“Is your mouth watering?” he rasps. I tear my gaze away from that huge length and up until I see his face, my neck craned back.
“Look at my cock.”
I hear rather than see the rustle and stretch of fabric, and slowly lower my head.
I gasp. Excitement jumps from my chest.
Because poking out of the top of his black boxers is the imposing, bulbous head of his cock, yes. But that was what I expected, and there’s something else that makes my eyes widen with shock.
A ring.
I didn’t think he’d be pierced. A thick silver-metal ring juts out from the tip of his cock, and curves over the head. A drop of opaque moisture sits next to the metal.
Pre-come, I realise.
“Still want this in your mouth?” he asks, a little tauntingly.
He’s expecting me to back away. He’s deliberately trying to scare me.
He pushes his underwear down the rest of the way, revealing how long and thick he is. Scary, or it would be if it weren’t Kirill. Because he’s just mesmerising. His cock is pink-red, with a veinthat curves down the length. At the root are balls that hang down, and neatly trimmed black hair.
My heart is so loud surely he can hear it.
Deliberately, he grips his cock in the middle—there’s more than his big, tattooed hand can hold—and strokes up and down slowly. It emphasises how large he is, and the emergence of the metal ring from over his fingers as he tugs down on his head is shocking. Lewd. Brutal and masculine.
I want to taste him.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He stills, his knuckles going white as he squeezes his cock in his fist. “Open for me.”
My heart pounds as I sloppily lick my lips, and open my mouth.
“More, lapochka.”
My jaw clicks as force my jaw wider. The scent of him is musky and clean. Something that’s indefinably him, and makes me salivate.
“Such a pretty, fuckable pink mouth,” he croons. “I’m going to enjoy defiling you.”
The first touch of metal and skin to my lip as he pushes his cock forwards is a surprise. I thought the metal would be cold, but of course it’s warmed by his body. Smooth and hard, and by comparison the helmet of his cock is the finest velvet over unyielding flesh.
He stops there, just resting on my lips, and his jaw clenches. Exerting control over himself, I wonder. I remain obediently still.
“Put your hands on my thighs,” he orders, and I am humiliatingly quick to do as he says. “Good. I’m going to use your sweet mouth exactly as roughly as you’ve been thinking of. You won’t be able to speak to tell me it’s too much.”
He pushes forwards, and I eagerly take him into my mouth, or perhaps he feeds his length to me.
“I won’t stop if you cry, or choke.” His voice is like iron. “But if you let your hands fall from me, I’ll stop. Tap if you understand.”
I hastily tap his leg to confirm I get his rules. There’s no way I’m going to release him.
“That’s it,” he rumbles, and grips my head to control me. “Such a willing, hot, wet little hole.”
Then he pushes further into my mouth, to the back of my throat, until I think I can’t manage, I can’t breathe, it hurts, but it’s so good that I’m digging my nails into his thighs through his jeans.
Just as I’m sure I’ll die, he withdraws with a soft, shuddery breath… And shoves back in.
I jerk with the surprise of it, and arousal unfurls low in my belly like smoke and shimmering magic. My clit pulses, and I’m shocked by how hot this is.
