31. Kirill
Kirill
Even before eighteen-year-old Sandrine let me touch her, I knew I didn’t deserve her. She was a sweet, innocent young woman and I took her anyway. It was very consensual. But I haven’t done anything to deserve her on her knees with my cock in her mouth since she’s been home.
Other than being a good father to our daughter. Christ, I can’t think about that right now.
I can’t believe I got a second chance. I never stopped wanting her. I want her on her knees for me every single day for the rest of my fucking life.
Watching her lips slide up and down my cock, the wetness from her mouth, the amount of precum I’m dripping means this is going to end way too soon. I’ve taken care of myself for five years. My body has needs, but my heart hurt too much because all I could think about was her.
She was out there somewhere. To fantasize about another woman was a betrayal. Now she’s back. In my house, on her knees, sucking me off.
“Fuck, that’s so good. You’re goddamn perfect.”
The attraction that blazed between us years ago ignited again, and now there’s no stopping it. If we have to take these small steps to get back to where we were, so be it.
“Right there. God, I’m so close already.” Everything in me screams to fuck her face.
She liked that. She let me be who I needed to be. She was never afraid even when I got rough with her. Can we get back there?
With her eyes closed, she’s humming a moan in the back of her throat.
“Are you wet for me?” I run my fingers through the strands of her hair. “Is your pussy dripping?”
She pops off, breathing heavily, eyes bidden with lust. “What if I am?”
I catch the tiny smile fighting at her mouth. God. That smile nearly killed me when she was eighteen. So young and innocent, so off-limits, it made me feral.
“Then you’re doing it right.” I stroke her face. “I waited years to see those gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock again.”
Her mouth tightens, and my vision goes dark.
“You’re gonna make me come,” I groan. “If you don’t want to swallow me, you better stop.”
She steadies herself on her knees and works me harder.
Christ.
I lean back and give in to how this plays out. My climax climbs up my spine, and my balls tighten so fucking painfully. But mixed with the pleasure of an orgasm, it’s a satisfying itch to scratch.
“Fuck,” I mutter, holding her head as I spill down her throat.
I grip my base and ease her off me. The pearly beads dripping down the side of her mouth is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I lean forward and lick it off her lips.
It suddenly doesn’t feel right to keep her on the floor or let her run off to her bedroom.
I lift her up and put her on my lap. “Kiss me.”
She does, and the taste of my cum on her tongue drives me crazy. “Was that good?” she asks softly.
“Good? It was fucking incredible.”
It was also the first blow job I’ve had in five years, but who’s counting. I feel like I’m on fire.
My hands move through her hair. “What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to please you. You’ve been patient with me.” She exhales and looks around.
“Sucking my dick will test my patience.” I’m ready to test her right now, but a knock on my office door stops me.
I drag my suit jacket from the desk chair. “Put this on now. No one sees what’s mine.”
She holds it closed across her chest.
Even though her lips still look like I fucked her face, I say, “Come in.”
Drago strides in and stops short, seeing Sandrine in my office. In a scandalous nightgown. The oral I just got probably shows in my eyes, or maybe it’s the smell of her arousal.
“Pakhan. There’s an issue in the fourth ward. An alderman is holding a bratok.”
“That means there will be one less alderman tomorrow.” I reach for my gun that was resting on my desk. “I’ll meet you in the car in two minutes.”
He bows his head and leaves.
“It’s late.” Sandrine hands my suit jacket back to me. “When will you sleep?”
“I’ll manage. I was bred for this.” I kiss her on the forehead. “You get some sleep.”
“I’ll get Violet to school tomorrow.”
Not if you’re in my bed.
But I have to go slow. “She’d love that.”
In the hallway, I watch Sandrine glide in the opposite direction to her bedroom. Does she want to share my bed again like she never left? Not just as a mother to our child, but my wife?
Nothing about this feels survivable.
Drago waits in the kitchen, cars outside idling. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t expect to find her in your private office.”
“Neither did I.”
I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to keep my hands off my wife.