“Needy fucking girl, aren’t you?” I tease, a thumb playing through the wetness of her core. Bea’s head drops, and she moans an affirmative sound. Bringing my other thumb up, I spread her and trace my tongue where I know she’s aching.
The burst of sweet flavor that is uniquely Bea explodes across my tongue and sets loose the ravenous beast inside me. I devour her with single-minded focus until she shakes and bucks against my face, riding the high of her release. I hold her against me, drinking down every drop she has to offer until her body relaxes, and she twists away with sensitivity.
As I rise to my feet, Bea is draped over the counter, curls swirling around her shoulders as they heave and she tries to catch her breath. Her skin has the barest sheen of sweat, andher eyes are unfocused with the post-orgasm haze she’s smiling through.
“Oh my fucking God,” she mumbles over and over again. The words are not holy, but a divine prayer all the same. I grip my cock, pumping once, twice, before I pull out the nearest barstool. Bea’s eyes focus on the scrape of the chair leg against the tile, a question lingering in them.
Abandoning the hold on my desperate cock, I lift Bea’s leg, setting her knee in the center of the plush seat. She rises to her tiptoes on her standing leg and gasps when the position spreads her open for me. I step up behind her, weaving an arm behind her elbows, and hoist her up, holding her in place. Her back arches, and I press a kiss to her exposed shoulder.
“Ready for more?” I ask. Using my other hand, I swipe the head of my cock through her wetness, dipping it in at her entrance before repeating the action. Bea nods enthusiastically. “Tell me,solnyshka.Tell me how badly you want it.”
“I want it. So much,” she starts, looking at me through her lashes. Her bottom lip pouts out, and her tits are thrust in front of her. I wish I had more hands so I could hold them as I thrust into her. Instead, I feed her the first inches of my cock, the heat and tightness around it causing my head to drop where I just kissed her skin. “Yes, Nikita. Forgot how big your cock was.”
I push forward another inch and pull back, my shaft slick with Bea’s arousal, then press in again. I let my cock go and grip the flesh of Bea’s thigh as I work myself deeper. Her soft skin and breathy gasps are the only anchors I have to keep me from driving in as hard and fast as possible.
“Fuck me full,” Bea begs, “Give me everything.”
I’m lost to her desires. My hips piston in and out as I bend my knees to go even faster. The change of angle nudges a spot in Bea that has her shaking in my arms on the edge of completion. I skim my hand over her hip to the front of her, fingers searchingfor her clit. The high-pitched moan Bea lets out confirms I’ve found it, and I begin circling the engorged bud with the pad of my finger.
“This pussy,” I tell her. My balls tingle when Bea begins to tighten around my cock. She’s close, and I’m not far behind. “Dreamed of it. But this is better than any fantasy.You’rebetter than any fantasy. Fucking perfect the way you squeeze me.”
I press on her clit when I feel the ripples of her orgasm along my shaft. They grow, and I thrust harder, desperate to topple over the edge with her. When Bea cries out, her pussy clamps down on me, contracting in a way that leaves me helpless to do anything but let her milk my orgasm from me. My own shout signals my release, hard and fast, unloading as I pull her against me.
“Ya tebya lyublyu.”I release my hold on her and wrap my arms around her.
“I love you, too.”
CHAPTER 27
BEA
“Since when do you speak Russian, Beatie?” Gus asks, perched on the corner of the cabin’s kitchen island. I glare at him as I finish my conversation with Natalia and hand the phone back to Nicky, who tells his daughter goodnight and hangs up.
It was hard leaving her with Ms. Margaret, but it’s a good test for her separation anxiety. Nicky checked with Nat’s therapist and got the encouragement he needed to leave her. While we’re a solid five-hour drive, Nicky promised her he’d charter a plane to get home quicker should she need us. Even clinging to Floppy, I think Natalia was excited to spend a few days of extra movie nights and the fun surprises we left behind for her. It is spring break, after all.
“Since my mother spent every day reminding me, ‘Yelena Koreshkov is a proud Russian woman,’ and taught me. Mum didn’t give a lot of hugs, but she made me bilingual.” Nicky wraps his arms around my middle and drops his chin atop myhead. Gus’ jaw hangs open, and I give him a wink. “It was really fun when Nicky found out my parlor trick.”
Nicky chuckles softly in my ear, probably thinking of all the ways it’s come in handy for us.
“Damn.” Gus sighs, hopping off the counter and heading to the tray of prepped vegetables on the other side of the kitchen. “All I can do is tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue.”
“He loved telling girls that when he was in high school,” Maeve says. Gus’ sister sits at the dining room table with Leo, deep in a game of UNO. She’s on spring break from Yale, and I don’t think Gus was thrilled she decided to tag along. But I spent some of our drive up here talking to her, and it sounds like her freshman year has been tough. “Of course, now that I’m older, I’m highly icked out that he would boast about it.”
“At least I always had a date to homecoming,” Gus calls back to her, making Maeve wince.
“Homecoming was in the middle of the cross-country season! Forgive me for not giving a shit.” She holds a middle finger in the air at her brother, which he immediately reciprocates, effectively ending the conversation.
I twist to look up at Nicky, who has the same confused look on his face that I do. “Don’t look at me,” he says. “I was an only child, too. I don’t get it.”
“Not sure having a sibling of your own would explain these two,” Obie says from his spot at the stove. He’s tossing the loaded wok, our stir fry leaping in the air before gracefully landing back in the pan. “They are their own David Attenborough special. Ow!”
Obie sets the wok down clunkily as he reaches for his head, rubbing his temple as he glares at the raw snap pea skittering across the floor. When he looks back up at Gus, his teammate just shrugs.
“You’re lucky I’m making dinner.” Obie picks up the pod, launching it at Gus so quickly there’s no chance of him blocking it. With a satisfying thud, the vegetable smacks Gus in the center of his forehead. Obie shifts back to his task as chef while Gus reaches for an uncut bell pepper.
“Not a chance, buddy.” Like the leader he is, Crosby enters the kitchen and wraps a gentle hand around Gus’ wrist.
“C’mon,” Gus pleads, puppy-dog eyes begging to little effect. I giggle silently in Nicky’s arms, happy to be around the lightness that comes with this group of people. Crosby shakes his head once, strong enough that Gus relents. “Fine.”
