36. Delilah #2
He drags me toward him. My ass slides across the comforter. I’m still hugging myself, but when I’m close enough to him, he delicately takes my wrists, plucks them off, and sets them on the mattress at my side.
Then he touches my waist, stroking the edge of my panties. “May I?”
I nod.
As soon as he has my permission, he tugs my underwear down my legs. I gasp, my legs trembling as he exposes my dripping pussy to the cool air.
He doesn’t go for the kill immediately. Instead, he teases me. He uses his tongue to lick the outer lips, slow and deliberate, tasting the creaminess of my arousal.
“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he praises. “Such a dirty little baker. All that sweetness on the outside, and a soaking wet center just waiting for me on the inside.”
I arch my back as he laps at my clit in a slow pulse. His fingers cup my ass and pull me toward him, sliding just close enough to my other hole to make me tighten up with fear and anticipation.
The combination of the pressure and the suction builds heat through my nervous system. I’m shaking, my breath coming in ragged sobs.
“That’s it, Lilah. Let it out,” he encourages, looking up at me from between my thighs. “Show me that freak inside you. Stop being shy and tell me how much you want my cock.”
“I... I want it,” I sob, my hips bucking against his face. “Please, Kane, I want your cock inside me!”
“Come for me like a good girl and I’ll give it to you.”
Those words are the last straw.
I break open on his mouth, spasming like I’m being electrocuted as all the heat he stoked turns into fireworks.
Kane presses the heel of his hand against my clit to ground me as I flop and writhe. Then, once the peak has subsided, he stands up and looms over me.
“I’m going to stretch you out, Lilah,” he whispers, positioning himself between my thighs. “I’m going to fill every single corner of you.”
“Wait—!”
I roll to my side, open the nightstand drawer, and take out the condoms I bought on Friday. Kane smiles when he sees the unopened box.
“Prepared, I see.”
“More like I understand cause and effect. Just because I said I want to have sex with you doesn’t mean I want your babies.”
He holds out a hand. “As you wish, sladkaya.”
But I shake my head. “I want to do it.”
He lowers his hand.
I sit up on the edge of the bed. My knees are still shaking from what he just did to me, so it takes me a second to get the box open. The cardboard flap fights me. I tear it wrong and three of them come out in a strip and land on the comforter.
“Smooth,” I mutter.
“Take your time.”
Finally, I separate one and get the wrapper between my teeth because my fingers are damp. It rips open on the second try.
Then I look at him.
He’s standing right in front of me, close enough that if I leaned forward, he’d be against my mouth. Up close, he’s worse. Or better. I don’t know which word I want. He’s just so much bigger than anything I’ve dealt with before, and my brain keeps buffering unhelpfully.
“It’s not going to fit,” I say.
“It will.”
“You don’t know that. What if—”
“It’ll fit,” he promises. “We’ll take our time and make sure of it.”
I wrap my hand around him. At the first touch of my fingertips, the air punches out of his mouth. His whole body tightens up and his hands curl into fists again.
I pump once, just to feel him jump against my palm. His stomach draws in, highlighting the sharp lines of his abs.
“Lilah.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re playing.”
“I’m being thorough.” I roll the condom on with my other hand, working it down carefully, taking longer than I need to.
His head tips back. His throat moves.
And that’s when a thought sneaks in and sits down where I can’t ignore it.
Does he let other women do this?
He doesn’t seem like a man who hands the reins over. Not once, not to anyone. He puts his own name on things. He picks the restaurant and the tailor and the dress. He melted my deadbolt rather than wait for me to open my own door.
Twenty years and nobody’s given him an instruction, he said, and honestly, I believe him.
But he’s letting me steer now.
Does that mean what I think it might?
I don’t ask. I’m not going to ruin this by asking, and I’m not sure I’d trust the answer anyway.
I just get the condom on, smooth the base with my thumb, and look up at him. “Done.”
“Thank fucking God.” He cracks his neck. “Are you ready?”
“I… I think so.” I lick my lips. My mouth is suddenly so dry. But one look at Kane’s huge penis yearning toward me gets me salivating all over again.
“You’re in charge, Lilah,” he reminds me. “We’ll go at your pace.”
I scoot back onto the mattress until my shoulders find the pillows. Kane follows me up the bed on his knees.
I reach down between us and take hold of him. My hand looks absurd wrapped around his girth. I line him up where I need him, and the head slides through all that slickness, catching, sliding again.
“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay. Slow.”
