’m sorry to be empty, but I don’t have time to think before he tugs my head back by the hair.
“Open your mouth.”
I obey instantly, licking and sucking his cock. Soon he’s groaning so loudly I’m afraid I won’t be able to hear when someone knocks.
When Alexei comes, he milks his seed into my open mouth and watches me swallow. I know this is something he especially loves because his face is so intent. I lick my lips and then give the head of his cock a little kiss.
“Fuck,” Alexei says, exhaling heavily. His hand strokes my cheek. “You may have to wear this outfit for me every night for a while. Did you—?”
A knock on the door and an announcement of room service sends me scrambling to my feet. I rush into the bathroom and slam the door, with my heart pounding.
I don’t know whether Alexei manages to get his trousers zipped before the man with the trolley comes in, and I do not care. If my husband’s private parts are seen by a stranger, this is his own fault.
I wait for several moments before opening the door a crack to peek out. Alexei sits in a chair at the round dining table with his trousers fastened. He doesn’t look embarrassed or troubled in the least.
When he sees me, he smirks and waves for me to come out. “It’s safe,kiska. Come here.”
I start to walk out, but he holds up a hand.
“No, kitten.”
“No?”
“Get down. Cats don’t walk on two legs.”
My small gasp causes his wicked smile to widen.
I take another step.
“Of course, if you want to disobey me, go ahead. But then I will use my belt to punish you, and you’ll get to feel something bigger than a plug in your ass.” He leans back in the chair and adjusts his cock meaningfully.
My face flames, and I glare at him, but I stop resisting and instead drop gingerly to my hands and knees. He watches me crawl to the table, and I swear I feel close to coming again by the way he stares at me.
I start to rise, but he shakes his head. “Put your chin here,” he says, tapping his knee.
“Why?”
“No talking.” He snaps his fingers, and I move into position so I’m kneeling next to his leg.
He leans down and kisses me. “You’re very beautiful.” He strokes my hair and then my tail. Then he takes a sushi roll in his fingers and holds it out.
I almost giggle when I realize he wants to feed me by hand, but something keeps me from doing so. Probably the stern and serious way he looks at me.
Instead, I open my mouth and let him set the food on my tongue. I nip his fingers for good measure.
Apparently he enjoys feeding me this way, because he turns his chair toward me and doesn’t stop giving me delicious bits of food until I pull away because I can’t eat another bite.
“Full?”
I nod.
“All right. Come up here,” he says, putting his arms out. “Sit on my lap while I eat.”
For a reason I can’t name, this appeals to me immensely. And when I’m on his lap, it feels lovely to have him cuddle me against his chest and stroke my skin while he talks between his own bites.
