The Russian's Christmas Present - Page 21

My balls pulse and ache and my erection feels like it’s going to rip right through the fabric keeping us from what we want more than anything in the world.

She gasps as I bite harder, a shuddering whimper following as I bring my face back up, my hands full of her soft, ripe flesh as her eyelashes flutter.

“That hurts,” she sings, then gives me that injured look on her killer sexy pout.

I lower my mouth to hers, taking her bottom lip between my teeth, pulling out until she’s doing this little foot-stomping ouchie dance as she chants, “ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…”

I release her lip, pinching it between my thumb and forefinger this time on a growl. “No pouting.”

Her eyes search mine. “Sorry,” she whispers.

“It’s okay. This time. Next time, those red stripes on your panties just may be red stripes on your ass.”

Her eyes flicker to life and I realize I’ve never had that inclination before. Never have I thought of taking my hand to an ass, maybe the swipe of a belt with her laying over my lap.

The image has my gut tight and my balls ready to heave, so for now I push it away because I’m greedy for more of her, and to my fucking delight, apparently she is for me as well.

She drops her hand to where mine is still holding her lip, and at her touch I release. Her eyes soften again as she pushes my hand lower.

“Touch me.” Her cheeks ripen as red as the dress that lays in a mess at her feet.

“I’m going to touch you, Snowflake. With my fingers, my mouth and my thick cock.”

Her chest rises on a deep breath as I drop my hand from hers, slipping it inside the lacy elastic just below her hips, and she adjusts her legs to give me better access.

“Jesus, Bria.” I close my eyes on a groan as my fingers slip between soaking, silky folds. She’s my heaven and her wet softness already owns me in ways she could never understand.

She moans as my fingers find her hard, little clit, and I go to town flicking and circling until her arms are around my neck and she’s hanging there like my own personal Christmas ornament.

“You’re fucking soaking wet for me. You are a naughty girl, aren’t you? So wet for me.” She whimpers in reply as I glide my palm back and forth, coating it with her slick nectar.

I press the heel of my hand against her clit and grind down as my middle finger finds her opening and slips upward.

Tight.

So fucking tight.

Like no one’s ever been here before.

Thank you, baby Jesus, for what I think is going to be the greatest gift I’ve ever received.

I look down to where her nipples are pressed against my suit jacket, and all I want is her naked against me. My dick taking what’s mine and teaching her sweet little cunt who it’s going to serve for the rest of its life.

“Anyone ever touched you before?” I manage, my jaw muscles so tight I’m cracking my molars.

She shakes her head and all my wishes come true.

“No one.”

She’s my own Christmas virgin.

Virgin Bria.

Only, the conception I’m going to give her won’t be done by the holy spirit.

It will be from my holy cock. Which she will worship with her mouth, pussy, hands, tits, and soon, her ass.

I pulse my finger at her tight virgin hole, careful to save her innocence for my cock. She’s moaning and grinding like a needy, dirty girl, and I drop my face down to her nipple, suckling hard and deep with one hand in her drenched pussy as I reach around and grab her ass with the other.

She pulls my head forward as I draw deep and hard on the peak while my other hand toys with her innocent little opening.

She’s heaving and gasping when I bring my face up, her eyes half-lidded with lust and my palm soaked with her arousal.

“What do you want to ask Santa for?” I growl as her eyes glaze over and my hand works down below. “An orgasm? Is that what you’d like for Christmas? Or, an orgasm and my big thick cock in this tight little hole?”

I shift back, putting some space between us as I look down to watch my hand work inside her panties. I finger her clit again and give it a little pinch.

“Answer me,” I command, my voice hard and thick, with a need for her compliance growing like a beast inside of me.

“Yes. Both.” Her head falls back. “God, Martel. That feels so good.”

“I know it does. Your pleasure is a gift. To you and to me. But, I’ll be the one to give it to you. When I want, how I want, for as long as I want. Do you understand, little girl?”

Tags: Dani Wyatt Erotic
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