33. Shower 2 - Maxim 1 #3
I thrust the one digit into her ass, enjoying her shaky sigh especially when I can tell she wants to wiggle into it. Then, I coax her G-spot again.
As I do, I watch her face, gifting her soft sucks on her clit until her features tense, until her body vibrates, until every limb is tense from the stillness I demand—
“Come, tsaritsa,” I coo before latching onto her clit and pushing her over the edge.
Her scream is everything I could ever have dreamed of the first time I pleasured her.
She writhes against me, completely lost and completely found.
Because of me.
The scream turns into an endless wail as I push her through that initial hurdle.
The wail morphs into a keening cry as I demand more from her, refusing to stop until she’s wrung dry.
When she starts sobbing, only then do I withdraw.
I leave her pussy, then pet her clit as I retreat from her ass too. She trembles and whines and rocks once the aftershocks hit.
And then I surge up her body and find my place between her thighs.
I position her legs where I want them, enjoying the fact that she allows me to do so.
With a brat, it’s a delight to see this side of her.
When I order, “Dig those feet into my ass, Victoria,” she complies with a sleepy yawn.
Don’t tell me why that has everything inside me throbbing with need.
I rub my lips over hers and peck soft kisses over her cheeks. “Do you want my cock inside that tight pussy of yours, pchelka?”
She falls into my kiss with an ease I’ll never take for granted. “Always.”
My heart clenches. Fuck, I think my soul does too.
“But don’t you need to sleep?” I half-taunt.
Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks. “Want you in me first.”
Right answer.
Reaching down, I grab my cock and rest it against her slit. The tip brushes her entrance and she keeps her eyes locked on mine as I promise, “Only pleasure for you, my tsaritsa.”
That earns me a shiver and another moan as, slowly, I press into her.
I’m shocked to feel her hymen.
I know she rides horses at her sister’s stable when she’s home so I figured that’d be a thing of the past. Once I sense it, her lips firm but she closes her eyes.
I put most of my weight onto one hand and grab my pillow with the other. Situating it under her ass requires some maneuvering, but I get it there in the end.
Her breathing sounds overly loud in the silent room as, gently, I sink in deep, going farther than she might have expected, especially with no discomfort—I can read her expression like a book.
Mostly, she appears to be wide-eyed at the sensation.
I rub her clit as she acclimates to my thickness, and then she flings her arms around my neck and drags me closer to her.
Smiling, I let her hide her face in my throat as I flatten my arms on either side of her shoulders.
Then, straight into the source, I whisper in her ear, “Do you want to hear what you do to me, zaya?”
“Please.” She whimpers.
“You make me so hard, Victoria. Only you. Only you could get me like this. Only you could drive me insane. I want your pleasure and I want to fill you with my cum. I want you to think about how many times I can push you into an orgasm.
“I want you to demand pleasure from me.”
“You don’t mind?” She mewls as I thrust into her faster, accepting the soft clutch of her cunt as an invitation for more.
“I crave it. I want you to expect only that from me. Tsaritsa moya.” She releases a sob. “You like it when I call you that?”
“Da. I love it. Oh, fuck. Maxim. More. Please. Please—”
I can do no less than give her everything she’s begging for.
Especially when, at the base of it, all she wants is me.
I never expected to have her like this. Never thought the woman I wanted for my own would want me in return.
But she does.
I have to give Camille credit—the only reason she agreed to tying Victoria to me was if I courted her.
Now, her pussy clings to me as much as her arms do. When I try to rub her clit again, she won’t release me for long enough to shift my hand. Just holds onto me so hard, so tightly, so ferociously that I know she never wants to let go.
When I come in her, she hums. If she were a cat, I’d say she was purring.
As I fuck my cum into her, thinking about when I’ll get her pregnant, when I’ll fill her with my child, she wriggles beneath me. The movements are happy and sated. There’s no orgasm, but next time I vow there will be.
“Always unique, zaya,” I murmur, enjoying her inhalation as I turn us onto our sides and hitch her thigh higher on my hip so that I can stay inside her.
“Always yours,” she answers like the brat she is, insisting on the final word as she nestles against my chest. Cuddles me.
Fuck.
Like usual, it’s hard to accept her embrace, mostly because I was a child the last time anyone hugged me like this.
I rest my chin on the crown of her head and accept a cold, hard truth—I’m never going to be able to sleep without this again.
Without her.
She’s softness and kindness and gentleness.
She’s nothing that I deserve and everything I crave.
She, more than anything or anyone, is mine.
And I won’t do without her. Won’t be without her.
Ever.
Again.