I watch his every reaction, slowly moving my hand along his shaft and feeling the velvety skin I’ve grown addicted to.
Sergey’s breath catches as I brush my thumb over him, and his hips twitch, but he remains in place.
“Jesus Christ, Kat…” he whispers while the faintest color fills his cheeks. He looks down at me through heavily lidded eyes while he pants quietly. “What are you doing to me?”
I didn’t have any intention of going this far tonight after everything that happened, but seeing him like this, watching the way he melts completely under my touch, I can’t help myself.
Normally, he’s more urgent and demanding, knowing exactly what he needs and wants. But now, he’s pliant and soaking in every second of contact between us. It’s endearing, and I just want to see more of it.
“Just helping,” I murmur, leaning in to press light kisses against his thighs while I continue to stroke him slowly and teasingly.
A small, whine-like sound slips from his lips, and he tenses while trying to hold himself back. “God…you’re dangerous.”
I grin, moving closer while I pepper his skin with affection. “But you love it.”
“I do,” he says breathlessly, bringing a hand to the back of my head while his fingers slowly move through my hair. The moment my lips reach his length, Sergey grunts and drops his head back. “Fuck, I love it…”
Every strangled word and weakened breath sends shivers down my spine, along with new waves of heat through my body. His subtle squirming and bated breaths are all the encouragement I need.
Wrapping my mouth around him, I feel as Sergey shudders, and his groan fills the room without any resistance. His hips hold the tension in his body while he resists the urge to buck forward, and instead, he gently grips my hair, as if trying to soothe himself into calming down.
His next exhale is a shaky one while he waits as patiently as he can for me to continue.
I take as much of him as I can, surrounding him with my warmth while I use a hand to gently cup the rest. My opposite hand stabilizes me against his thigh, and I lightly caress his skin with my thumb.
As hard as Sergey usually tries to hold out and prolong these moments for as long as possible, I can tell he’s struggling this time. Those almost weakened sounds slip from him unbidden, and he feels wound up so tight that I don’t know how long he’ll be able to last.
Still, I keep going, building a gradual pace with my mouth on him.
All the while, he crumbles piece by piece, cursing under his breath while he carefully guides me with his hand, more as a suggestion than a demand.
“Damn it,” he rasps, tipping his head back again while his abs flex, along with the corded muscle running along his arm, while he encourages me. “You’re too good at this.”
His praises send more sparks of warmth through me, and my body reacts without needing more of his touch to accomplish it. His words alone make the want pool in my stomach, and I feel myself softening for him.
As his grip on my hair tightens fractionally, giving away how the sensations are killing him, I pick up the pace, dragging my tongue along his need.
Before long, Sergey’s breaths grow heavier, and he can’t help the way his hips rock forward. A strained sound falls from his lips.
“Shit, shit, shit…” he whispers before sliding his hand to my jaw and gently pulling me off. “Wait.”
Confused, I slide off him, looking up to find his pupils blown wide with nothing but pure lust.
Catching his breath, he visibly tries to push down his approaching release while gently stroking my cheek. Then, with a hard swallow, he guides me up from the floor.
“I didn’t want to come yet,” Sergey murmurs, guiding me closer and tugging at my clothes. His eyes rove over my features with nothing short of agonizing need while he slides my pants down. “I want to be inside you when I do.”
Shivering at that, my vision goes vaguely out of focus while the same desire claims me just as urgently as his touch becomes.
In what feels like seconds, I’m down to my bralette and panties while Sergey hooks a finger in the material and guides it down my legs before I kick it away. His hands are on me in an instant, silently insisting that I move closer.
I’m about to straddle him when I pause, and the haze in my mind parts for a moment to allow a streak of clarity in. My hands rest against his arms. “You’re still injured, Sergey.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I hesitate. “What about your wounds? I don’t want to hurt you.”
But Sergey looks up at me with pure want in his eyes, and he murmurs, “You make the pain go away…please. Don’t stop.”
