15. Cash #2
Bobbing my head, I took him as deep as I could, but when he hit the back of my throat, I gagged and pulled back.
Eyes watering, I swallowed and tried again.
I’d never been able to do this, but I wanted him to know—I wanted him to feel how deep I wanted him inside me.
Taking a breath, steeling myself, I let his tip press against my throat.
All I could do was swallow against him, but that was enough for his eyes to flutter shut.
For a second, he pressed forward, and I thought he might take more, wanted him to no matter what it did to me, but then he pulled back. His cock slipped from my spit-slick lips. “Upstairs,” he rasped. “To bed.”
I nodded. Fuck, I wanted that. Him pinning me down in the bed I’d made him, making me his, blowing away every other worry or consideration for just a little while.
He helped me up and held my hand all the way to his room, but when we got there, he looked around. It was empty. There was nothing. “Hold on. You”—he frowned at me—“you get naked. Get on the bed. I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared, and I shed my clothes.
We should probably talk. We needed to talk.
I didn’t want to, though. I just wanted him, and the rest—it was for later or never. Right that second, I was naked, crawling up onto his bed on my hands and knees. I waited for him with my ass in the air, my cheeks burning.
When he came back, he stopped in the door and cursed.
It was another long moment, my hot face buried against a pillow, before I heard his clothes drop. He climbed up the bed behind me.
“You really do want me, don’t you?” he asked. Somehow, there was awe in his voice that didn’t make any damn sense to me.
I nodded. “Please, you’re—”
Everything.
He was everything I’d ever wanted—strong and gorgeous, kind and safe—and I’d been swallowing that desire for years, sure that I could never have this.
Even now, I didn’t think I could keep him. But once was more than I’d ever really hoped for. And he wanted me too. It was too much for me to take.
Behind me, Aleks hummed. I was glad he seemed to understand and wasn’t intent on making me spill my guts out for him.
His fingertips traced up the back of my thigh, and I arched my back, lifting my ass higher.
He groaned in appreciation, and leaned down, dragging his lips up my spine, trailing kisses across my shoulder. I shivered when he kissed my neck.
Then, he did the unthinkable. He nibbled my ear, nuzzled into it, and whispered with his beautiful accent, “I want you too.”
I sobbed with need, utterly overwhelmed. When the pad of his finger circled my rim, I heard the pop of a plastic bottle, then slick lube dribbled across my hole and his finger. He pressed it into me with a squelch that shorted every thought in my brain.
“You have done this before?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I panted. “I prefer . . . I like receiving better than . . . This is okay?”
He hummed. “More than okay.”
He fucked me with his finger, slow and deep. The way his fingertip slid over my prostate each stroke in and out made my dick dribble onto the bed beneath me.
He added another finger, and I thought I might die. It was tight. I didn’t—when I tried this alone, I couldn’t get my fingers deep like this, and his hand was bigger than mine.
His cock had filled up my mouth, thick and heavy and perfect against my tongue. But would it be too much after going so long without?
Aleks seemed determined to make sure it wasn’t. He fingered me until every sound that came out of me was a whimper or a sob, until I was slick and my ass felt warm.
Another finger, and I spread my thighs wider. I couldn’t take this torment any longer. I wanted his hips flush against my ass, his dick buried so deep inside that I lost myself.
“Fuck me,” I begged, turning my head on the pillow so I could see him from the corner of my eye. His forehead was sweaty, his brows knitted with the restraint I hadn’t even realized he’d been showing.
One short nod later, and he was lining the blunt head of his dick up with my hole. As much as he’d worked me, loosening me up and softening that tight ring of muscle so I could take him, he was still impossibly large. I’d never felt so full in my life, and I stilled beneath him, trying to breathe.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Yes. Perfect, Aleks. So good. Thank you.” Perhaps that last was strange, but he hadn’t had to take so much care with me. I was quite sure Grant would have preferred that he didn’t, but Aleks had been gentle and patient and now when he fucked me it was—
It was blissful, surrendering to the rhythm of his hips and his hands gripping my thighs. He slid one palm up, pressing into the arch of my back, and I cried out, a gush of precome dripping out of me.
The wet sounds and his hips slapping my ass were everything I’d imagined. What I wouldn’t give to have this forever—to have a mate who knew just how to take care of me, someone I could keep for my own. A person to trust.
I let myself believe that this was that, even when I knew better. Just for a little while, the overwhelming warmth in my chest was worth it.
Then, Aleks pulled out and I sobbed at the loss.
“Turn over,” he said, gripping my hip to flip me onto my back. Somehow, he’d managed to get a pillow under my hips so they were lifted for him. It wasn’t until he looked into my eyes that he said, “I want to see you.”
My heart squeezed so hard I thought it’d explode. He hooked his arm beneath my bent knee, spreading me wide open before he thrust into me again.
I clung to him, nails digging into his back.
He was right; this was better. This was the first time in my life I’d looked at the person inside me and known that some part of them—I’d get to keep it. Even if it was just seeing him from afar, knowing we’d had this, Aleks was in my life and that wasn’t likely to change.
I arched, throwing my head back as he hit just right.
“So pretty,” he growled.
Dazed, I stared up at him. Then his mouth was on mine, his whole body pressing me down.
Every inch of me was heat and need, and my orgasm hit me hard before I’d even realized we’d gone so far. His stomach dragged across my dick, and his cock inside stretched me out just right, and my whole body lit up.
I cried out, squeezing his shoulders, squirming under him as my cock pumped over and over, coating the both of us with my spend.
As I gasped and shivered, he cupped my cheek with his broad, smooth hand, and said another soft phrase in Russian. His mouth covered mine.
He snapped his hips, once, twice—then he stilled, coming inside me with his brow pinched and his forehead pressed hard to mine.
Before he could pull away, I hooked my leg around his thigh, my ankle behind his knee.
“Stay tonight,” I gasped against his temple. It wasn’t our house, and that wasn’t the purpose of this, but I needed—I just needed. “Please, let’s just . . . just tonight.”
His sigh came out shaky against my lips, and he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”
For once, all the fear I’d been carrying around untangled. I let it go. For one night, he was mine, and I wanted to savor every second.