“Slow,” he agrees, and doesn’t move an inch further than I pull him.
I press him in.
The stretch is immediate and enormous. My whole body goes rigid around the intrusion, and some hysterical part of my brain begs me to stop before it’s too late.
But I make myself breathe. Kane’s forehead drops to mine, his arm shaking beside my ear, his hips utterly obedient.
“Talk to me,” he urges.
“Still fitting,” I gasp. “Currently in the negotiation phase.”
“Take what you want.” He strokes a fallen lock of hair out of my face. “There’s no rush, sladkaya. I could stay here all night.”
So I do. I take another inch, then wait, then another, feeling my body give and adjust like dough finally deciding to cooperate.
He’s so deep it’s anatomically implausible, pressure blooming everywhere at once, and then something inside me unclenches and the pressure turns into something else entirely.
“Oh,” I say faintly.
“There it is.” His mouth grazes my jaw. “You feel that?”
I nod. I nod a lot. My hands find his back, ink and heat and sweat. I hold on to him and stay exactly where I am, not moving yet.
Then slowly, he starts to rock in and out of me. Half an inch at a time, then an inch, then two, then four, then I don’t even know how many.
He pulls out almost entirely, leaving only the head of his cock inside, before slamming back in. Slap. Slap. Slap. The sound of his thighs hitting my ass echoes in the quiet bedroom. My breasts bounce with the impact.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. You’re like a vice, Lilah. You were made for me.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, my legs locking around his waist to pull him even deeper. Moans I’ve never made before are pouring past my lips.
Who’s this bold girl? Who’s this confident woman? Who is saying “More, more!” to a man who swore to ruin her life?
It’s me. Not Do-It-All Delilah, but Lilah, Kane Makov’s Lilah.
His sladkaya.
His filthy little baker.
With a raised brow, he asks to change positions, and I nod frantically because yes, yes, I need that so fucking badly.
He flips me over effortlessly, palms me in my low back until I give him the arch he wants, presenting my pussy to him. Then he enters me from behind.
At this angle, every thrust drags over my G-spot and a whole new flurry of sensations tears through me with violence.
I’m sobbing now, the pleasure too intense to bear. He reaches around and grabs my tits, squeezing them hard, his thumbs rubbing my nipples into hard peaks.
“I love how your ass looks from this angle,” he growls as he fucks me. “So round, so soft. I could fuck you like this for days and never get tired of it.” I can feel the orgasm building, a tidal wave of heat starting in my toes and rushing toward my core.
“I’m... I’m going to...”
“Come for me, Lilah! Scream for me!” he commands.
I shatter. My internal muscles clamp down on him in savage spasms, milking him as I scream his name into the pillows. The intensity of the orgasm leaves me breathless, my body twitching under his.
A moment later, Kane lets out a roar, his body stiffening as he orgasms. I regret the condom for a moment, because I want so badly to feel him fill me.
We stay like that for a long time, breathing in unison.
But Kane isn’t done.
He lifts me up, kissing me deeply, and carries me toward the bathroom. He sets me down in the large walk-in shower, turning on the water until the room is filled with steam.
Then, with neither of us having yet said a word since we climaxed, he soaps me up.
His hands roam over my curves with a reverent touch, massaging the suds into my skin. It’s body worship in its purest form. He kisses my shoulders, my breasts, the dip of my waist, and the swell of my hips.
“You are everything,” he whispers, his voice softened but still possessing that edge of obsession. “I’m never letting you go.”
He pushes me against the tiled wall, the warm water cascading over us. He enters me again, slower this time, his movements languid and sensual. He watches my face, watching the way my eyes glaze over, the way my lips part.
“Tell me what you want, Lilah. Tell me how you want it.”
“I want... I want you to make me forget everything but you,” I whisper back.
In response, he lifts one of my legs, hooking it over his hip. I’ve never been split apart like this, but as soon as the first stroke enters, I don’t know how I ever lived without it.
He begins to fuck me with a slow, grinding motion, rotating his hips to rub against my clit.
“I’m going to make you a freak, baby,” he murmurs. “I’m going to teach you exactly how much pleasure you’re allowed to have. No more hiding. No more being the ‘quiet girl’.”
He speeds up. The friction of the water and the heat of our bodies creates a slippery, erotic chaos. He’s not just fucking my body; he’s dismantling my inhibitions.
Every word of praise, every filthy command, pushes me further away from the girl I thought I was and closer to the woman he wants me to be.