Page 25 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

He bites down on my earlobe, sharp enough to sting, soft enough to make me gasp. Then slowly drags the zipper of my dress down. The sound is loud in the quiet room. His fingers graze my spine as the fabric parts, sending fire racing across my skin.

He pushes the straps off my shoulders with agonizing patience. The dress slides down my arms, over my hips, and pools at my feet in a green heap.

I step out of it on shaky legs, and he spins me back to face him.

I’m left in the soft pink lace bra and matching panties Tasha had also forced me into at the lingerie shop. Thank God for her insistence, and for the wax appointment. Does he like what he sees? Are my boobs too big?

Leonid’s eyes rake over me. “Get out of your head,” he says quietly. “If we’re doing this, you need to be here. With me.”

I nod again, swallowing hard.

He brushes a strand of hair from my face, thumb lingering on my cheekbone. “Beautiful.”

The word lands soft, reverent.

Then his hand slides to my throat, not tight, just firm enough to feel the press of his palm against my pulse. He tilts my head back and kisses me again, deeper this time, tongue stroking slow and filthy.

The slight choke of his grip heightens everything. I moan into his mouth, helpless, fingers clutching his shoulders.

He pulls back just enough to look at me. His gaze travels down my body, lingering on my breasts, my stomach, the damp spot already darkening the lace between my thighs.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs again. The way he’s looking at me, like I’m something precious and filthy at the same time, makes me feel seen in a way I never have.

He kisses me once more, hungry, while his fingers find the clasp of my bra. One flick and it falls away. Cool air hits my nipples, then his mouth, hot, wet, closing over one peak. He sucks hard, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to make me cry out.

My head falls back against the wall. He switches to the other breast, hand kneading the first, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger until I’m trembling.

Then he starts kissing lower. Down my sternum, my ribs, my stomach. When he reaches the lace edge of my panties, he drops to his knees.

He inhales deeply, his nose brushing the damp fabric and his eyes closing for a second as if he’s savoring me. One big hand cups me through the lace; I buck against his palm, a broken sound escaping my throat.

“So fucking wet already,” he growls, voice thick.

He cups me again, firmer, then hooks his fingers in the sides of my panties and drags them down my legs. I step out, naked now, completely exposed.

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, eyes devouring me.

His fingers trace my entrance, slow, teasing, coating themselves in my wetness. He spreads it along my folds, circling my clit once, twice. I whimper, hips jerking.

“I have to taste you,” he says, almost to himself.

One hand slides behind me, palming my ass, holding me steady. The other lifts my left leg, drapes it over his shoulder. Then his mouth is on me.

He licks a long, slow stripe from my entrance to my clit, groaning against me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. His tongue circles my clit, flicking and sucking, while two fingers slide inside me, curling just right. I cry out, hands fisting in his hair, hips rocking against his face without shame.

“Leonid…please….”

He eats me like he’s starving, deep, hungry licks, sucking my clit hard enough to make stars burst behind my eyelids, fingers pumping in a slow rhythm that matches his tongue. The hand on my ass squeezes, pulling me tighter against his mouth.

I’m shaking. Gasping. So close already. “OH GOD!”

“Leonid—” His name is both a plea and a prayer.

He growls against me, vibrations shooting straight through my core.

I throw my head back, the wall cool against my skull as I brace myself on Leonid’s broad shoulders, rocking against his face instinctively, hips chasing the pressure, the heat, the wet slide of his mouth.

I’ve never orgasmed via oral before. My ex tried this a few times—awkward, fumbling attempts that always ended with him pulling away, frustrated, and blaming me for “not liking it.”