His hand cups my cheek, caressing it while murmuring something in Russian I don’t understand. Still, the way he says it sounds and feels tender. I imagine it’s something sweet he’s telling me.
Then I hear my name. “Nala.Pchyolka.”
I don’t know who leans in first. All I know is, his lips crash against mine, warm and firm, commanding like he’s claiming what belongs to him. He pulls back to look at me. My lips tingle. I trace them with my finger, still feeling him there. He dips back in, kissing me again, deeper this time before stopping again, studying my face like he’s in awe of whatever he sees.
My heart races so fast I feel lightheaded. I stare up at him, my eyes wide and I know he can see it written all over my face, how much I like this. How badly I want more. I want everything.
His blue eyes darken. His jaw tightens and his hand on my chin grips me harder.
He’s kissing me again and it’s more intense. I follow his lead, trying to match his movements, learn the rhythm and pressure of his mouth on mine.
His tongue glides slowly along my bottom lip. Then his mouth leaves mine, traveling down my jaw, my throat and my neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there.
Pleasure hits me instantly, dizzying and shooting straight between my legs. I didn't know kissing could do this. Or make my body ache like this.
In one smooth motion, he pulls me onto his lap. My legs fall open, spreading wide around his thighs, my body pressed against his. His arms lock around my hips, holding me there, so close I can feel his hardness between us.
His cock.
It’s hard and thick, pushing against his pants and pressinginsistently against me. Without thinking, I rock my hips into him, the feeling unbelievable.
Roman tightens his grip, helping me to grind up and down on him. Each stroke of friction makes the ache inside my pussy build, hotter and more desperate. A rough sound rips from his throat. He growls as one hand leaves my hips to close over my breast through my shirt. My head falls back as I grind harder, feeling him getting bigger. Every time I rock my pussy against him, his cock presses more against me. Sparks of pleasure shoot through my body.
“Roman, “I moan, not even sure what I’m asking for, only that I need him to know how good this feels.
He mutters something harsh in Russian, low and guttural, the tone making my skin burn.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Rub your little cunt on me.”
My body understands immediately. I grind down harder, rubbing myself against that rigid length beneath me. The friction sends white hot heat flooding through me, wetness soaks my panties, and my leggings, making everything slick, hot and sensitive.
I want more, so desperate for relief from this unbearable ache.
"Take this off,” he orders, fingers brushing the hem of my shirt.
I don’t hesitate, pulling it over my head, letting it fall to the floor somewhere behind me. He reaches behind, unhooking my bra, peeling it away until my breasts spill free—heavy and full, swaying as I rub my pussy on him.
My nipples ache, hard and sensitive. Roman goes still. I look down and find his gaze locked on my chest. He looks up at me slowly, then drags his finger over one nipple. “So beautiful,” he groans. “I’ve been dying to see them like this."
He cups both breasts, his palms rough as he squeezes them, rolling my nipples between his fingers. I cry out,clutching his shoulders as he lowers his head and closes his mouth around one nipple.
“Oh God.”
My body shudders violently. I can’t think. I didn’t know this was possible, that this kind of pleasure existed. I lace my fingers through his hair, moaning and writhing on his lap while he sucks my breast.
"Don't stop,” I plead. “Please don't stop. Please."
He doesn't.
His mouth works my nipple, sucking so hard it borders on pain. Roman bites gently, then soothes it with his tongue. I rock desperately against him, moaning and whimpering, making sounds I've never made before.
He moves to my other breast, giving it the same attention. His tongue circles my nipple before he pulls it into his mouth and sucks. I hold his head there with both hands, my hips frantic now, out of control.
His hand slides down between us, cupping me through my leggings, right where I'm soaking wet and aching. He presses hard and I nearly scream, my whole body jerking against his hand.
"You’re soaked," he rasps against my breast. “Lie back, Nala. I need to see how wet this pussy actually is.”
He pushes me back onto the couch, his mouth leaving my breast and his hands going to my leggings. He hooks two fingers into my waistband, his fingers grazing the bare skin of my stomach. He starts pulling them down over my hips and down my thighs. I lift my hips to help him, wanting them off, wanting him to see how much I want him and how badly I want whatever he’s about to do with me.
