Where I had wanted to pretend he wasn’t affecting me so deeply, didn’t have me on the edge of desire, one push from completion, his touch took that ability away. Instead of standing stronger, I reached out for him, wrapped my hand around his strong biceps to hold myself up because with each rasp of his finger against my clit, my knees got a little weaker.
“Serg—”
I bit my lip, desperate not to say his name. He was touching me, could feel how tightly I held his arm, could see my nipples pebbled hard, feel the ever-growing rush of moisture that coated my sex. Could probably smell my arousal. There was no hiding how much I wanted him, but I wouldn’t beg.
Instead, I trailed my fingers across the hard ridge of his cock, proud when he flinched, again moaning when he flicked my clit. Touching his hardness was a reminder that I wasn’t in this alone. Driven by that awareness—and the desperate need to touch more of him—I loosened my hold on his arm and worked his shirt up and over his head.
His chest was as perfect as I remembered it, only made better by the fact that I could touch him, and touch him I did, letting my fingers curl in the light hair that covered his pecs, pressing my thumb against the flat nipple, letting my fingers move down over the peaks and valleys of his abdomen.
That touch had been almost playful, but when I reached his pants, the playfulness was gone. He seemed to agree for he dropped his hand from my pussy and watched as I fumbled with his belt, finally getting it open after long seconds that seemed to stretch an eternity. I was much quicker with his pants and soon opened them and pushed them down.
His cock thudded against my thigh when it was no longer trapped, and I sighed hard when I felt his hot, silky skin, the little drop of wetness left behind where his cock had touched me. I locked eyes with him, saw that his were low, heavy-lidded, and gave him a smile of my own.
He returned it, his eyes light with something like a dare. Feeling as turned on as I was, I took it, and wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, squeezing his thick length. He moaned, and I squeezed again, then loosened my grip to stroke up and down his long length, gathering the precum that leaked from him to smooth my path.
With my free hand, I gripped his soft sac, and then, feeling more powerful than I ever had, more than I should, I stroked him, watching as his big body shivered with machinations, his expression growing tighter as his cock hardened even more in my hand.
“Enough,” he said a few minutes later, his eyes dreamy and a soft smile on his face. “When I come, I’ll be inside you.”
My pussy clenched at his words, the sound of his voice, and I moved back as he stepped forward, only stopping when I reached the edge of my bed.
I sat and then lay, and an instant later, Sergei was with me, his long, strong body trapping my softer one between him and the bed. I was surrounded by him, every part of my body touching some part of his. It was the most erotic thing I’d ever felt.
Or was until I met Sergei’s eye, saw the unfiltered desire in them. I arched involuntarily, the need that was driving me insane keeping me from holding still. We were so close that my lips brushed his chin, the rough stubble there sending yet another shiver through me.
I kissed his chin again, but soon he tilted his head and brought our lips together. At the first contact, I sighed out deep, a breath of relief I hadn’t known I had been holding coming out. But then relief was drowned out by passion as Sergei kissed me hard, his lips rough against mine, yet so tender, I thought my heart would burst.
As he kissed me, his fingers, which had somehow ended up entwined with mine, moved lower, raking over my skin and making me shiver. He brushed one finger along the crease of my thigh and then found my hot core, which was dripping for him.
He pushed his tongue into my mouth as he pushed a finger into my pussy, and I almost came. I was wet enough to take him but it had been a long time since I’d had anything but my own fingers inside me, so his thick digit stretched me, worked me open as he teased my mouth with his lips and tongue.
“Please,” I said on a harsh breath. I was close, so close, and the need to feel him had my heart pounding.
“Please what, Daniela?” he said, his warm breath against my ear.
His voice had deepened, changed with his own desire, but he seemed to have some control, something I didn’t. I’d said I wouldn’t beg, but now, the need was too great.
“Please fuck me, Sergei,” I moaned, uncaring of my dignity, uncaring of anything but having him.
He chuckled low, but the sound was cut short as he removed his fingers and nudged his cock against my opening.
“Please…” I said, no longer able to wait, not able to withstand teasing.