“So pretty.” He wipes away saliva from where it seeped out of my open mouth, and despite the flush of embarrassment—I drooled, gross—he sounds sincere as he drives back into my throat.
I choke, but I don’t let go, and he eases out. I drag in a breath and adjust the angle of my head. The next time it’s easier. And deeper.
He groans. Then thrusts, hard.
The force would send me backwards if it weren’t for his guiding hand. I’m trapped between that hand and his enormous cock. My eyes water, and the back of my mouth burns when he pushes against it, but I don’t let go.
Iwantthis. Between my legs turns to liquid heat.
His next movement is rhythmic, and within seconds he is using my mouth, and there’s a pattern between us. When he builds up the speed, I adjust with him.
“Well done.” He strokes a tendril of hair away from my cheek, as though he wants to be able to see me fully, then caresses the back of my head roughly, swearing in Russian. “Your mouth feels like heaven. So. Good.” He punctuates his words with thrusts.
He fucks me, and it’s almost violent.
I hang onto his thighs for dear life as he rams into my mouth, controlling everything. I’m his doll, and it’s a wonderful relaxed, spacey sensation unlike anything I’ve experienced. I give myself over to him. Trusting him.
I press my thighs together, needing friction on my clit. I’m desperate.
“Your hair is gorgeous.” His voice is rough, like he’s as close to the edge of sanity as I am. I love that. “Silk. Perfect silk.”
He gathers my hair to the back of my head and closes his fist around it, tightening. The pinpricks of sensation shoot sparks to my clit, and I moan as he takes my mouth over and over, the ring of his piercing rubbing onto my tongue and pushing right into my throat with every thrust.
I squirm, trying to get some contact on my clit.
“Are you wet, lapochka?”
A needy little hum escapes me, and I keep my aching jaw open for him to use me. My nipples are tingling with the need for stimulation.
“Touch yourself.”
My brain sparks-out. What?
“Show me how much you like me using your mouth. If it makes you hot, then do it. Make yourself come as I shoot my load down your throat.”
I tighten my fingers on his thighs. Is this a trick?
“Just one hand, Tess,” he coaxes. “It’s okay. I won’t stop. Not unless you let me go.”
With that reassurance, I allow my right hand to release him, and in a second I’ve pushed away my shorts and have plunged my fingers between my legs.
My eyes are watering from the rough treatment of my mouth, but my clit sparks instantly when I rub over it.
I’m floating. There’s no other word for it as I ignore all the odd angles my body is in and relish the feel of Kirill’s hot length in my mouth and the surge of pleasure on my clit.
“Such a good girl. That’s it. You’re my good girl, taking my cock so well.”
My clit pulses at his compliment and then he moans and my body hears even more praise.
It tips me over. I shake as ecstasy floods me down to my toes, white light that crests and washes through me in wave after wave.
“So beautiful when you come for me, and…” His voice cracks. “Blyat.”
He swells, getting even bigger. Then he’s pulsing and filling my mouth with his come, salty and a bit sour, and oh god, I’m overwhelmed.
16
KIRILL
