They roam up and down, left and right, taking sweeping passes closer and closer to my center. He’s not fast. I keep expecting him to be all impatience and forward motion, this beautiful, violent man whose default speed iskill the thing now.
But in bed, he is patient as a saint. It feels like hours before he finally goes to where I need him most, and even then, he nibbles and flicks his tongue around my outer lips for a long, long time.
When his tongue finally finds me proper, I jolt off the bed.
“Easy,” he murmurs against me. One big hand spreads out on my belly and pins me back down. “Stay.”
He licks a slow line up the middle of me, then another, then settles in like he’s got all afternoon. Maybe he does. We’re alone in here, after all, with a locked door between us and the world.
How many times can he make me his? How much can my body handle?
What about my heart?
The thought makes my hips twitch and his hand presses harder. “I said,Stay,” he snarls into my pussy.
His mouth closes over the spot that matters and he sucks, just once. I make a sound I’d be embarrassed by if I had the bandwidth for that. Since I don’t, it’s wanton and reckless.
He hums against me, pleased, and does it again.
“More,” I beg. “Please, please?—”
“Look at you. Asking so nicely. It almost makes me want to give you what you’re asking for.”
That’s the prelude to some agonizing edging if I’ve ever heard it. But he’s not as cruel as he pretends to be, because it’s only a few more minutes of teases before he gives me more.
His tongue works over my bud in tight little circles, then flat strokes, then back again. He reads every twitch of my thighs, every catch in my breath, and adjusts to bring me higher and higher.
“Now,” he orders against me when he can feel me convulsing my way to the edge. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”
I fall apart on his tongue with one hand fisted in his hair and the other clamped over my own mouth.
When I come back to myself, he’s resting his forehead against my hipbone, breathing through his nose, jaw clenched so hard that I keep waiting for his molars to crack like it’s ice on the windows we’re currently fogging up.
What is it about a man looking up at you from between your legs that’s so orgasm-inducing? I can’t imagine I look good from this angle. For him, I’m a sweaty, double-chinned wonder. But Matvei…
He’s a god. A blue-eyed demon, a tormentor, an angel, a perfection. His irises shine and his lips are bright with the traces of my desire. As I look down at him, thighs still trembling, that wicked tongue of his flickers out to claim a drop ofmethat’s clinging to the short stubble of his beard.
“I think I might die if you don’t fuck me right now,” I breathe.
Immediately, I flush with embarrassment. I’ve never been a dirty talker, but something about Mat makes me feel so feral. With him, there’s a way out of myself. A freedom from my own body. Or maybe deeperintomy own body, him granting me access to places I can’t reach on my own?
I don’t know. All I know is that I want more of it.
Grinning viciously, he climbs.
He’s still in his pants, which is criminal. The millisecond he’s close enough for me to reach, I claw at the buckle like it has personally offended me. He laughs and helps me. The rest of his clothes go off the side of the bed. Then he settles between my thighs, the bulk of him pressing me down into the mattress, and stops.
His face hovers above mine. The pupils are still huge. The jaw is still set. But his eyes—God, his eyes. They are looking at me like I am a thing he is trying to save in his head forever.
“I want you to listen to me,” he says as he kisses each temple in turn. “I’m not going to be gentle. With you, I can’t be.”
I gaze up at him and bite my lip.
“And I’m going to say things.” His hand slides into my hair, gathers it at the nape. “Things that I have wanted to say to you for a long time. Because I don’t know how to hold them back anymore.”
I nod meekly. “Okay.”
“I’ll put you back together again once we’re done. But first, my love… I’m going to tear you the fuck apart.”
