“You know what.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“I want your mouth on me.” Her voice is strained, desperate. “I want you to make me come.”
“Where do you want my mouth, Anya?” I blow cool air across her clit and watch her whole body jerk. “Be specific.”
“On my—” She breaks off, face flushing.
“Say it.”
“On my pussy. I want your mouth on my pussy. Please.”
“Good girl.”
I spread her open with my thumbs and look at what belongs to me. Pink. Swollen. Fucking soaked. The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve looked at a lot of beautiful things in my life—art, architecture, the Moscow skyline at night—but nothing compares to this.
I lick a stripe up her center, and she shivers so hard I have to hold her hips down.
“Blyad’—” she gasps.
The taste of her explodes across my tongue, and I groan against her flesh like a man dying of thirst who’s finally found water.
“You taste so fucking good,” I tell her between strokes of my tongue. “I could eat this pussy for hours.”
“Please—” Her hips buck against my mouth. “I need—”
“What do you need?”
“More. I need more.”
I slide two fingers inside her and curl them, finding the spot that makes her keen, and her thighs shake around my head as I work her higher. She’s making sounds I want to record and play back later—desperate, broken, animal sounds that go straight to my cock.
“You’re going to come,” I tell her, my voice rough against her clit. “Then I’m going to open you up and fill you completely.”
“I can’t—it’s too much—”
I add a third finger and press harder on that spot inside her while my tongue circles her clit. “You will. Because I’m telling you to.”
She shatters, screaming my name—walls clenching around my fingers, thighs clamping around my head, the sound torn out of her like I’ve ripped something loose. I work her through it, gentler, slower, until she’s boneless and gasping.
Then I pull back and reach for the lubricant.
“Color?”
“Green. Very, very green.”
“This is going to feel strange at first.” I warm the lubricant between my fingers, then circle her other entrance. “Breathe through it. Let me in.”
Her whole body tenses when I press the first finger against her ass, instinct fighting surrender.
“Dyshi, kroshka.” Breathe, little one. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with a finger in your—oh.”
The first finger slides inside her slowly, carefully, and I watch the flutter of her lashes, the bitten lip, the flush spreading down her chest. She’s so fucking tight around my finger, so hot, and my cock is leaking in my pants just thinking about what comes next.
“How does that feel?”
