I push myself up onto my forearms, my whole body on high alert. One wrong touch and I could tip over the edge again.
I can’t tear my eyes away from him. He’s huge. Thick. Intimidating in the most sinful way. I’ve never seen a man built like that in real life, and the thought of him inside me makes my head spin.
“It’s going to feel so good thrusting deep inside you, baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t worry.”
My eyes flick to his, and I grin.
“Can I?” I ask, rising onto my knees.
His hand reaches for the hem of my crop top.
“Off,” he commands.
The authority in his voice sends a rush straight through me.
I help him pull it over my head, and he tosses it aside.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes dragging over my breasts.
I cup them, teasing my nipples deliberately.
“You have no idea how perfect you are, do you?” he says, his hand coming up to cradle my cheek.
My gaze drops instinctively.
He tips my chin up at once. My breath stutters.
“I bet those pretty lips would look beautiful wrapped around my cock,” he says, a smirk tugging at his mouth.
“I think so too.”
I normally hate doing this. But Drago doesn’t make me feel like it’s an obligation, something I have to do to get my own pleasure in return. No. He puts power in everything he says, power that rests with me. He’s pushing my boundaries, and it’s making me come alive.
“My dirty girl wants to taste me?” he asks, swiping a bead of pre-cum from the tip. “Hmm?”
I nod, biting my lip. “So bad, Drago.”
His eyebrow lifts as he drags his finger along my mouth. When I run my tongue over the spot he touched, tasting him there, his breath catches.
I swallow. “Sir, please.”
When I call him that, I feel myself getting wetter. That need burning through me.
He steps off the bed smoothly and comes to stand in front of me. His gaze pins me in place as he curls two fingers toward himself. “Crawl to me, lastochka.”
My heart pounds and my body responds before my mind can catch up. I’ve never done this before, but god damn, I want to crawl to him, especially when he’s looking like he’s struggling to hold himself together watching me.
I’m on my hands and knees. Crawling across the bed, never breaking eye contact as hunger flashes in his eyes.
A low growl leaves his chest when I take him into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the tip as I glance up through mylashes. His fingers slide into my hair, holding me steady, guiding me gently as he eases deeper.
“Beautiful,” he whispers.
He lets me set the rhythm, lets me find what I can take. My eyes water, and he watches like I’m something precious.
“Breathe for me, baby.” His hips begin to move slowly.
“Fuck,” he pants.
