The door to Yakov's penthouse barely clicks shut behind us before his hands are on me, rough and possessive, yanking my shirt over my head and tossing it aside like it offends him. His mouth crashes down on mine, the kiss all teeth and tongue, devouring me as if he's been starving for this moment.
I can taste the faint salt of sweat on his lips from our earlier frenzy in the car, and it only makes me want him more.
"Fuck, Laney," he growls against my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, hard enough to leave marks. "I can't get enough of you. Your pussy is all I can think about, wet, tight, and all mine."
His words send a jolt straight to my core, and I press against him, my fingers digging into his top. He lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me to the bedroom, his cock already hard and pressing against me through his jeans. He drops me onto the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight, and stands there for a second, his dark eyes raking over my body like I'm his prize.
"Strip," he commands, his voice low and rough, laced with that accent that makes my thighs clench. He's already unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest, scarred and tattooed, a map of violence that only turns me on more.
I obey, shimmying out of my jeans and panties in one motion, my bra following quickly. I'm bare for him now, my nipples pebbled in the cool air, my pussy already slick and aching from earlier.
He sheds the rest of his clothes, his cock springing free, thick, veined, the head glistening with precum. It's huge, curving slightly upward, and I remember how it stretched me earlier, filling me to the brink as I rode him in the front seat of his car.
"On your knees," he says, stepping closer, his hand fisting his shaft as he strokes himself slowly. "I want your mouth first. Show me how much you want this cock."
I slide off the bed and drop to my knees on the plush carpet, my mouth watering at the sight of him. I lean forward, my tongue flicking out to taste the salty bead at his tip. He groans, his free hand tangling in my hair, guiding me as I take him in deeper. I wrap my lips around him, sucking hard, my tongue swirling along the underside as I bob my head.
He's so thick I can barely fit him in, my jaw aches, but I love it. The way he fills my mouth, the musky taste of him, the way his hips twitch like he's fighting not to thrust too hard.
"That's it," he rasps, his grip tightening in my hair. "Suck me like you own me. Fuck, your mouth is perfect, hot and wet, just like your tight cunt."
I hum around him, the vibration making him curse in Russian, and I take him deeper, gagging slightly as he hits the back of my throat. Tears prick my eyes, but I don't stop, hollowing my cheeks and working him with my hand at the base where my mouth can't reach. His balls tighten, and I cup them, rolling them gently, feeling them draw up as his breath turns ragged.
"Enough," he growls suddenly, pulling me off with a wet pop. "I don't want to come down your throat. Not yet. Get on the bed, ass up. I want to see that pretty pussy dripping for me."
My heart races as I scramble onto the bed, positioning myself on all fours, my ass in the air, exposed and vulnerable. I feel his weight dip the mattress behind me, his hands gripping my hips, thumbs spreading my cheeks apart.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "So wet, your pussy lips swollen and begging. You’re desperate for my cock, aren’t you."
"Yes," I whimper, pushing back against him. "Fuck me. Hard. Please—"
He chuckles darkly, the head of his cock teasing my entrance, sliding through my folds but not entering.
"Not yet. I want to taste you first." Before I can protest, his mouth is on me, his tongue plunging into my pussy from behind, lapping at my juices like he's starved. I cry out, my arms buckling as he devours me, his tongue flicking over my clit before sucking it hard between his lips.
"Oh god," I moan, my face pressing into the pillows. He adds two fingers, thrusting them deep, curling them just right. His stubble scrapes my inner thighs, the slight burn heightening everything. I'm soaking his face, my arousal dripping down his chin, but he doesn't stop eating me out with ruthless precision, his free hand reaching around to pinch my nipple.
The orgasm hits like a freight train, my pussy clenching around his fingers, waves of pleasure ripping through me. I scream his name, my body shaking, but he doesn't let up, licking me through it until I'm oversensitive and begging.
Only then does he rise up, his cock nudging my entrance.
"Good girl," he praises, and then he thrusts in, all the way, with one brutal stroke that has me gasping. He's so deep, stretching me wide, the angle letting him hit places that make me see white. "Fuck, you're tight. Your pussy was made for my cock, squeezing me like you never want to let go."
He starts moving, hard and fast, his hips slamming against my ass with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, mixed with my moans and his grunts. His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise, pulling me back onto him as he pounds into me.
"You feel that?" he growls. "Feel how deep I am? I'm going to fill this pussy with my cum, breed you until you're dripping with me."
The words send another shockwave through me, dirty and primal, and I push back harder, meeting his thrusts. "Yes, fuck, yes, Yakov. Harder."
He obliges, one hand sliding up to wrap around my throat, pulling me up against his chest. The new angle lets him go even deeper, his cock dragging against my G-spot with every stroke. His other hand finds my clit, rubbing in tight circles as he fucks me relentlessly. "Come again," he orders, his breath hot against my ear. "Milk my cock, Laney. Show me how much you love being filled by me."
I shatter again, my pussy spasming around him, and this time he follows, roaring my name as he buries himself deep. I feel him pulse inside me, hot spurts of cum filling me up, leaking out around his cock as he keeps thrusting through his release. It's messy, intense, and I love every second of it.
We collapse onto the bed, both panting, his body covering mine. He rolls us to the side, still inside me, his arms wrapping around me possessively. "Mine," he murmurs, kissing my shoulder. "Always mine."
I smile, utterly spent and satisfied. "Always."
Epilogue
