His body becomes my focus.
Miles of tightly packed muscle that flows and ripples as he moves over me and grinds his hips down. I part my legs and loopthem around his waist so that the next roll of his hips brings his hard, hidden cock down right against my pussy. My core throbs and my heart jumps in excitement while heat gathers deep in my lower belly.
My fingertips roam his torso, locating scar after scar which brings rise to questions deep within the fog of lust in my mind. What sort of life has he led that he’s covered in this many scars? Short fat ones rise under my thumbs, long thin ones slide against my fingertips and a wide one near his hip almost distracts me fully from the kiss.
Almost.
He paws at my breasts with both hands, then grips my bra and pulls it taut. I gasp, breaking the kiss as he jerks my bra one way, then the other, then he huffs out a short, sharp laugh.
“Hate these things.”
“Hold on,” I gasp, giggling as I brace on one elbow. “Let me just…”
The clasp gives way under my fingertips and Ruslan tears my bra from my body, then he pauses and my heart punches into my throat.
Does he not like what he sees?
I’ve never thought about it until this moment, but the way he stares at my chest makes me nervous. Are my tits not nice enough? Is the lust making his cheeks pink and kisses ravenous not enough to distract him from that?
Just as my thoughts tumble into panic, Ruslan suddenly touches my abdomen just below my ribs and traces his fingers across thescar there from my surgery after the crash. I’d almost forgotten about it.
“Is it ugly?” I pant softly. “I’ve never had a scar.”
Ruslan smirks. “Me neither.”
I glance at his torso and laugh. “Sure.”
“It’s not ugly,” Ruslan says. “It’s… I’m sorry it’s even there.”
“Don’t be. Without it, I’d be dead.” A slightly morbid discussion while Ruslan’s hovering over me with a tent in his jeans and my panties are utterly drenched, but none of that bothers me. “Just as long as you like my tits.”
Ruslan laughs loudly then and my cheeks flare, shame creeping over me like a chill, but before I can decipher why, Ruslan’s kissing me again and both his hands paw at my bare breasts.
“There’s no such thing as ugly tits.” He grins against my lips. “But yours are beautiful, if you need that ego stroke.”
“It’s not ego!” I gasp, moaning as he catches my nipples between his knuckles and squeezes. “It’s… a regular concern.”
“Sure,” Ruslan purrs, and he prevents me from saying anything else by sliding his tongue into my mouth.
I moan and relax against him, my eyes closing while his tongue weaves and dances with my own, his hands paw and massage my breasts, and his hips roll down repeatedly against my own.
Fuck.
I need him.
This is nice, but I need more.
I need my brain to short-circuit and turn off. To be unable to comprehend anything but the raw physicality of his body, where no thoughts can breach the pleasure. I need to switch off.
“Please,” I gasp when Ruslan breaks the kiss and pants breathlessly against me. I cup his face and stroke the stubble along his jaw. “Please, fuck me so hard I can’t think.”
“What a request,” Ruslan purrs, his voice low and more like a vibration than anything else.
A request he grants.
I barely have a second to register what he’s doing before he’s between my legs and tearing my jeans from my thighs so fast that the denim burns against my skin. My panties quickly follow and I open my mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a long, drawn-out moan as he shoves two fingers deep inside me. The sudden intrusion shocks me, but a deep pulse of satisfaction sweeps through me as finally, I get what I want.
“Fuck,” Ruslan rumbles. “You’re so wet and I haven’t even done anything yet.”
