Chapter 33
Eric
Emotions surge high, but my mind has never been clearer or more certain of anything. “Please,” I beg, my heart pounding hard enough to echo in my ears. “I need you.”
Dmitri’s dark eyes meet mine with that serene smile as he positions himself between my knees. He leans in, guiding my thighs toward my chest. It blurs every line we once drew between us until there is only heat, only the press of his body over mine.
Only us.
There are no second thoughts, only the deep relief of rightness settling into place and the quiet certainty of belonging.
His skin feels warm and welcome against me as the soft snick of the lube bottle breaks the hush, followed by the cool, slick glide of his fingers against my overheated flesh.
“Eyes on me,” he commands, voice low and steady while the head of his cock presses gently at my rim. “Bear down for me, baby. We’ll start slow.”
My breathing quickens with nerves, and his gaze drifts to the rapid rise of my chest and the frantic pulse at my throat before returning to hold mine. Of course he notices.
“Eric,” he rasps as he presses forward, easing in with careful pressure. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper, the words slipping out so easily they surprise me. “I love… ohholyfuck,” I gasp as he finally slips inside.
The stretch hits in a sharp burn. I’m not naive enough to believe my first time would feel like some instant paradise, but damn, this stings more than I braced for.
My breath turns ragged, coming in short, uneven pulls as my wide eyes lock on his.
He’s watching me with that steady focus, reading every flicker across my face.
His fingertips begin tracing lazy, random patterns along the insides of my thighs.
The light tickle pulls my attention away from the worst of the burn and grounds me in the warmth of his hands instead.
“Shh,” he soothes, voice low and velvet-soft. “Relax, baby. Trust me, okay?”
I draw in a deeper breath, chest rising high as I force my body to unclench until the sharp edge dulls into something bearable.
“That’s it,” Dmitri praises, his palms still gliding over my skin in slow, reassuring strokes. “You’re doing so good. Are you ready for more?”
“Yes,” I whisper, and he pushes forward, inching inside with careful, measured pressure.
Each slow advance brings a fresh sharp sting as he rocks gently in and out, but it eases as he gives my body time to adjust. The pain had softened me earlier, but the heat slowly sparks back to life, and he watches with dark, hungry eyes as I thicken again under his gaze.
“Almost there,” he mutters, voice rough and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. With one last deliberate roll of his hips, he buries himself fully, deep enough that I feel every inch settle inside me.
“God,” I groan, my whole body pulsing and nerves humming around the sudden fullness as I try to catch my breath.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah… yeah, I am. But Dmitri?”
Concern flickers across his face as he searches mine. “Yeah, baby?”
“I’m going to need you to move now,” I say.
His smile shifts, turning indecent and knowing as he slowly pulls his hips back.
My moan comes low and drawn-out as he slides back in, still keeping that infuriatingly patient pace.
He repeats the motion several times, pulling out almost to the tip before rocking smoothly forward again.
He moves with predatory grace while his eyes never leave my face.
“Look how good you’re taking my cock,” he praises. His pace quickens and the initial discomfort gradually ebbs. The sting gives way to bright sparks while the burn transforms into a deeper, spreading fire that licks through my groin and radiates along my limbs in warm waves.
“Talk to me,” Dmitri says, voice rough around the edges. “How are you doing?”
“Good… great.” I reach between us, fingers forming a V to surround the base of his cock, feeling the slick slide of him entering me again and again. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”
“You like that? Feeling where I’m inside you?” Dmitri’s cheeks flush deeper, his body trembling.
“Dmitri, I need something from you.”
He pauses, leaning forward until the new angle presses him even deeper. “Anything, baby.”
My hand slides into his hair, fingers curling tight as I yank him closer, our faces inches apart. “Stop acting like I’m going to break, and fuck me.”
His eyes darken instantly, lip curling into a possessive snarl as he withdraws almost fully and thrusts back in—harder and deeper than before.
“Oh!” I shout, voice echoing sharp through the room. “Oh shit, just like that.”
He does it again, the force rocking me deeper into the mattress as my fingers twist hard into the sheets. My body loosens beneath him, turning pliant and open, surrendering inch by inch until I’m drowning in the heat of his skin.
Soft moans spill from his lips and brush my ear, low and ragged… the kind of sound I’d trade my last breath to hear on repeat.
His restraint slips as his fingertips dig into my thighs and his rhythm quickens, hips driving with growing urgency.
The room fills with sex—our sweat-slick bodies carrying the sharp, intimate scent of it, the wet slap of skin meeting skin every time he slides deep inside me.
Tension coils in the air like a living thing, pressing against us until it feels like the molecules themselves are vibrating.
Nothing has ever felt this good.
The delicious pressure builds low in my core as he leans forward, crashing his lips to mine in a messy, uncoordinated kiss. It's nothing more than open mouths panting hot against each other, nipping teeth and claiming tongues.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he gasps against my lips as his hips jerk in quick, shallow bursts. He lifts onto his knees and grips my cock, and my mouth drops open in a silent moan as he strokes me in time with his thrusts. It’s an endless stream of pure, raw pleasure that I wish never had to end.
