CHAPTER TEN #4
With his other hand, he does what I ask and reaches down the front of his sweatpants. A moment later, his tip sweeps over my pussy, sending an electrical current down to my toes.
“You know what I like.” I reach between my legs, guiding him along my edges until I feel him notch in my entrance. “Now you’re going to show me what you like.”
Before he can respond, I begin to sink down, slowly taking him in as my jaw falls open.
He watches intently, his breaths getting deeper as I rise, only to sink back down again with a satisfied moan.
Sergei grips my waist firmly with both hands, holding me steady while I roll my hips up and down the length of his cock.
Exposed in front of the massive windows, my core pulses with each movement. I want to take him in deeper still.
“Use me,” I murmur on my breath. “Use me like a toy to make yourself come.”
And he’s going to make me come, too, while he does it. Because there’s nothing better than being used by a man who loves and respects you, who’s completely enamored by you.
“Brave woman, aren’t you?” Sergei tightens his grip and slows my pace, lifting me to the edge of his length before bringing me back down to take him to the hilt.
My head rolls along my shoulders, sweeping my hair across his face. “Don’t you dare hold back,” I tease. “You don’t scare me.”
His pace quickens, his fingertips pressing so good into my flesh. My thighs tremble with satisfaction as my words make him harder, stealing my breath as he stretches me even more.
“Faster,” I plead, the deep pulse of his cock making my eyes roll.
He reaches up with one hand and rakes his fingers up the back of my scalp. Then he clenches his fist and gently pulls my head back. “You go where I put you,” he rasps in my ear.
Every touch feels torturous as Sergei runs his hands along my curves, teasing my hip crease but always pulling back before dipping down too far. But even he can’t resist after so long. Soon, his pace increases and I roll my hips with every pulse, chasing the high along with him.
“Look at you,” he groans. “You're a goddamn sparkler now.”
My eyes round. Holy shit. Sergei has jokes.
Sergei Mikhailov is fucking funny.
A drunken grin spreads across my face. “I do know how to make you explode.”
“How could you not? That pussy's hot as fuck.”
I could do this all day with him, especially because every one of his raunchy puns drives me further toward the edge. Maybe we are made for each other. With every thrust, I fall deeper into his world. And now I want to get lost, stay hidden and locked away with him.
“Tear me apart,” I creak out. “I know you want to.”
Sergei pulls me down, burying himself deep inside me. “I’ll always treat you like my Printsessa,” he hums, leaving kisses along my jaw. “And then you’ll let me fuck you like a whore.”
Moments later, he grabs me around the waist and rises from the sofa.
With a gasp, I grab his arm at my stomach as he hooks his other under my knee.
Still inside me, he ambles across the living room to the bookshelf in front of the window.
Flanked by the potted plants, he carefully sets my knees on the top of the waist-height shelf.
My knees splay out as his massive hand grips the back of my neck and presses my cheek and breasts into the frigid glass.
I suck in a sharp breath at the sting of the cold on my nipples, my fingertips turning white against the pane.
I must be insane. It has to be him…this place.
If any other man tried to do this to me it would trigger my flight response faster than you could say “personal protective order.”
But not Sergei. I want to see the parts of him that no one else gets to see. And I want him to see the parts of me that no one else does.
“Whatever’s out there will have a perfect view of you now.” Then he gives a sharp thrust, eliciting a high-pitched moan from me. But then he stills for a moment. “How will I know if you want me to stop?”
My tits and my face are both flattened against the window glass for all the deer, elk, and cryptids to see and he’s asking about safe words.
Protect this man at all costs.
“Loud!” I blurt out.
“Loud?” he echoes apprehensively.
“Yes,” I gasp, “because I would never call you that.”
Can you hear someone smile? Because I think he is. I still can’t see him, but I feel him come closer, his hair brushing over my bare shoulder.
He presses his mouth to my ear, sending a shiver down my back. “You make all the noise I need.”
Like a collar, Sergei’s hand clamps my neck to the glass, but not hard enough to obstruct my airway.
Everything goes still, and then I let out a cry as he drives his cock back inside me.
Slowly, he pulls back, only to thrust hard again as I brace myself against the window.
It's a good pain, on the brink that only intensifies the pleasure. Because he belongs there.
My whimpers and moans only make him go deeper and grip me harder.
But he feels fucking amazing. The chill of the glass dwindles with each second as heat engulfs my body, fogging the window around my figure.
His thrusts become harsher and more violent, but they only elicit cries of pleasure.
The sharp snap of his skin against mine as he renders me immobile does nothing but drive me closer to the edge.
The broad-leafed plants tremble in their pots as broken words spill over my lips.
I told him a safe word, but I have no plans to use it.
I asked for him to give me everything, and I meant it.
And he doesn’t disappoint. He’s hitting every nerve ending I didn’t even know existed, drawing sounds from me that I don’t recognize.
But he’s feeding something inside me that’s been starving.
“I’m—I’m almost there,” I whimper against the glass.
“Should I fill this pretty pussy again?” he says into my ear, sending a jolt of electricity down my entire back. “You like keeping part of me inside you?”
“I want all of you inside me,” I groan, half mad. “You…and only you.”
He says something else, but I don’t catch it. Is he speaking English? Probably Russian. It doesn’t matter, maybe he’ll tell me later if my brain comes back to equilibrium. But it must be something good because his pace quickens and I can feel his grip tighten and hear his breaths get deeper.
Still holding me firm against the window, his other hand snakes around my stomach and down between my legs, going in for the kill.
I slam my palm against the window, my fingertips turning white as I drag them down the glass.
Everything goes dark as my eyes roll back in my head, the orgasm hitting like a freight train.
My muscles seize against his strength and all I can do is let a scream rip from my throat.
The glass fogs under my breath as I come back down, my muscles shaking with fatigue as the tremors dissipate.
But even after a minute, when the only sounds are our labored breaths, Sergei doesn’t step away.
Instead, he remains pressed against my back, still inside me as his grip relaxes.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his chest, his hair falling over my shoulder as he speaks into my ear.
“That’s what I like, Printsessa,” he whispers.
I turn over my shoulder, pressing my cheek against his broad chest.
“Sergei Mikhailov,” I smile, “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”