The look in his eyes, pure submission from this dangerous man, makes my pussy clench around nothing.
I tear at his clothes with desperate hands. Buttons scatter. His belt clatters to the floor. I shove everything down until he's bare, his cock thick and hard and already leaking precum.
The scars covering his torso make me pause. So many stories written in damaged flesh.
"Where?" I trace the long one across his ribs.
"Chechnya. I was nineteen."
The shoulder. "This?"
His jaw clenches. "My father. A lesson about weakness."
I kiss that scar, tasting salt and pain and survival.
"You're not weak," I whisper.
"I am with you."
I straddle him again, positioning myself so his cock slides between my folds but doesn't enter me. The contact makes us both groan. Skin against skin, his length sliding through my wetness.
"Fuck," he hisses as I rock against him, coating his cock with my arousal. "You're so fucking wet."
I reach between us and wrap my fingers around him properly. He's thick enough that my fingers barely meet, and when I stroke from base to tip, gathering the precum there, he makes a sound like I'm killing him.
"Do you remember the gala? What you said?"
"Everything." His hips thrust up into my grip. "I remember everything."
"You said I was yours." I position his tip at my entrance, letting him feel how hot and ready I am, how my pussy clenches trying to draw him in. "But tonight…" I sink down just enough to take his head, my walls stretching around his thickness. "You're mine."
"Say it."
"Ya tvoy." The Russian tears from him. "I'm yours. Fuck, I've been yours since the moment I saw you. Since before…"
I sink down another inch, cutting off his words with a groan. He's so thick it borders on pain, that delicious stretch that makes my eyes roll back.
"Stay still," I command when his hips twitch up.
"Sofia…"
"You can. You will."
I take him inch by devastating inch until he's fully seated inside me, stretching me so completely I can barely breathe. For a moment I just sit there, adjusting to his size, feeling my pussy flutter and clench around him.
Then I start to move.
Slow at first, rising up until just his tip remains before sinking back down. The drag of his cock against my walls makes me see stars. I set a punishing pace, taking my pleasure from him, using his body the way he's used mine. My clit grinds against his pelvis with each downstroke, and I can already feel my orgasm building.
He tries to thrust up and I slam my hand against his chest.
"Did I say you could move?"
"Please," he begs, his fingers digging bruises into my hips. "Let me fuck you properly. Let me…"
"No." I ride him harder, my tits bouncing with each movement. "You'll take what I give you."
The sound of my pussy taking his cock fills the room. Wet, obscene, perfect. I'm so wet that I'm dripping down his balls,making a mess of us both. His eyes are wild, watching where we're joined like he's trying to memorize it.
