11. Isabela #2
I take the cloth from where he's left it and I work as gently as I can, cleaning the blood from around the wound while the water carries it away pink down the drain. My free hand rests flat against his back to steady myself, and I feel him go rigid under my palm, every muscle drawn tight.
He's rock hard now, and his jaw is clenched in concentration.
And I know I'm too far gone to back away or lock this desire back up where it came from.
I drop the cloth and lather my hands, working the rest of the blood off his skin until he grabs my wrist and guides my hand to his dick, gently wrapping his hand around mine along his girth and stroking.
The shock of it sends a jolt of arousal through my body, lighting a blaze in my core that won't be quenched without release.
And as I tighten my grip and keep stroking him, his hand leaves mine to cradle my cheek briefly before locking in my hair.
Demin forcefully pulls my head back, exposing my neck for his teeth to sink into my soft flesh and eliciting a moan.
He holds my hair tight in his fist, keeping me exposed while his other hand slides down my wet body. Water cascades over us as I pant, my fingers still wrapped around his thick length. "Shit," I hiss, feeling fireworks explode across my skin as his fingers find my core and rub.
"I saved you so I could have you. Do you understand?" he growls against my skin. "No one else touches what's mine." At this very second, I fully agree. I don't want anyone else to touch me. I want him to touch me and my hips rock into that touch as proof.
His mouth claims mine in a possessive, demanding kiss, and I moan into it, my body pressing closer as his tongue sweeps in. He gropes my breast, thumb circling my nipple until it hardens, and I arch into his hand, panting harder with each firm squeeze.
"Fuck," I moan, clutching his shoulder. He shifts, backing me against the cool tile without breaking the kiss and his fingers trail lower, gripping my hip to pin me in place. I whimper as he pulls my leg up around his waist, opening me to him.
"This body belongs to me," he says between kisses. His voice is so thick with lust, I'm not sure he even realizes what he's saying, but I love it. It's pushing every button I have. "Every inch. Say it."
I pant, nodding as his hand moves between my legs.
He can fucking own me for all I care. I'm on fire, needing him inside me.
"Yours," I breathe, moaning loudly when his fingers stroke me.
He rubs my clit round and around, then dips lower, pushing one thick finger inside.
My walls clench around him and I whimper, hips rocking forward.
He kisses me harder, groping my ass with his other hand while he works me open. Another finger joins the first, stretching me as I moan and pant against his mouth. Pleasure builds quickly, my body trembling under his touch.
"You're so fucking wet, Milaya," he murmurs possessively, curling his fingers deep. "I could drink from you for days." I have no clue what he's saying when he speaks in Russian, but it's hot as fuck. It makes my body want him even more.
I moan louder, grinding against his hand as waves of heat roll through me. He keeps kissing me, claiming my mouth while his fingers thrust and his palm grinds against my clit. My breaths come in short pants, body tightening as he pushes me closer to the edge.
"That's it," Demin growls against my ear possessively. "Come for me, Isabela. Let me feel this pussy squeeze my fingers."
My moans break into a whimper as the pressure builds unbearably. My walls flutter around his thick fingers, and he keeps the rhythm steady. "Good girl," he praises, nipping at my jaw. "So fucking perfect for me."
Everything snaps. My orgasm crashes over me in deep, rolling waves. My body locks tight around his fingers, pulsing and clenching rhythmically as intense pleasure floods through every nerve.
Heat surges from my core outward, making my thighs tremble and my toes curl, and I pant rapidly, moaning with each powerful contraction that milks his fingers. My vision blurs as the release drags on and on and I realize my hand is still wrapped around him, no longer stroking.
Demin watches me intently, his dark eyes burning. "Look at you…" His voice is thick with approval. "Coming so beautifully on my hand. God, you're intoxicating, aren't you?"
I whimper softly through the aftershocks, body shuddering as the final pulses fade, leaving me boneless and breathless against him. When it's finally all passed, I think he's going to let me stand, but he shocks me by lifting me, pinning my back firmly against the cool tile wall.
I wrap my legs tight around his hips as he grips my thighs with strong hands and pushes into me with one slow, deep thrust. I moan a long, low sound, feeling every thick inch stretch my walls as he sinks fully inside. He fills me so completely that my breath catches.
"Fuck," he mutters, forehead pressed to mine. "Isabela," he moans, and I love the way my name sounds in his pleasure. "Your body feels better than I imagined."
"Are you saying you fantasized about me?" I smile as his lips claim mine, but his own sound is a growl that rumbles up through his chest and into my mouth.
He starts thrusting, driving deep with each stroke, and I cling to his shoulders, panting hard as intense pleasure sparks through my core with every thrust that bottoms out inside me.
To know he was thinking of this before this moment is no news to me, but hearing it only makes me appreciate this more.
God, he's intoxicating and his dick hits every spot inside me that I crave.
"Mine," he growls again, fingers digging possessively into my ass. "This pussy… mine."