18. Alina
ALINA
Mikhail’s hot, heavy breath grazes my ear, and my legs turn into jelly.
I feel his body pressed to mine, hard and unyielding.
With my pulse hammering, I meet his eyes, seeing pure hunger in them.
My chest clenches as he leans in, lips brushing mine slowly.
His hand slides up my side, thumb digging into my skin.
I tilt my head, lips parting for him. His taste hits sharp, dark, and I lean in, craving more.
“You’re shaking, Alina,” he growls into my mouth. I can’t answer, not when his lips move to my jaw. His stubble scrapes, and I gasp as he kisses my throat. His teeth nip lightly, sending sparks through me. His hand tugs my hair, tilting me back, and the heat rushes south.
“Tell me you want me,” he says, eyes locked on mine, burning with desire. His thigh pushes between mine in a slow grind. My breath catches, hips moving without thought. “Say it, baby, fuckin’ say it,” he urges, voice dripping with need, but soft too, slicing through me.
“I want you,” I breathe, voice unsteady.
My hands clutch his shoulders, nails pressing in.
I drag him closer, desperate for more, and he kisses me deeper this time.
His tongue takes over, hungry and bold. One hand slips under my shirt, rough on bare skin.
The other spins us, pinning me to the glass wall.
The cold shocks my back, and I arch into him. His mouth leaves mine, trailing to my neck. He sucks hard at my collarbone, and I bite my lip to stay quiet. My hands grip his jacket, pulling as desire builds. “You’re so damn perfect,” he murmurs, breath warm on my skin.
His words fuel the fire, and I writhe against him. His hand moves up, brushing my bra. Fingers tease the edge, maddeningly slow, until I gasp. “Look at you, so needy for me,” he says, a dark grin in his tone. His other hand finds my dress zipper, yanking it down.
The fabric falls loose, slipping off my shoulder. His gaze drops, heavy with want. He tugs the dress lower, exposing my chest. His thumbs stroke over lace, making me shudder. Then he’s on me, hands cupping my breasts, squeezing with a hungry tenderness.
“God, I’ve ached for this,” he growls, mouth crashing into mine. He catches my moan, fingers teasing my sensitive skin just right. I push into his touch, needing more of him. “You feel so damn good, Alina,” he says, voice rough with lust. His grip is firm, reverent, and it drives me wild.
His mouth leaves mine, trailing down my neck again.
With one hand, he unclasps my bra and tosses it aside and groans as he stares at my breasts.
His mouth closes in on one, sucking hard before his tongue flicks over the nipple, hot and wet, and I whimper, hands tightening in his hair.
“Fuck, you taste sweet,” he mutters, sucking gently, then harder, sending jolts through my core.
“Mikhail,” I gasp, barely audible, as he switches to the other side. His teeth graze lightly, tongue swirling, and I’m losing it. “Don’t stop,” I plead, voice raw. He groans against me, the vibration hitting deep. “I won’t, baby, not till you’re begging,” he promises, mouth working me relentlessly.
My hands slide down his chest, tracing solid lines. I reach his waistband, fingers trembling with want. “Go on, touch me,” he urges, voice dark, eyes lifting to mine, full of heat. I drop to my knees, the floor hard beneath me. My hands work his belt, pulling it free.
He watches, breath ragged, as I undo the buckle. “That’s it, just like that,” he says, tone thick with need. I pop the button open, quick and eager. My fingers grip the zipper, sliding it down slow, and
His pants loosen, and I push them just enough to free him, my breath catching at the sight.
He’s thick, long, and so damn hard, the veins prominent under the light, and a rush of memory hits me—I’ve missed this, missed him, the way he fills every sense.
My hands wrap around the base, feeling the heat of him, and I glance up, meeting his gaze, dark and heavy with want.
“Fuck, Alina, don’t tease me,” he growls.
His hand slides into my hair, fingers tangling, not pulling yet, just holding as I lean forward.
My lips brush the tip, tasting the salt of him, and he hisses, grip tightening.
