“Come on, Anastasia. Be my good girl and tell me how you’d slip your fingers between your legs and press them to your clit until you came.”
The sound that came out of me was shocking, but not as much as the feeling of my inner muscles clenching, as if they were desperate for something substantial to grip on to.
“Admit you thought of me the whole time… every time you came.” He rocked against me. Back and forth. Back and forth.
I swore he was thicker, which seemed impossible since he already felt massive.
“You feel this?” He rolled his hips and I let out a startled gasp. “This is all for you.” He ran his teeth along the shell of my ear before gently biting the lobe. “You feel how hard I am?” He thrust his cock forward. “I’m so fucking hard for you.”
He moved his hand over my hip, down my belly, and stopped right below my navel. The shirt still covered me, stopping high on my thighs, but right now I felt so naked. I should tell him to stop. I really, really should.
“If I’m this hard, I wonder how wet you are for me.”
I bit my lip again, so hard I felt a flash of pain as the tender skin opened up.
“Did you know,” he murmured as he moved his hand lower… and lower still. He gripped the hem of my shirt and I, in return, curled my fingers into the blanket, using it as some kind of anchor. “That I’ve never thought of another female but you? Not once, sweetheart.”
He pulled the shirt up and my breath caught at the feel of his fingers skating along the top of my thighs, and at the heat in his words.
“Did you know, I’ve never kissed anyone, touched anyone… fucked anyone.”
Another moan left me.
“You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. You’re the only person I care about, the only part of my humanity that is left.”
He rolled his hips, pushing that massive length against my ass at the same time he shoved the shirt all the way up so the material rested right below my breasts.
“God,” he groaned. “I want to feel you, want to feel how hot and wet, how tight and mine you are.”
“Just because this feels good and I’m letting it happen doesn’t mean I think it’s anything more than that.” I let a soft sound of ecstasy leave me when he dug his fingers into the skin of my bare hip.
He jerked me back against that thick length between his thighs, his sweats doing nothing to form a barrier between us.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I whisper-moaned, as if trying to convince myself of that fact.
He ground his erection against my ass again, and I bit my lip hard enough I tasted the metallic tang of blood. He nipped at the side of my throat hard, and a gasp of pain spiked in me, which led to more pleasure.
“This means everything.” I heard his breath hitch. “No panties,” he said almost idly. “You’re fucking killing me, baby.”
God, my inner thighs were so slick when I moved them together they slid back and forth almost obscenely.
“My good girl. You please me so much it drives me fucking crazy.” He gripped my wrist, pried my fingers away from the blanket, and slowly moved our conjoined hands down between our bodies so my palm now covered that throbbing, hard cock.
His sweats seemed ultra-thin given the fact I swore I felt every hard, throbbing inch of him. I shamelessly curled my fingers around the girth, as much as I could. He grunted and pushed himself further into my hold.
“When I fell for you, the entire world cracked open from the impact.”
My heart was pounding so hard it hurt, his words so open and raw that I actually felt tears prick in the corners of my eyes.
“Let me touch you.”
I almost told him he was touching me, but I knew what he meant. Because it was what I wanted, too.
When I didn’t say anything, he must have taken that as consent—which it totally was—because I was pulled onto my back with Kostya hovering over me.
“Let me taste you.” He leaned in and nosed the hair away from my neck so he could lick and suck at the flesh, gently nibble on it until I found my hands on his shoulders… keeping him close.
When I didn’t answer, he pulled back to look down at me.
“Let me lick this little pussy,” he said with a deep, serenely heated voice.
I couldn’t speak, my throat was so tight, the air freezing in my lungs.
Kostya leaned in. Our lips were so close that I felt his warm, whiskey-scented breath. “I’m fucking starved for you.”
My breath hitched and I shook my head. “No, we shouldn’t do this.” Yes, God, yes we should.