Kolya’s dark chuckle vibrates my entire being. “Anything for my good girl.” His hand comes down again, more forcefully this time, the sting blooming into a fire that radiates through my core.
I’m beyond shame now, beyond thought.
There is only desire and need, only this moment where I am perfectly and completely his.
I’m quaking, struggling to hold the position he’s placed me in. My muscles quiver with exhaustion and anticipation. When his hands stroke my breasts, I nearly collapse, relief and disappointment warring within me.
He torments my nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers until I whimper, pleading for more. His relentless touch travels from my breasts to between my legs, where he finds me soaking wet and ready.
“Please.”
“Please what?” His body forms a solid wall of heat behind me. “Use big girl words.”
In my current state of arousal, that’s an easy command to follow. “Please fuck me. I need you inside me. Now.”
The noise that escapes him—half growl, half laugh—rumbles between us. “Since you asked so nicely…”
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come already. My body is both wrung out and hypersensitive, every nerve ending raw and exposed.
I should feel sated, but I’m not.
Only he can fill the emptiness inside me, satisfy the hunger that’s been building since I first saw him.
When he finally pushes inside me, the stretch is almost too much.
I gasp, my body tensing around the intrusion.
He doesn’t give me time to adjust. Just takes me with the same ruthless efficiency he applies to everything.
I arch my spine, writhing against him.
His fingers dig into my hips. “So tight. So perfect.”
The praise washes over me, seeping into my skin like rain into parched earth. I yearn to be everything he says I am.
Perfect.
Good.
His.
His hand fists my hair, and he pushes me back down. “I said face down, ass up.”
“Yes, sir.” I can’t believe I just said that, but when he drags his fingertips across my scalp, rewarding me, I’m glad I did.
He sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving me forward on the rug.
The rough fibers scrape my knees and palms. My nipples too. The slight burn only heightens the bliss, creating a feedback loop of sensation that compounds with every movement.
His hands clutch my hips, and I quiver as he groans. The sounds spark even more pleasure.
It’s too much, too intense.
Just enough. Just right.
My body is pliant, eager. My head floats weightlessly. An unnamed pressure grasps my heart, growing with every single touch.
Continuous moans slip from my lips, sounds I barely recognize.
