Page 38 of Savage Pakhan

“I want to taste you, remember?”

I don’t think I could ever forget.

He rubs my fingers across his lips, his eyes shutting as if he is experiencing pure ecstasy.

My mind comes to a complete halt. I’m transfixed. The way his tongue flicks out, wrapping it around my glistening digits.

“Fuck,” he groans before sucking them into his mouth to my knuckle.

My mouth becomes dry. My own tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as he licks me clean. His eyes are shut as if he’s savoring every second, every hint of flavor he can gather from my fingers. It doesn’t help my lust. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come but I’m still not sated.

I think the only one who can satisfy me is currently sitting on the edge of my bed when my fingers down his throat and a hard leaking cock that’s begging to be touched.

I want to. All I have to do is reach for him.

“Don’t,” he warns, freeing my fingers from the hot cavern of his mouth.

“Why? I want to. I want to feel what it’s like in my hand. Can I do that?”

He tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling. “You’re killing me, Mia. I’m hanging on by a thread. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now. For that. Not for anything else,” I admit with flaming cheeks and a bit of shame.

“It’s important to me that you tell the truth. Not just what I want to hear.” His palm hugs my jaw and that’s when it hits me, he’s always needing to be touching me. Most of the ways are innocent and full of care while him sucking on my fingers is pure sin that still has me throbbing between my thighs. “I am not him, Lyubimaya.”

I sit up and press my head into his touch, placing my hand on top of his to keep him there. “I know that, Alek. It’s why I want to touch you. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted to touch.”

He inhales a sharp breath, bringing my palm to his chest. “Do you feel what you do to me? What you do to my heart? Like a wild stampede of horses.”

I smile at the analogy. He’s right, though. His heart is racing.

“Only you do that to me.”

“Is that a yes, then? I can touch you?”

He nods, kissing my fingertips. “I’ve been dying for it. We go at your pace. You can always change your mind.”

“Okay,” I whisper, suddenly feeling very nervous.

My hands shake along with my breathing. I don’t know why I’m so scared. This is ridiculous. He’s treating me like a child, handling me gloves because of what I’ve been through, and the worst part is that I’m letting him because he’s right.

I have to go slow.

I have to find my own way there.

He drops his hands to the bed. “I’ll keep them here. Move at your pace. I might…” he chuckles. “I might come. This is by far the most intimate experience I’ve ever had and I’m on edge.”

“Intimate? We haven’t had sex,” I state, slightly confused.

“Intimacy isn’t just sex. What we have shared tonight is trust and that makes sex, when it happens, even better.”

Instead of grabbing him, I slip a barely there touch down the thick cock. He hisses and I pull back, but he grips my arm and shakes his head.

“Keep going. You feel so good. Don’t stop.”

“I thought I hurt you.”

“I’m sensitive. I’m close.”