Chapter 12 #2
I grip the heavy, vein-ridged length of him and pull one long, torturous stroke.
I squeeze just enough from base to tip to make the head flare a deep purple, the tip weeping a steady, desperate leak.
His whole face twists, the cords in his neck bulging as he clamps his jaw shut, fighting the urge to whimper or break right then and there.
“I’m not impressed.” I keep my voice flat as I hold him, his pulse thrumming against my palm in a frantic contrast to my words.
“Liar.” His voice is rough. “Your hand says otherwise. You can’t even wrap your fingers around me.”
I move my hand again with more pressure, gripping his cock hard. His hips buck, driving himself deeper into my grip. “That’s just a reflex.”
“Is that right, you fucking tease?” he pants harshly, his control shattered as my hand glides slowly up his throbbing cock.
“Then why the fuck haven’t you let go yet?
You’re still wrapped tight around my dick like a desperate little cumslut, stroking every thick, veiny inch and milking me dry while I leak all over your greedy fingers.
You just can’t stop jerking me off, can you? Filthy fucking addict.”
Good question. One I don’t have an answer to. So I just keep stroking his thick cock. My hand moves repeatedly, establishing a pace, really working his dick. His expression transforms, arrogance melting into desperate hunger as I stroke him.
Suddenly, his hand clamps around my throat, cutting off my air as he grins down at me.
“There you go,” he rasps, watching me struggle to breathe while my fist works his shaft.
“Keep going. Don’t stop jerking me off. You’re so fucking hot like this…
can barely breathe, yet you still won’t let go of my cock. Such a desperate little whore for it.”
His free hand stays clenched at his side, shaking. “God, I want to fuck that pretty throat.”
The question comes out strangled as I twist my wrist, his hand still crushing my throat. He groans deeply. “Thought you… could wait.” I’m fighting for breath between words. “Thought you… had control.”
“I do.” But his grip loosens slightly, just enough to let me breathe better, his cock throbbing violently in my other hand.
“Doesn’t look like it.” I press my thumb against the tip, feeling him pulse in my hand. “Looks like you’re about to lose it.”
His eyes snap open, dark and feral. The man who runs an empire, who makes grown men tremble, is reduced to a desperate, cock-drunk mess by my hand. I’ve never felt more powerful in my life.
“You’re playing with fire, Vedma.” His voice is barely recognizable. “Jerking my cock like that… making me want to fuck you so bad I can’t think straight.”
“Maybe I like getting burned.”
I release my grip on his cock, watching it bob and pulse and jerk.
Hard as steel and slick with pre-cum. Stepping back, I put some space between us, my lips parting on their own accord and my heart thumping with such intensity I almost lose my breath.
But in that second, I turn to face the water again, a sly grin just underneath my tone.
I hear the change in the air, the frustration embedded in it, from the way everything just … halts.
“What are you…?” His voice is hoarse and surprised.
“I’m washing my hair.” I pick up the shampoo bottle, shrugging slightly. “You said you could wait. So wait.”
I hear him curse low under his breath. Then I hear something else - the rustle of movement, his breathing quickening and getting faster.
It’s a desperate, ragged sound in the quiet.
I turn around to face him again. Water streams down his body as he braces one hand against the wall, his other hand working himself with the same rhythm I established.
His eyes drag upward from my pussy, over my stomach and breasts, until they lock onto mine while he strokes his cock faster and faster.
“You started this, Vedma.” His voice is strained. “Now you get to watch me finish it.”
Disgust should have me turning away, but I stay right where I am. My heart hammers against my ribs as I watch him. And then, even though it takes almost everything in me, I present him with my back again. My heart is pounding.
The first thick rope of cum hits the small of my back.
I jerk forward on instinct with my palms smacking the tile as I try to twist away from him. My breath hitches when the cold tile meets my skin, the sound of the water still drumming behind me while I scramble to get some distance.
His hand finds the back of my neck instantly with a firm, possessive grip that guides me down. I bend over until my forearms brace against the wall with my ass high in the air, leaving me exposed and dripping in the middle of the huge open shower.
“Don’t move, Vedma,” he rasps, his voice gritty. “Stay just like this, or I won’t be able to stop myself from burying my cock inside you right now.”
More cum blasts out in thick ropes that splatter between my ass cheeks and slide hot and sticky over my pussy lips. Another pulse hits, and then another, coating my back and my ass and my thighs in heavy, claiming streaks.
“Zoya… fuck… you’re drenched in me,” he drawls, need etched in his tone. “This dripping cunt is all fucking mine to paint. I’m gonna keep shooting until that greedy hole overflows and runs straight down your thighs, Fuck, I wanna watch it drip from your pussy while you walk around marked as mine.”
Alexei’s chest heaves against my back. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hand clamps hard onto my hip, guiding his still-hard, cum-slick cock down between my thighs. The thick heat of him presses right against my soaked entrance, teasing the tight opening.
He rocks his hips, dragging the head up and down my slit, coating my folds with the mess he just made.
“I just took a shower, you asshole. You can’t just come on me.” He pants heavily with his shaft still in his hand, his stare filled with want and smugness.
“Should I put it in your pussy next time instead?” he asks, his tone low and smug as he grinds against me. “I’m more than happy to fill this greedy little cunt if you’re going to complain about wearing my cum.”
Words completely fail me. I seize the detachable shower head and switch it to cold, spraying the cum off my body while he watches me.
His mouth quirks with a smug, pleased look that says he doesn't mind the cleanup one bit as long as he’s the one who put it there.
The freezing water hits my skin and makes me shiver, but I keep the spray steady until the last of him vanishes down the drain.
I step out and secure a towel around my body before walking away from him without a word. But before I get too far, his hand catches my hip and pulls me back against his chest. His warm breath teases my neck.
“Sorry about that,” he murmurs into my shoulder. Ironic, because I hear zero regret. “Couldn’t stop myself.” He’s still thick and hard against me despite the mess he just made. His hand flattens over my stomach, fingers drawing lazy lines.
“This changes nothing.” I make it clear.
“You sure?”
“Yup,” I correct. “I still can’t stand your guts.”
He kisses my shoulder, my neck, the spot just below my ear that sends ripples down my spine. “I have time to get you to love me.” Alexei steps back and turns off the water, stepping out of the shower as if nothing happened at all.
“Twenty minutes until breakfast,” he says, securing a towel around his hips. “Be downstairs at my table, or I’ll drag you there myself. And trust me, I’ll enjoy every second of carrying my half-naked wife through my house.”
He walks out of the bathroom.