Pursing his lips, he blows hot air on my bare pussy. I tremble. My fingers clench into fists, but I don’t move my hands. I’m determined to obey him. Determined to earn his approval and if I’m lucky, the coveted title: good girl.
Again, he blows, and again, I tremble. His eyes come to mine as he lowers his mouth. He wants me to watch him lick me. I feel shy and reserved and excited all at once. I nod.
The first lazy drag of his tongue makes me moan in uncensored bliss. Oh, Jesus, oh fucking hell, I’ve been dying for release and this both grants and denies it, because every swipe of his tongue brings both bliss and the desire for more. God, more.
His eyes on mine, he suckles, pulling my clit fully into his mouth, My eyes flutter shut and I’m losing myself to sensation. He works me soft then hard, his fingers probing my core and gently pumping in and out. I’m pressing myself to his face, unabashedly begging for more of his tongue. He’s chucking into my pussy, the hot vibration making me clench with need. On and on he licks and suckles until I hit a crescendo I didn’t know existed. I’m dying and soaring under his tongue, spasms of pleasure rippling through me like white-foamed rapids, powerful and all-consuming. I’m moaning and whimpering, dying to speak or move but succumbing to his commands. I climax until I can’t breathe anymore, until my body is wrung out with pleasure, and when I finally fall back to earth, his cock is at my center.
Gentle at first. Parting me. He guides his cock through my wetness, but doesn’t plunge himself in. He’s shaking with the effort of controlling himself, and I want to reach for him and impale myself on his cock. My core tightens and contracts with the need to be filled by him, but it has to be on his terms.
It will hurt. His eyes meet mine in anticipation and apology. He’s done what he can, making me climax before he takes me. I can feel my slickness between my thighs, and I know it should help. I’ve heard it does, anyway.
He shakes as he lowers himself to me, our chests connecting skin to skin, before he pushes the tip of his cock inside me. I brace. He’s only just begun, and he’s so big. He holds himself over me, then brings his mouth to my cheek and brushes a kiss there, before he glides a little deeper inside.
My hands encircle his neck.
I trust you.
He holds me back and pushes himself in me.
He’s stretching me until I’m so full it hurts. He pulses in me, but holds himself back, slowly building a rhythm of pleasure and pain, my too-tight skin yielding to him. The friction stings, but when he moves his hips I lift my pelvis for more. I longed to have him in me. I thought it would feel incredible. I wasn’t wrong.
He’s laid me bare and now he claims me as his. In and out, harder and faster, then gentler still, he works me closer to another climax as he groans in my hear. Aw, fuck. He enjoys this as much as I do, and I want to give it all to him. Every damn last bit of what little remains of my innocence.
I expected I’d feel when he broke my barrier. I expected a gush of blood and stained sheets. But he’s eased himself in me so carefully, my only feeling is of utter completion, like we belong fitted together like this. I anchor myself to his neck as he pumps in and out, so full, so perfect. I’m building again, so close to another climax, when he groans and jerks in me. I hold onto him so tightly but it isn’t close enough, as I fall off the edge into utter ecstasy. I cry out when spasms wrack my body. He’s kissing me and holding me and right then, everything is utter perfection. Our sweat-soaked skin and heated bodies, joined in ultimate surrender.
We’re panting when he drops his forehead to my chest. I rest my hands on the wide expanse of his back, holding him as he holds me. I breathe in and out, and he does, too. Perfect moments come swiftly and leave in a heartbeat. We ride this one out until our pulses slow. With a sigh, he pulls out of me, rolls to his side, then yanks me up onto his chest. It’s messy and sweaty, our juices mingling in tangled sheets, my hair a wild mess. But it’s everything.
He plays with a tendril of my hair, wrapping it around his finger.
“Zvezda moya,” he says. “My shining star.”
I smile. I like that.
After a moment he grows contemplative. “You could get pregnant,” he says.