19. Gabby #2
His fingers trail over my tummy and then lower. Teasing me. I reach down and grab his hand.
“Touch me, please.”
“I am touching you.”
“You know what I mean.”
He leans down and sucks my nipple into his mouth. And then he finally touches me. His index fingertip slides down my slit. I hold my breath. His fingertip glides lower, parting me with deliberate slowness. I gasp as he finds where I need him.
“Look at you,” Nikolai murmurs against my breast. “All this for me.”
He circles my clit with his thumb while his middle finger slides inside me, thick and hard.
I arch off the bed, and a broken sound tears from my throat.
He doesn’t rush. He works me with patient strokes, curling his finger just right while his thumb keeps pressure exactly where it hurts in the best way.
“You’re tight, baby.” He lifts his head so his eyes lock on mine. “So fucking tight. Can you take another?”
I whimper. “Yes.”
He pushes a second finger inside me.
“Come on my fingers, Gabby. I want to feel it.”
Heat floods my face, but I can’t look away. My hips roll against his hand. He growls. “That’s it. Use my hand. Show me how badly you need it. I’ve got you.”
The second finger stretches me wider. It stings so good. The rhythm builds, relentless but controlled, until my body is shaking. I’m making whimpers and half-formed pleas. He keeps talking me through it.
“There it is. Don’t hold it back. Come on my fingers, baby.”
The pressure snaps. Pleasure crashes through me in a white-hot wave. I cry out, back bowing, my legs snapping closed around his hand. He works me through every pulse until I’m boneless and gasping his name.
Only then does he ease his fingers free, bringing them to his mouth without breaking eye contact. He licks them clean, slowly, like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.
“So fucking beautiful,” he says quietly. “We’re not done yet.”
I can’t see straight. “I did it,” I murmur.
“I did it. And I’m going to do it again.”
He slides off the bed. I watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he unbuttons his shirt. Thank God. I want to see this man naked. He opens it, and I’m blessed with a fantastic view of his chest. Not surprisingly, it’s covered in more tattoos. If I could focus, I’d try to make out what they all are.
But I can’t focus because he’s taking off his pants. The tattoos disappear under the waistband of his boxer briefs.
“Hurry,” I murmur. And then I laugh, because I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
He pushes off his briefs, and I rub my legs together. The sexy V and flat abs decorated with ink are pure eye candy. His erection stands loud and proud.
He stalks toward me. He’s unashamed of his body. He has nothing to be ashamed of.
He climbs on the bed and stretches out on his back, fluffing the pillow under his head.
I watch him, wondering if we’re done.
“Sit on my face.”
The blood rushes straight to my cheeks. “Absolutely not.”
“Gabby.”
“Nik, I will suffocate you. I’m not… that’s not… I can’t just…”
“You won’t.” His voice is patient. “Come here. Now.”
“I don’t think you’ve considered the logistics.”
“What did I tell you downstairs?”
I press my lips together.
“Say it.”
“That I have to give myself over to you.”
“Come. Here.”
My face is burning. My everything is burning. I crawl over his body, thinking I could just slip and collapse on his very large, beautiful cock.
But he has other plans. His hands grab my hips. He pulls me up his body, positioning me over his face as I grip the headboard.
“I think…”
Then his mouth closes over me, and every thought I had dissolves.
He holds my hips in place when I try to shift away from the intensity of it.
His grip is immovable. I gasp as his mouth seals over me.
His tongue drags over me with a slow, deliberate lick that makes my thighs tremble around his head.
My fingers dig into the headboard as I try to hold myself up.
But he doesn’t let me. His hands clamp down on my hips, yanking me lower until I’m fully seated on his face, his nose pressing against my clit while his tongue spears inside me.
“Oh, God,” I whisper.
He groans against my skin, and the vibration shoots straight through me.
He licks and sucks with a hunger that borders on feral, his tongue circling my entrance before flicking up to lap at my clit.
It’s wet and messy and sounds obscene in the quiet room.
I rock my hips without meaning to, grinding on his face.
He rewards me by sucking my clit between his lips, his teeth grazing just enough to make me cry out.
My body is on fire. After years of nothing but my own fingers and shame, this feels like too much and not enough all at once.
He fucks me with his tongue, thrusting it deep, then drags it back to my clit, circling and sucking until my body is shaking.
