Billie and the Russian Beast - 50 Loving States, South Carolina - Quarantales - Page 10

I drop my hands, but everything inside me protests. It felt so good, and I’m so close. And as for not coming… “I’m not sure…I’m not sure I can—”

“You can, and you will. Calm yourself, close your eyes, let me guide you.”

I do as he says and experience the sensation of him pulling me closer. His arm bands around me pressing me so tight to his body, I can’t move.

And then he…

I’m not sure how to describe it. It’s like he flips a mute button inside of me, reducing my world to nothing but the sensation of him pumping in and out of me as he holds me tight.

There is nothing but him in this dark. And the only sound is his voice saying, “Hold…hold….”

Hold.

Just one word, but it makes me feel like crying. I’m so close. The cord is so tight. I don’t see how I can possibly hold on.

He’s having a hard time holding on too, I guess. His pumps go from precise and slow to fast and sloppy. Faster and faster until suddenly he says, “Now! Come now.”

It’s like my body was merely waiting for the command. The knot suddenly unbinds, and everything inside of me loosens as my climax unleashes.

I moan and claw at his back, trying to grab on to something, so I don’t lose myself.

I’m not sure if it works. For either minutes or hours—I can’t be certain—I’m trapped underneath an ocean of sensation, unable to breathe. Or speak. Or think.

There’s nothing. Nothing but pleasure until I hear a voice, saying, “Come back to me, krasotka. Open your eyes.”

I do as commanded and find him smiling at me.

“That was good, nyet?”

I nod, still unable to speak. And his thumbs do that circle thing on my hips.

“We will have much fun over these five days. By the time we are done, it will be worth the three-hundred thousand.”

That’s a crazy thing to say. I think about arguing with him. But I can’t speak. Can’t think.

Can’t even move. I find that out when he lifts me and places me beside him on the couch.

He stands and carefully removes the condom before depositing it in a black waste basket underneath the table. “I had good feeling from first moment I saw you. Good feeling that it would be like this…”

He trails off, frowning down at the chessboard and moves one of the black pawns forward and to the left.

I find out I’ve recovered my voice when I ask him, “Who are you playing?”

“Myself,” he answers.

Then he scoops me up in his arms and carries me to bed.

Chapter Six

I dream of nothing and wake that morning in a super soft bed.

No, not morning, afternoon my internal clock tells me as I stretch and turn over with a huge yawn—

I freeze mid-stretch when I see the Russian lying across from me, his body large and rippled with muscle. And the urge to yawn is replaced by scalding hot embarrassment as memories of what went down earlier in the morning come rushing back to me.

Who was that girl who whined and moaned before coming on a Russian stranger’s dick? It couldn’t have been me.

Could it have?

He must have put something in my drink, I think, sitting up in bed.

But then I remember that I hadn’t touched that drink he made me.

So it was something else. Something inside of me.

Something I hadn’t known was there before.

Until he brought it out.

I had good feeling from first moment I saw you. Good feeling that it would be like this….

Face burning, I rush to the bathroom. Or at least I try to rush. Cheslav’s cock was no joke. And like I said, it’s been a while. So it’s more like a mincing rush with the chorus of Arianna Grande’s “Side to Side” stuck on a loop inside my head.

After I use the toilet, I catch sight of myself in the long rectangular mirror over the double sink. Oh my God, is that me?

I look…different. My sisterlocks came unraveled from the two braids somewhere along the way. and now my hair is a tangled mess. Also, my lips are swollen. Like somebody punched me.

Or kissed me.

I trace the plump pillows as another memory unfurls. The sun had fully risen by the time he laid me down in bed. And I thought that would be that.

But then he’d stroked the sisterlocks out of my face and kissed me. Hard and possessive. Like he was the beast, and I was his claim.

Another condom got pulled out of the nightstand. And before I knew it, my legs were around his waist, and he was inside me again. Hips rolling as he mauled my lips. I wouldn’t have thought it possible to come again so soon after what happened on the couch. But I did.

When he commanded, “Come. Come now for me, my pet,” I did exactly what he asked. Falling apart as he fucked me with relentless strokes.

Tags: Theodora Taylor Romance
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