My fingers tremble as I grasp the hem of my T-shirt. I lift it up, the fabric sliding over my skin, exposing my stomach first, then my ribs, and finally my breasts. The cool air hits me, making my nipples harden as I pull it over my head and let it drop to the floor, standing there half-naked under his scrutiny.
"Shorts next," he instructs. "Slide them down."
I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts, pushing them past my hips. They catch on my thighs for a moment before I shimmy them lower, bending slightly to step out of them. Nopanties underneath. I feel exposed and vulnerable, but the heat in his eyes spurs me on. I kick the shorts aside, now completely bare.
"Touch yourself," he says. "Show me how wet you are."
I swallow hard as my hand drifts down my body. My fingers find the slick moisture between my legs, and I groan at the contact while I circle my clit.
"That's it," he murmurs.
The contact feels good, but this isn't what I'm wanting and he knows it. Still, I rub my clit and look at him through hooded eyes as I perch on the edge of his table and spread myself.
"God, you're sexy." He reaches for his belt, unbuckling it with one hand while holding his ribs with the other. The leather whispers as he pulls it free, then pops the button on his jeans. He unzips them, shoving the denim down his thighs along with his boxers. His cock springs free, and he wraps his hand around the base, stroking upward. "Look at me," he commands. "See what you do to me."
I watch him pump his fist along his shaft, and my fingers move more quickly, dipping inside myself. Pleasure coils tight in my belly and my body contracts as I anticipate him entering me. Maybe this is more erotic than his just bending me over and fucking me, the way his eyes are glued to everything I'm doing while he stares at me in a lust-induced haze.
He stays leaning against the counter, stroking himself, with his eyes locked on my fingers as they circle my clit in slow, tentative strokes. The slickness builds, but pleasure stays distant—teasing me, not consuming me. But my breath is shallow as I plead withmy body to cooperate. The alcohol has dulled my nerves. I need his hands on me to make this good.
"Look at you," he says quietly. "Look at that pretty pink pussy dripping."
I bite my lip, pressing my fingers harder so the ache grows, yet release stays frustratingly out of reach.
"Spread wider," he orders. "Show me every inch."
I slide my feet farther apart and rest each foot on a chair, knees falling open. My other hand joins, one circling my clit while two fingers dip inside, curling just inside my entrance to where it feels the best, and Vadim strokes himself faster. His dick glistens with precum beading on his head, and it makes me groan. I want him inside me.
"Good. Keep going. Make yourself ache for it."
This is torture. Normal men don't do this. They want to enjoy the fruits, not watch them. But he's drawing this out and making it agonizing.
My voice cracks as I say, "Please."
"Please what?" He steps closer, and his cock bobs as he lets go and pulls his shirt off, then shucks his pants all the way. "You want to come?"
"Yes," I whimper as I watch him toe off his boots and step out of his pants. His body is incredible. Muscle shifts and moves under his tattoo-covered skin, and with biceps like that, it's no wonder he's able to toss me around like a rag doll.
"Then earn it." His free hand grips my knee, thumb pressing into the soft skin. "Finger yourself deeper. Tell me how empty you feel without my cock."
I push two fingers in fully, then add a third, stretching myself. "Empty," I gasp. "So fucking empty…" Now we're getting somewhere. This is starting to feel incredible, but I still want him, not this.
He groans low as his fist returns to his shaft. "Not yet. Keep working that greedy pussy. Show me you can take more."
My head falls back and my nips roll upward as my coil tightens and my body clenches around my own fingers. I could come just from this, so maybe he knows what he's doing.
Vadim watches every movement, every flutter of my fingers, every twitch of my thighs.
"Beautiful," he mutters. "So desperate."
I whimper, fingers pumping faster. "Vadim—Oh, God?—"
The pleasure is so incredible, I don't want to stop, and with the alcohol numbing things, I'm shocked I've gotten this far, but I'm going to come. The way he talks to me is pushing my buttons. My hips buck up, and my cunt starts to tighten, and then he grips my wrist and pulls my fingers away.
"Stop," he says.
My hand freezes mid-motion. I whimper, body throbbing, clit swollen and aching. The near-release dissipates slowly as I look up at him and with pleading eyes try to decide what he's doing.
He steps forward and spreads my thighs wider with his palms before he positions himself at my entrance. His thick headnudges my slick folds, teasing me again, and I watch his jaw work as he grits his teeth and looks me in the eye.