One hand leaves my hip to spread me wider, his thumb pressing just below while his mouth devours the rest. I’m soaking him, and he doesn’t care.
He moans like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. The sound rumbles through me.
“Nikolai,” I pant, my head falling back.
The pressure builds again, faster this time, coiling tight in my belly.
He doesn’t let up. His tongue is relentless on my most sensitive spot, while two fingers slide back inside me from below, curling against that perfect place.
I clench around them, hips jerking, thighs squeezing his head as the second orgasm crashes over me.
It rips a scream from my throat, and my body convulses as pleasure floods every nerve.
I come hard on his tongue. He drinks it down, licking me through every shudder until I’m limp and gasping, sagging against the headboard.
Only then does he ease his grip, pressing one last slow kiss to my throbbing clit before guiding me back down his body.
I am boneless. He rolls me onto my back and moves over me, his mouth wet, and his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them.
“Fuck, Gabby.” His thumb drags across his lower lip. “Did you feel that?”
I cover my face with my hands. “Please don’t say anything.”
He catches one of my wrists and pulls it away. “You soaked my whole face, baby.”
“Nikolai.”
“Your body came apart for me.”
Heat rushes into my cheeks. I’m mortified. Still trembling.
His fingers swipe through the wetness on his mouth. He brings them between us and licks them clean, one at a time.
“You were waiting for me,” he says. “You just didn’t know it.”
I stare at him, too stunned to answer. He rests his thumb against my lower lip.
“Any time you want that again, you come to me.”
He licks the last trace of me from his thumb. “You taste so sweet.”
I groan and turn my face into the pillow. “I’m going to die.”
His hand closes around my jaw and turns me back.
“You’re my favorite dessert.”
For a moment, neither of us moves. Then he glides over me slowly, settling his weight between my thighs, bracing one hand beside my head.
“I want to fuck you, Gabby.”
I swallow. “Okay.”
He reaches between his legs and squeezes his cock.
I moan at the sight of him gripping himself.
He positions himself at my entrance, his other hand guiding the thick length against me.
I’m still trembling from the last orgasm, and every nerve is raw and oversensitive, but the sight of him holding himself like that—commanding, unapologetic—makes me ache all over again.
“Eyes on me.” His voice is low and rough. “I want to watch you take every inch.”
I nod, my breath catching. He pushes so slowly that it feels like torture and heaven at the same time. The stretch burns. I can’t help the whimper that escapes.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, sinking deeper. “So wet and hot for me. You’re taking my cock so well.”
He bottoms out and stills, his forehead pressed to mine, breathing hard. I’m impossibly full, and the weight of him pinning me down grounds me in a way nothing else ever has.
“Next time,” his voice is dark with promise, “I won’t be so gentle. You’re going to know exactly how I like it—hard, deep, you screaming my name while I ruin you for anyone else.”
The words send a fresh wave of heat through me. He starts to move, each thrust dragging against a perfect spot inside. One of his hands slides under my thigh, hitching my leg higher so he can go even deeper.
“Look at you,” he murmurs against my ear. “Taking me so well. You were made for this, Gabby. Made to be fucked slowly until you forget every bad thing that’s ever happened to you.”
I can’t speak. All I can do is feel his body moving over mine, the filthy praise spilling from his mouth. He’s watching me like he always does. Every gasp, moan, or fluttering of my eyes changes the way he fucks me.
“That’s it,” he says when I start to tighten around him again. “Come for me one more time. Let me feel your sweet pussy.”
His rhythm is devastating. The man’s control is absolute. When I shatter around him, he curses low in Russian, hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge and empties himself deep inside me with a rough groan.
He doesn’t pull out right away. Just lowers himself enough to kiss me slow and deep, tasting like scotch and me. When he finally eases back, he brushes damp hair from my face. His lips touch my nose and then my cheek.
He gets up from the bed and walks away. Before I can worry about what that might mean, he’s back. A warm cloth is pressed between my legs. He cleans me up and then tosses the cloth to the side and slides into bed beside me.
“Stay,” he says quietly, smoothing my hair back from my face. Not an order this time. A request.
I nod, too wrung out and sated to argue.
“For a little while.” It’s the only promise I know how to make.
His arm closes around me, and for the first time in years, I don’t feel like running.