No. Not devours.
Worships.
He eats me like a starving man, with reverence and a strangely gentle violence that strips away every layer until only raw, shivering desire remains.
My entire body quakes as my breath comes in mad, fractured gasps.
He’s showing me how to surrender and claim at the same time.
My nails dig desperate crescents into his skin as the euphoria surges up and up and up. I’m close—so close—when suddenly he stops.
Again.
All sensation vanishes, and I’m left hovering once more.
“Wait,” he commands.
“Nooo…” My teeth clench. I swear, I will murder him if he even thinks of?—
Kirill hoists me up once more and flips me over. For a moment, I’m a weightless, helpless doll in the hands of a wild animal.
Then, with infuriating patience, he arranges me until his mouth is under me again. Except this time, when I glance down, I find his cock right in front of my face, thick and hard and straining against his pants. His voice comes from between my legs, his minty breath teasing me. “I thought you might want to have some fun rearranging my chaotic energies.”
My mind is dust, my thoughts racing in frantic circles.
This man listens. Remembers my silly little words. Even in the middle of sex.
The surprise ignites a fresh wave of heat, which floods my cheeks and pools low in my belly. He’s not just giving me control.
He’s daring me to take it.
If that’s not positive karmic energy, I don’t know what is.
A primal urge seizes me.
I reach for his waistband with trembling hands, fumble the button open at an odd angle, then drag the fabric down far enough to free him.
As my fist cloaks his cock, Kirill releases a raw, needy groan that electrifies every nerve ending in my body. My own low, feralmoan answers his as I stroke him. Under my attention, he grows even stiffer, but he never stops working me with his mouth and tongue.
When I lower my lips and take him into my mouth, the sensation nearly shorts out my brain.
He’s so fucking hard.
His hips jerk up, his hands tightening on my thighs until I’m sure fingertip-shaped bruises will paint my skin by morning.
I bob my head, my tongue swirling, and every time I hollow my cheeks around him, he bucks. His growls vibrate straight through my core.
He continues driving me higher, refusing to let me pull away even when the pleasure threatens to shatter me.
Everything I do to him, he returns with triple the intensity, until I’m dizzy and mindless, caught between giving and receiving, both of us locked in a vicious, wondrous cycle. I want to tease him, to torment him as he’s tormented me, but I can’t.
My own arousal overrides every impulse except for need. I suck him harder, deeper, desperate for the taste and the power, and allow my eyes to roll back in my head as he does the same.
I’m spiraling, the euphoria mounting with every pass of his tongue, every guttural groan that escapes his throat. I fight to hold on, to drive him to come before me, but he knows my body too well. He senses the moment I start to unravel and clamps down with both hands, grinding my hips against his face and choking me on the intensity.
I orgasm so violently that I think I might black out from the overload. I’m so lost in the bliss that I swallow more of him than I mean to, nearly choking myself and making Kirill gasp against my thigh.
He pushes me up, moving me once more with that effortless control until I’m straddling his hips again. The blunt head of his cock presses against me without entering.
