Gennady
I've wanted this since I tasted blood on her lip in the back of the car and felt something inside me recognize her as mine before my brain caught up.
But now she's standing in front of me in white lace that does absolutely nothing to hide her curves, and want has evolved into need so powerful it's taking everything I have not to rush this.
She's a virgin.
I need to remember that. Need to go slow, make this good for her, make sure her first time is something she'll remember for the right reasons.
Even if every instinct I have is screaming at me to claim her fast and hard and leave no doubt in her mind who she belongs to.
I press another kiss to her shoulder, then trail my mouth up the column of her neck. She melts back against me, and I feel the exact moment she stops thinking and starts feeling.
My hands slide from her waist to cup her breasts through the lace. They fit perfectly in my palms, full and soft, and when I brush my thumbs over her nipples, she gasps.
"Gennady—"
"Do you like that?" I ask against her ear.
"Yes." The word comes out breathy, uncertain.
I do it again, applying more pressure this time, and she arches into my touch with a sound that goes straight to my cock.
"Turn around," I murmur. "I want to see you."
She turns, and I finally get the view I've been craving. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted, eyes dark with arousal she probably doesn't even recognize for what it is yet. The white lace barely contains her breasts, and I can see her nipples hard against the fabric.
Perfect.
"I'm going to undress now," I tell her, watching her face. "And then I'm going to take you to bed and show you exactly what it means to be my wife."
Her breath catches, but she nods.
I shed my jacket first, then my shirt, deliberately slow so she has time to adjust. Her eyes widen as she takes in the tattoos covering my chest and arms. Most women find them intimidating. Matilda just looks fascinated.
"Can I..." She reaches out tentatively, then pulls back. "Can I touch them?"
"You can touch anything you want." I catch her hand and press it flat against my chest, right over my heart. "I'm yours as much as you're mine."
The words seem to unlock something in her. Her fingers trace one of the symbols inked into my skin with careful curiosity.
"What does this mean?"
"It's the mark of my position. Pakhan." I guide her hand lower, let her feel the way my muscles tense under her touch. "Every mark tells a story. I'll tell you all of them eventually. But not tonight."
I lift her easily, and she wraps her arms around my neck instinctively as I carry her to the bed. The sheets are cool and dark against her pale skin as I lay her down, and for a moment I just look at her.
Mine.
The thought makes something possessive and primal surge through me.
I follow her down, caging her beneath me with my arms on either side of her head. "If anything hurts, if you want me to stop or slow down, you tell me. Understand?"
She nods.
"Words, Matilda."
"I understand."
"Good girl."
She responds well to praise, and I file that information away for later. She likes being told she's good. Likes the approval.
I'm going to use that.
I kiss her slowly at first, relearning the taste of her mouth, the way she responds when I deepen the kiss. Her hands come up to grip my shoulders, nails digging in slightly when I suck on her lower lip.
My hand slides down her side, feeling every curve, every soft inch of her. The clasp of her bra opens easily, and I peel the lace away to reveal her breasts. Fucking perfect. I lower my head and take one nipple into my mouth, and the sound she makes, a half gasp, half moan, makes my cock throb.
I lavish attention on her tits, sucking and licking until she's writhing beneath me, her hands tangled in my hair. I have to adjust myself to relieve some of the pressure building there.
"Gennady, please—"
"Please what?" I move to her other breast, giving it the same treatment.
"I don't know," she admits, breathless. "I just—I need—"
"I know what you need." My hand slides down her stomach to the waistband of her panties.
I slip my hand inside the lace and find her wet and hot and ready for me. The discovery makes me groan as precum leaks from the tip of my cock.
"Fuck, Matilda. You're soaked."
She flushes with embarrassment, and I kiss her.
"That's good," I murmur against her mouth. "That's perfect."
I stroke her slowly, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her hips lift off the bed. When I find her clit and circle it with my thumb, she cries out.
"Does that feel good?"
