Page 5 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

The sensation is overwhelming. His tongue circles and flicks, his teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp. My hands find his hair, threading through the blond strands. He gives equal attention to both breasts, and by the time he pulls back, I'm trembling.

"Your turn," he says with a grin that's pure sin. He pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, and I forget how to breathe.

His body is a work of art. Broad shoulders taper to a narrow waist, every muscle defined and powerful.

His chest is dusted with light hair, and I can see the edge of a tattoo peeking from his left shoulder.

There's a scar along his ribs, another on his abdomen, marks of a life I can't even imagine.

But right now, all I can think about is touching him.

I reach out tentatively, my fingers tracing the lines of his abs.

His skin is warm, the muscles jumping beneath my touch.

He watches me explore, his breathing getting heavier as my hands move across his chest, his shoulders, down his arms.

"You're beautiful," I whisper, and he laughs, the sound low and rough.

"That's my line, sweetheart." He catches my hands and brings them to his belt. "Help me out here."

My fingers fumble with the buckle, clumsy with nerves and desire.

He covers my hands with his, guiding me, and together we get his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned.

He shoves them down along with his boxer briefs, and then he's completely naked in front of me.

Oh. Oh.

He's big, thick, and hard, and I can't stop staring. Heat floods my face, and Russ chuckles.

"Like what you see?" There's humor in his voice, teasing but not mean.

"I, um." I swallow hard. "You're really..."

"Big?" He grins.

I glance up at him, see the teasing in his eyes, and smile.

He's teasing me, but he really is big.

And thick. And hard.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties and slowly pulls them down, his knuckles dragging against my skin.

When I'm finally naked, he guides me back onto the bed, following me down.

The weight of him pressing me into the mattress feels right, perfect, like this is exactly where I'm supposed to be.

His mouth finds mine again as his hand slides between my thighs.

When his fingers brush against my center, I nearly come off the bed.

I'm already wet, embarrassingly so, but Russ makes an approving sound.

"So fucking wet for me," he murmurs against my neck. "Do you have any idea how hot that is?"

I don't answer. I'm not even sure I could if I tried. My mouth has suddenly gone dry and my tongue feels like it's swelled to twice its size.