Chapter 13 Dahlia #2
I moan my response, and the vibrations trigger his release. He erupts, a mountain trembling from a tectonic shift.
The sight is awe-inducing. His stoic face relaxes, clear of all burdens, and features drawn in awe. I can’t stop staring, wanting to memorize him just like this—a god coming undone.
Tugging my head back, he releases me, and I try to catch my breath.
I don’t know how long I stay on my knees for him as we watch each other, needing a moment to recover.
He drags me by my wrist, flush to his chest, one hand going to my ass. Lifting me off the blanket, he crushes his mouth on mine. He devours my lips, kissing me some more. Good that he’s holding me because I could sprout wings and fly toward the ether.
“Was it good?” I ask when the kiss ends, suddenly self-conscious.
He rests his forehead on mine, chuckling. “Good? That was fucking magnificent. Realigned my life’s priorities.”
I giggle, slapping his chest. I love our playfulness, and him infusing me with so much confidence; every doubt vanishes.
“Fuck. I haven’t come in years. I’m sure even if I forget everything, I won’t forget coming down your throat.”
I barely hear the second part because the first one rings in my ears, playing on repeat.
While I knew there was no one else, I thought that at least he took care of himself.
I don’t have to ask why. I know the answer. He was punishing himself for thinking he took something from me. My virginity was always meant for him, but he’s so damn stubborn.
I don’t want to ruin this precious moment, so I force a smile. “Do you think you still know how to do it?”
He slaps my ass, eliciting a yelp out of me as he lowers me onto my back, the blanket cushioning the hard earth.
His cock juts between us like a damn impaling device. With a minimal recovery period, I know my poor pussy will get beaten up.
Bring it on.
“I haven’t forgotten, you brat. I’ll make you eat your words, baby girl.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I grin.
His eyes shine with unadulterated adoration, making me want to freeze time to be with him forever—trapped in this moment full of intimacy, playful and passionate.
Gripping his cock, he brings it to my entrance.
I suck in a breath as he rasps above my lips. “I’ll go slow. I would sooner kill myself than hurt you again.”
I cup his face, erasing every inch between us, to connect on every level possible—physically and emotionally. “Not again. You never hurt me. I trust you with my life. No one more than you.”
His eyes glisten, emotions clear. It makes this moment feel ethereal, as if God himself gifted it to us. He must love his sinners.
“Kiss me,” he demands.
I close the small gap between us just in time for him to slip the head inside of me. I find out why he wanted me to kiss him at this exact moment. To catch my shaky breath, capture my moan as he conquers my insides.
He’s so freaking big, I squirm not knowing if I want him completely in or out.
“Shhh, I’m not even halfway in. Be my good girl and let me in.”
Damn, it feels like he’s trying to shove a damn baton inside my pussy.
How did I take him back then?
As if he can read my mind, he grips my chin, his eyes boring into mine.
“You can and will. Every inch, baby girl. I won’t stop until I bury my cock in your pussy that strangles the fucking life out of me.”
“Good,” I murmur through the pressure. No wonder sweat beads on my temples.
“You enjoy my misery, huh?” he says through a set jaw.
“You’re trying to break my pussy with your monster cock.” I pant as he slips another inch. “We’re even.”
He shakes his head and chuckles. “That damn mouth of yours.”
“What is it with it?” I ask, the conversation helping to distract me for a bit as a freaking python tries to slip inside of me.
The intrusion tears me apart in the best way. I know it’s not physically possible for him not to end, but it sure feels like it. My fingers claw at his arms to ease the pressure.
He thrusts forward one inch then retreats, pushing me in two different directions that madden me. Pleasure every time his cock massages my walls and discomfort when he inches deeper.
“It drives me crazy how fucking tight you are,” he grits out.
He’s losing control. It’s in his shoulders tensing, his eyes burning with savage lust.
“Please…” I need him inside of me. All of him, even if he splits me apart.
My pleas shatter his control, and he drives into me with one hard thrust that lifts me off the ground. I lock my arms and legs around him, chest rocking with shaky breaths.
