His expression was dark and serious as he slowly moved down my body, pushing my shirt up my chest so my breasts were bared to the chilled air.
“You want me to do this, don’t you.” He didn’t phrase it like a question.
“I don’t.” The lie came easily to me.
“Liar,” he murmured.
While holding my gaze with his, he slid his palms over the tops of my thighs and down to my knees. He gently pulled my legs apart, and a soft gust of air left me.
His hands were hard and firm as he pressed them against my inner thighs, keeping me open, spread to his obscene, intent gaze.
“Ask for it,” he demanded.
“No.” God, it turned me on to defy him, probably as much as it aroused him to have me fight back.
This was a sick game, but one I didn’t want to stop.
One of his dark eyebrows cocked up and he finally broke eye contact to look at the most intimate part of me he exposed.
“Look at how bare you are.”
I closed my eyes as goose bumps formed along my arms and legs.
“I bet you like it waxed because you wear those little leotards. Isn’t that right, krasavitsa.”
I bit my lip to stop myself from answering him, from agreeing with him.
“I bet this tight, pretty little cunt gets ultra-sensitive when you play with it because there isn’t any hair.”
I couldn’t hold in the moan that spilled from me, and the sound that left him in response was one of approval.
Oh, God… the image those words conjured.
“Look at me.” His voice was hard and demanding and brooked no argument.
And when I did open my eyes, obeying him before I realized I was doing it, the expression on his face was positivity feral.
“I’m going to lick this little cunt, and you’re going to lie back and take it like a good girl.” His fingers dug into my flesh as if cementing his words. “You’re going to come for me because you want to please me, because you know your orgasm will make me feel good.”
He kept tightening his hands on my thighs so hard the pleasure and pain started to morph into one.
“Yes,” I whispered before I knew I was giving him exactly what he wanted, but right then and there I didn’t want to deny him. I wanted to feel good, to picture the man between my legs as the only person I’d ever truly loved. I could close my eyes and just envision another time, another place, where Kostya was that sweet, protective boy I once knew.
“Don’t you fucking close your eyes.”
I snapped them open and stared at him.
“You stay right here with me. You look at me and know who’s about to eat out your pussy, who’s about to ruin you for anyone else.”
With his gaze still locked on mine, I watched in shocked awe and embarrassed arousal as he spit on my pussy and buried his face between my thighs before another word could be uttered.
He licked and sucked at me, ate me out until all I could do was grip the sheets beside me and hold on.
“Come on, be my good girl.”
My heart raced at his words. They were strange and foreign to me, never something I thought would turn me on, but here I was… getting wetter because of those words.
“So sweet.” His voice was muffled against my soaked flesh. He pulled back enough that a string of saliva still connected us.
While still holding my gaze, he spit on my pussy again. Then faster than I could anticipate, Kostya lifted his hand and slapped me between my legs.
My back arched on its own, my nipples tightened, and the cry that left me was part pain, part pleasure. I was close, so close to climaxing, and I knew it would blow all the other orgasms I’d given myself out of the water.
“Look at how sloppy wet your cunt is for me.” He went back to sucking on my clit but stopped right before I went over the edge.
I felt him tease my opening, gently probing without actually penetrating.
“I can tell how tight you are. You’ve never had a man in you, have you?” He gave my pussy a long lick, then flicked his tongue over my clit. “I know you haven’t because anytime I saw a fucker showing interest, I made sure they never spoke to you again.”
His words were fuzzy in my head, and I thought back to the few platonic “dates” I’d had in the past, ones that I never pursued, but then again the guys never reached out to see me again either.
Now I know why.
“You’re crazy—”
“—for you, Anastasia. I’m fucking crazy for you.”
He buried his face in my pussy again, licking, lapping up my arousal that spilled from my opening and slipped down the crease of my ass.