From this day on, I want to live with him inside me—under my skin, in my very blood.
Every fiber of me pulls in opposite directions, caught between wanting this to stretch on forever and the desperate need to let go completely. His thrusts deepen, and each one lands with enough force that my head snaps back against the pillow.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” I moan, voice cracking as my throat tightens. “I can’t… fuck, I can’t hold back. I’m going to come.”
He answers with a quick flick of his wrist around my cock, and my hands fly to the pillow beneath my head, fingers digging in hard and grasping for an anchor while the last threads of control fray away.
“Don’t hold back,” he gasps, voice jolted by the rhythm of his hips driving into me. “Give me everything, baby. Come for me.”
He shifts his angle just enough to drag against my prostate, and his grip tightens as he strokes faster. My whole body locks, and my muscles tense in waves until the pressure borders on unbearable.
“Right there,” I whine, “right fucking there. Don’t stop, baby, please don't stop.” My body folds in on itself, building pressure until my back bows sharply off the mattress. “Oh shit, harder… go harder. Fuck… fuck!”
Release snaps into me like the crack of a whip, cutting deep and tearing me apart in the best way, and the cry that rips free strains my throat raw.
My cock jerks in his fist, sending hot ropes of cum arcing across my stomach in messy bursts.
Broken nonsense pours from my mouth—half-words, gasps, and moans—as the pleasure tears through me, wave after wave.
Dmitri loses every trace of control. He covers me completely, breath hot against my face as a rough moan escapes him.
His hips drive forward in desperate, uneven punches until his hips lock.
Warmth floods my hole as he comes with a shuddering gasp, then his hips snap in a series of shallow thrusts.
Slick heat seeps out around him, overflowing and trailing slow paths down my skin.
Even after he comes to a halt, soft aftershocks flicker in my muscles. We’re both drained, with nothing left to give or take. He collapses on top of me, and our hearts pound in tandem. After a few minutes, a wheezing chuckle leaves me, bouncing him with the rise of my lungs.
“Are you alive?” I whisper, kissing his forehead.
His cheeks lift in a smile as he rests his chin on my chest. “Debatable. Might’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“You saying my ass is heaven?”
He groans with a quiet snort. “I’m too fucked out for a witty comeback right now, so I’ll just let you have this one. Yeah, baby, your ass is heaven.”
We both grunt as he shifts his hips to pull out of me, and his release slides out in a warm rush. When he flops onto the bed beside me, I roll to my side so we’re facing each other. His smile turns soft again as he pushes a few stray hairs off my forehead.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”
A sleepy smile spreads across my face as I drop a kiss on his lips. “That was, without a doubt, the most mind-blowing sex I’ve ever had. You are fucking incredible, you know that?”
“You might be sore tomorrow,” he warns, fingertips gliding up my back and causing a ticklish shiver to work its way up my spine. “And also, I’m pretty sure the entire house heard us.”
“Fuck,” I groan, covering my eyes with my hands. “I guess I got a little loud, huh?”
“Definitely more than a little,” he says with a deep chuckle. “Who knew Eric Woodard was a screamer?”
My mouth drops open. “I did not scream.” He responds with an annoying, noncommittal hum, and I shove his shoulder. “I didn’t!”
“That wasn't what I heard.”
“Oh?” I deadpan. “And what did you hear?”
He flashes me an impish grin. “Pretty sure it was something like, 'Oh, daddy, give me your big fat dick.'”
“Oh, fuck you!” I laugh as I push him onto his back, straddling him and pinning him to the bed.
“Yeah, maybe you're right. You might've said, 'Split me in half with your monster cock!'”
I wrestle him down to the mattress and attack the ticklish strips along his ribs until he’s thrashing and laughing so hard he can barely breathe.
“St-stop!” he gasps out, the word dissolving into another helpless howl.
When I finally relent, we’re staring at each other with matching dopey grins, chests heaving.
His hair sticks up in every direction from my hands earlier, cheeks glowing red, and that smile—bright, unguarded, and stupidly happy—makes him look like sex and joy collided in the best possible accident.
It’s a lethal mix.
The kind of dangerous that whispers I’d burn the world for you without hesitation. The I’ll-grab-the-shovel-and-ask-no-questions loyalty that settles deep in my gut and refuses to leave.
“Are you done being a brat yet?” I ask with a grin I can’t shake.
“Probably not.”
“At least you’re finally owning up to it,” I tease, dipping down to take his lips in a messy, passionate kiss that quickly turns desperate. My hips grind against him on their own, chasing the heat and friction like they never learned restraint.
“Careful,” he murmurs against my mouth, glancing down at the drying cum on my stomach and the press of my cock against his skin. “Keep acting like that and I’ll find a second wind.”
Was that supposed to be a threat? Because all I hear is promise.