My vision turns blurry. Did he wreck my cervix and enter my uterus because it sure feels like it.
I squeeze my eyes shut as he kisses my mouth, peppering sweet kisses all over my face.
“I’m in. And fuck, baby girl, you feel so damn good,” he says hoarsely.
Oh, I am well aware. I feel him everywhere.
“How bad is it?” he asks, gripping my chin to look at him.
“I feel so full.” It’s more of a discomfort than pain, my brain not knowing where to place the stretch, if it’s pleasurable or not. I guess it’s both, but strangely, I like it.
It doesn’t take long before pleasure overshadows the pressure. Shy at first, then taking front stage, it blinds me to anything else. The moan escaping my mouth answers for me.
He moves inside of me, switching between slow and sensual thrusts that consume me—body and mind. He never stops kissing me, intoxicating me. I never stop touching him. Exploring and falling together.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says before he switches to Russian, whispering, “Ty vso: moya zhizn’, moy smysl, moya tsel’.”
You’re everything—my life, my meaning, my purpose.
I am too far gone in pleasure to ask him to confess his feelings for me. As he makes love to me, I feel so much, am so full—physically and emotionally that tears gather in my eyes.
He kisses them gently away. “Ty—luchsheye dlya moyego serdtsa, devochka. Krov’ v moikh zhilakh, moya zhizn’. Moyo vso,” he continues in Russian, the deep, husky voice even more alluring in his native tongue.
You’re the beat of my heart, baby girl. The blood in my veins. My life. My everything.
His declaration plays on repeat, echoing in my chest. My heart spills through the four chambers, overflowing with a love so deep it floods my soul.
I thought I was already his, but this feels like so much more. How will I let him go? All I wish for is his love. How will it be physically possible to stay away from him?
“All mine. Just fucking mine,” he groans low, burying himself so deep inside of me, he rearranges my insides to fit him.
I palm his chest, feeling his heart beating an unruly rhythm, just like mine.
“Yours. Have never belonged and never will belong to anyone other than you.” I kiss him, pouring everything into the kiss as if wanting to gift him my very soul.
It’s too much—the emotional connection, the physical joining. I let go, trusting he will be there to catch me.
I come with his name on my lips, and he drinks my sounds of pleasure greedily.
Spent, I fall back and watch him take the pleasure he needs from my body, his rhythm changing to frantic. Fucking me in short rapid thrusts, he reaches so deep inside of me, I think he’s stuck in there.
But damn, when he comes, it’s the most magnificent sight I have ever witnessed. His impressive torso constricts, and he throws his head back. A sound of half groan, half growl rumbles in his chest as he fills me up.
It feels like, under the moonlight, we sealed our fate—becoming one.
“Fuck, that was…” He’s at a loss for words for the first time, which makes me giddy.
Pulling gently out of me, I hiss, my legs trembling. But I love my body’s state in the aftermath. It means I could not have dreamed it.
My pussy pulses, pushing out our mixed release.
He stares entranced. “Look at this beautiful, pink and swollen pussy.”
He gathers the cum and pushes it back inside while I still feel him inside of me. I don’t think I can move.
Falling next to me, he wraps his warm, muscular body around me—my personal furnace and steely cocoon. I am safe. I am protected. Nothing bad could touch me.
My lids grow heavy, but he softly taps my nose. “Let’s get my girl to bed.”
I groan low in my throat, and he cuddles me some more before he dresses me. And he wonders how I ended up being spoiled? It’s because of him. The grump loves to take care of me.
Then he gathers me in his arms, places me in the passenger seat, and fastens my seatbelt.
“Can I drive?” I grin.
He casts a pointed look. “No.”
I lift my palms up to my chest, arching a brow. “Like now or never? You’re sending mixed signals with your noes.”
He shakes his head at me, chuckling under his breath. Well, he didn’t confirm or deny.
I flip my hair back, grinning at him. “I always get what I want.”
“Don’t I know it.”
A blow sucker punches my heart. I won’t get what I wish most, and everything else fades in comparison.
I focus on the fact that for now I surely have.
For a little while…