I take him in slow, mouth stretching around his girth, tongue pressing against the underside as I sink deeper, feeling that familiar ache in my jaw.
“Goddamn, that’s it,” he mutters, hips shifting slightly. His cock slides further, heavy on my tongue, and I hollow my cheeks, sucking hard, taking as much of his length as I can. He’s so thick, it’s a struggle, but I want it, want to feel every inch.
I hum around him, the vibration making him groan, and my hands grip his thighs, nails digging in as I bob my head, working him steady.
His fingers tighten in my hair, guiding now, not rough but firm, and he moves his hips, sliding in and out, setting a slow rhythm.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasps, watching me, eyes burning. “Taking me so deep.”
His length hits the back of my throat, and I relax, letting him push a little more, spit slicking him as I swallow around him.
He’s so hard, throbbing against my tongue, and I can feel how close he’s getting, the tension in his thighs, the way his breath goes ragged.
“Shit, Alina, you’re gonna make me lose it,” he warns, voice tight, but I don’t stop, sucking harder, wanting to push him there.
But he pulls back suddenly, slipping out of my mouth with a wet pop, and I gasp for air, lips swollen, looking up at him.
“Not yet,” he says, chest heaving, hand still in my hair.
“Get up, baby.” His voice is a command, but there’s a tremor of need in it, and I stand on shaky legs, his grip steadying me as he pulls me to my feet.
He doesn’t hesitate, spinning me around to face the glass wall, my hands bracing against the cool surface.
My dress is still half-down, bunched at my waist, and he tugs it further, exposing more of me as his hands slide down my hips, rough and urgent.
“Spread for me,” he orders, voice low in my ear, and I shift my legs apart, heart pounding as he drops to his knees behind me.
His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider, and then his face is there, buried in me, hot breath against my core through the thin fabric of my underwear.
He doesn’t bother pulling them down yet, just presses his mouth against me, tongue dragging over the lace, wet and insistent.
I moan, low and broken, pressing back into him as the sensation hits hard.
“Fuck, you’re soaked already,” he growls, muffled against me, and I feel his teeth graze the edge of the fabric before he tugs it aside with his fingers.
Then his tongue is on me, licking a slow, deliberate line through my folds, tasting me deep, and my knees nearly buckle.
“Mikhail,” I gasp, hands slipping on the glass, and he groans into me, the sound vibrating through my core.
“So fucking sweet,” he mutters, tongue circling my clit, then dipping lower, pushing into me as his hands hold my hips still, keeping me exactly where he wants me.
His tongue drives into me, relentless and hot, pushing deep into my slick heat as his hands clamp down on my hips, pinning me against the glass wall.
My fingers scrabble for grip, nails scraping the smooth surface, and I can’t hold back the desperate whimper that spills from my lips.
Mikhail growls against me, the vibration shooting straight through my core, and I feel my thighs tremble, barely able to keep me upright as he devours me like a man starved.
“Fuck, you taste like heaven,” he mutters, voice muffled between my legs, rough with hunger.
His mouth works harder, tongue lashing against my clit in tight, fast circles, then diving back to thrust inside me, mimicking what I crave from him.
My hips jerk, but he doesn’t let up, one hand sliding down to spread me wider, fingers digging into my inner thigh as his lips seal around my most sensitive spot, sucking hard.
“Come on, baby, let go for me,” he urges, the words vibrating against me, and I’m spiraling, the pressure building wild and fast.
I can’t form words, just broken gasps, as he pushes me closer to the edge.
His tongue flicks with brutal precision, alternating between deep, penetrating strokes and sharp, teasing licks, and I feel my body tightening, a coil ready to snap.
“Mikhail—oh God,” I choke out, head tipping back against the glass, and he chuckles into my pussy.
His fingers join in, one slipping inside me, curling just right to hit that spot while his mouth keeps working my clit, and I’m gone.
My climax hits like a storm, raw and overwhelming, and I cry out, legs shaking uncontrollably as I come.
