Page 49 of Cruel Russian Monster
I licked my lips.
His chest and abs were chisel led. His body bore the cost of survival, lined with scars, that made me want him even more.
The graveyard tattoo I remembered from years ago had grown. Once contained to his shoulder and upper arm, it now spilled across his chest like creeping vines, curling over his heart.
My gaze dropped as he unfastened his jeans and shoved them down with his boxers.
Fuck.
Just as I remembered…long…thick…and engorged.
I bit down on my lower lip as I felt juices running from my throbbing pussy lips.
And he hadn’t even touched me yet.
He moved over me, and I held my breath as he settled between my legs. He dragged his knuckles up the inside of my thigh, lighting every goddamn fuse in me.
He kissed the soft skin above my knee, then his mouth trailed over the inside of my thigh, teasing. I wiggled below him to shift him; he knew damn well that wasn’t where I wanted his lips to be.
He looked at me and winked.
“Jaroslav,” I whimpered, my hips twitching beneath him. “Please…”
He slid his hands beneath my thighs, spreading me wide, and lowered his mouth again.
When the broad, flat stroke of his tongue finally met my pussy, I choked out a gasp and arched off the bed. One taste, and he was locked in, feasting on me like a starved man.
His tongue and lips moved in perfect rhythm, teasing and taunting. When his fingers joined, I grabbed a fistful of hair and moaned. They curled against my G-spot as his mouth worked on ravishing my clit. It wasn't long before my legs were shaking, and I was seeing stars.
I blamed this on the fact that it’d been a long time. That was the only reason my body was reacting like this. It had nothing to do with how dangerously skilled Jaroslav was.
It wasn't long before I squeezed my eyes shut and a guttural moan ripped from my throat as I shattered, pulsing around his fingers. He didn’t stop until I was completely undone, soaking his hand, his mouth, every damn part of him between my thighs.
When I opened my eyes again, my chest heaving, Jaroslav was watching me, a smirk playing on his glistening mouth.
“Things never change, do they, malishka?”
He crawled up my body and kissed me deeply. I tried to reach for him, needing to feel and taste him, but he caught mywrists and pinned them above my head. His lips found my ear, then my neck, and I tilted my head, giving him access.
Then I felt him at my entrance.
He pushed just the head inside, and I tensed. But nothing else happened. When I realized he wasn’t going to pound into me like some impatient jackrabbit, I exhaled and relaxed.
“I’ll never intentionally hurt you, malishka,” he whispered, his hot breath dragging across my skin.
Then, inch by inch, Jaroslav sank into me. And when his balls pressed against my ass, we both groaned.
Then he slowly rocked in and out, allowing me to adjust to him. When he finally let go of my wrists, I gripped his biceps as his hands slid over my body, stroking, teasing….my pleasure and breathing climbing fast as one hand pressed against my clit.
He growled, “You’re not allowed to cum yet. If you do, this won’t happen again.”
Stunned by his words, I just nodded.
Then he changed the rhythm.
Jaroslav began to slam into me, and his fingers assaulted my clit ruthlessly, his eyes locked on mine. I moaned, whimpered, breath caught in my throat. I wanted to beg, plead for him to let me cum.
Every time my legs flopped weakly to the sides, he fixed them, planting my feet flat against the mattress, keeping me open for him.