"Yes—oh god, yes—"
I increase the pressure, working her with steady, deliberate movements while I watch her face. She's lost in it now, all that nervous uncertainty burned away by arousal. Her head tips back, throat exposed, and I want to mark her there. Want to leave evidence of my claim where everyone can see it.
But not yet. First, I need to make her come.
I slide one finger inside her as gently as I can, and she tenses.
"Relax," I murmur. "Let me in."
She takes a shaky breath and forces her muscles to relax, and I work my finger deeper. She's tight, incredibly tight, and the thought of being inside her makes my control slip dangerously.
I add a second finger, stretching her slowly while my thumb continues to work her clit. She's panting now, small whimpers escaping with every thrust of my fingers.
"That's it," I encourage. "Take what I'm giving you."
Her hips start to move in rhythm with my hand, chasing the pleasure, and I know she's close.
"It’s okay, Matilda. Let go."
She shatters with a cry that's half my name, half incoherent sound. Her body clamps down on my fingers, pulsing with the force of her orgasm, and I work her through it until she's boneless and gasping beneath me.
Beautiful.
I withdraw my hand and bring my fingers to my mouth, tasting her. Her eyes go wide.
"Gennady—"
"You taste amazing," I tell her, already reaching for my belt. "And I'm going to taste you properly later. But right now, I need to be inside you."
I strip off the rest of my clothes, and her eyes go to my cock. I'm hard and aching, and when she sees the size of me, uncertainty flashes across her face.
"It's going to fit," I assure her, settling between her legs. "Our bodies were made for each other."
I hook my fingers in her panties and pull them down, leaving her completely bare. She tries to close her legs instinctively, but I press them open.
"Don't hide from me. I want to see all of you."
I take my cock in hand and line myself up, rubbing the head through her wetness. She's still sensitive from her orgasm, and every pass over her clit makes her jerk.
"This is going to hurt at first," I warn her. "But I'll go slow. And then it's going to feel so good you won't remember the pain."
"Okay," she whispers.
I push in slowly, just the head, and feel her body resist. She's so tight I have to grit my teeth against the urge to just drive forward and bury myself completely.
"Breathe," I tell her, holding myself still. "Relax and breathe."
She does, and I slide in another inch. Then another. She whimpers, and I stop.
"Does it hurt?"
"A little. It's just—you're so—"
"Big?" I supply, unable to keep the satisfaction out of my voice.
She nods, and I kiss her deeply while I push in further. Halfway now, and she's gripping my shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
"Almost there," I murmur against her mouth. "You're doing so well. Taking me so well."
One more push and I'm fully seated inside her, and the feeling is so intense I have to close my eyes and count to ten to keep from coming right then and there.
She's perfect. Tight and hot and mine.
"Okay?" I ask through gritted teeth.
"I think so." She shifts experimentally, and we both groan. "It doesn't hurt as much now."
"Good. Because I need to move."
I pull out slowly, then push back in, and she gasps. I do it again, establishing a rhythm that's gentle and controlled even though every instinct is screaming at me to go harder, faster, deeper.
But this is her first time. I'll be gentle now.
Later, I'll show her what I'm really capable of.
Her body starts to adjust, accepting me more easily with each thrust. The pain fades from her expression, replaced by pleasure, and when she starts to meet my thrusts, I know she's with me.
"Yes, Matilda," I encourage. "Move with me. Take what you need."
I reach between us and find her clit again, and the combination makes her cry out. She's close again, I can feel it in the way her body tenses, the way her nails dig into my back.
"Come for me again," I command. "Come on my cock while I fill you up."
The words push her over the edge. She comes with a scream, her body clamping down on me so hard I can't hold back anymore. I thrust deep and let go, coming harder than I have in years, filling her with everything I have.
Mine. She's mine.
I collapse beside her, pulling her against my chest before our breathing has even steadied. She's trembling, and I stroke her hair, her back, soothing her through the aftermath.
"You okay?" I ask.
"I think so." Her voice is small, dazed. "That was..."
"That was just the beginning," I tell her, already feeling myself start to harden again. "We have all night, Matilda. And I'm nowhere near done with you."