He doesn’t pull away, not for a second, groaning as he takes it all, tongue lapping eagerly, drinking me down like it’s the only thing he needs.
“Fuck yes, that’s it, Alina,” he rasps, voice thick with lust, lapping at me through the aftershocks as my body quakes, hips bucking against his face.
My knees start to give, but his hands hold me steady, keeping me pressed to the wall while waves of pleasure pulse through me, each lick drawing out the high until I’m a whimpering mess.
“You’re so damn perfect when you come like that,” he growls, finally pulling back, his lips and chin glistening with me as he rises to his feet.
I’m still trembling, breath ragged, when he grips my waist and spins me around to face him, my back now pressed to the cold glass.
His eyes are wild, burning with need, and I can see the strain in his jaw, the way his chest heaves as he fights for control.
“Look at me, baby,” he says, voice a command, and I do, meeting that dark gaze as his hands slide down to grip my thighs, lifting me just enough to pin me against the wall.
My dress is a tangled mess around my waist, underwear shoved aside, and I feel so exposed, so raw, but the hunger in his expression makes me ache for more.
“I’ve missed this pussy,” he murmurs, one hand moving to grip himself, dragging the thick head of his cock through my wetness, teasing at my entrance.
My breath hitches, body still hypersensitive from the orgasm, and I squirm, wanting him inside, needing that stretch.
“You ready for me?” he asks, voice rough, eyes locked on mine, and I nod, desperate, hands clutching his shoulders.
“Say it,” he demands, rubbing himself against me, the heat and hardness of him making me whine.
“Tell me you want my cock, Alina.” His words are filthy, dripping with intent, and I can’t hold back, not when he’s teasing me like this, dragging the tip over my clit, sending sparks through my still-shaking body.
“I want it,” I gasp, voice breaking. “Please, Mikhail, I need you inside me.”
“That’s my girl,” he grits out, a faint smirk curling his lips, but it’s gone in a flash as he shifts, aligning himself.
His hands tighten on my hips, holding me steady against the glass, and I feel the broad head of him press against me, stretching just enough to make me gasp before he pushes in slow, deliberate, filling me inch by inch.
He’s so thick, so long, and the burn of it, mixed with the slickness still coating me, has me moaning, head falling back against the wall as he buries himself deeper, claiming every part of me.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, pausing halfway, letting me adjust, but I can feel the tension in him, the way he’s holding back.
My nails dig into his shoulders, urging him on, and he thrusts a little more, stretching me further, the sensation so intense I can barely breathe.
“Take it all, baby,” he mutters, voice strained, and I nod, panting, feeling him slide deeper still, until he’s almost fully seated, the weight of him inside me overwhelming in the best way.
His hips press to mine, and I’m pinned completely, trapped between his body and the glass, every nerve on fire as he holds there, letting me feel every hard inch.
“Goddamn, I’ve missed this,” he says, voice low, one hand sliding up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheek as his other hand grips my thigh, keeping me open for him.
My body clenches around him on instinct, and he hisses, eyes darkening.
“You feel that? How fucking perfect we fit?” he asks, and I can only whimper in response, still trembling from before, now intensified by the way he fills me, stretching me to my limit.
He pulls back just a fraction, then rocks forward again, a shallow thrust that makes me gasp, my hands tightening on him as I brace for more.
“How did I ever think I could live without this?” he murmurs darkly, fucking me like he needs his cock inside my cunt to merely live.
“I need it. I need you. Fuck, Alina, you’re mine.
Mine,” he growls, mouth brushing my ear, hot breath sending shivers down my spine.
“And don’t you ever forget it.” I can feel the barely restrained power in him, the way his muscles tense as he holds himself in check, and I know he’s waiting, watching for my reaction, wanting me to beg for it.
My lips part, a plea ready to spill out, but he shifts again, pushing even deeper, and my mind blanks, overwhelmed by the feel of him, the heat, the sheer size as he claims me completely against the cold glass.