If I wanted, I could voice my safe word right now. Yet, I don’t. I can’t.
“How does this pussy stay, Cecilia, hmm?”
Crap. My hands must have slipped at some point.
“I said, how?”
“O-Open,” I murmur.
“Open. That’s right. And if you let go?”
I hide my face in the sheets then bring it to the side again. “We start all over again.”
“Lovely,” he says, and then a sharp pain flashes through my throbbing slit. I gasp, my eyes fluttering open, hot tingles spreading through my flesh like needles. The feeling lingers for a few short seconds before pleasure replaces it.
He…spanked me. He spanked my pussy.
“So be a good girl—” Smack! “—and keep your cunt—” Smack! “open the way I asked.” Smack! “Yes?”
By the time he’s done, I’m soaked, heaving, and at a loss for words. My legs stretch and bend on their own accord as I writhe on the sheets, my pussy sensitive and wanton. When he touches me again, he’s gentle, stroking me softly, as if he’s not the same man he was a moment ago.
“I asked you a question.”
That endearing tone again.
“Y-Yes.” I swallow. “Yes. I’m sorry,” I rush to say, snaking my arms down to spread my folds for him again.
He’s silent now, and his touches have stopped. He’s watching me, letting me wait for him to resume whenever he feels like it. All the while, I lie here with my pussy open in offering. God, how he toys with me. How can I love this so much? How can I needhim so much that any pride and any sanity I was hanging on to is slipping away from me?
When he finally cups my slit a few moments later, every gentle stroke of that finger against my openings feels like blazing heat followed by a snowstorm. Hot and cold. Pleasant and agonizing from all the stimulation he’s been unleashing on me.
“Mhm, just like that. Keep going for me, sweetheart.”
My second orgasm—mad-driven, harsh, and spontaneous—hits me completely out of nowhere. I clench and pulse and squirm, my body giving out again before his eyes. Tears of pleasure and overwhelm wet my cheeks, and when I open my eyes, the look on his face is ravenous, like I’ve done something merely by surrendering that flipped a switch inside him.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, my chest shuddering with soft sobs. I don’t even know why I’m crying. I just am.
He stands, and I don’t fail to notice the enormous bulge in his pants even through my hazy vision. Did all that turn him on? I have no idea how I’ll be able to reciprocate to this extent.
The mattress dips under his weight as he crawls above me, the scent of his cologne mixing with that of my wetness—a sweet, tangy smell that proves just how responsive my body was. He leans in, looking as if he wants to kiss me, so I close my eyes, desperate to feel the touch of his lips on mine.
“Don’t cry,Lastochka. It makes me want to lick you again.”
His tongue darts out, tasting the wet spots on my cheeks with a groan. I suck in a breath, partly mesmerized, partly confused. Does he like seeing me cry? The thought makes my clit flutter for reasons I can’t explain. Maybe I enjoy a little pain. Or maybe I just like him looking at me like he can’t get enough.
I place my trembling hands on his chest, pulling at the buttons of his shirt as I wrap my legs around his torso. A swift motion has both my wrists locked in one of his hands as he pinsthem above my head. I gasp, my toes curling when his other hand goes back to my used pussy.
“I don’t know if…if I can come again,” I smile through my tears.
“Oh, but you will. You let your hands slip, twice now, even though I warned you. So, we’ll take all night if we have to, but you’re coming for me again,” he says, smearing my wetness in lazy circles between my folds as he stares into my shaking eyes.
Swallowing, I let that wicked finger slide inside me again. And again. And again. Until a sheer layer of sweat coats my temples as I take every single one of his torturous strokes with a moan.
“Mikhail…I can’t…” I whisper. “No more. It’s too much.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” he drawls with false sympathy. “Give me your pussy and be quiet. One more.”
My eyes roll back with pleasure, his words my undoing. Out of everything that could’ve happened tonight, him making me come a thousand times wasn’t one. What about him, though? I’m supposed to reciprocate somehow. I want to.
