Page 103 of Scarlet Thorns
When I open my eyes, she’s watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. It’s so intense it makes me uncomfortable, so I turn my attention back to the reason I came here.
I lay her back on the bed, taking my time to kiss every inch of exposed skin. Her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach. She arches beneath me, little sounds of pleasure escaping her lips, and each one goes straight to my cock.
“I want to taste you,” I say as I take one nipple into my mouth, sucking gently while my thumb circles the other. She gasps, her back bowing off the bed, and I file away every response for future reference. Her skin tastes like vanilla and something sweet and addictive.
“Osip, please,” she breathes, her hands threading through my hair.
“Patience,milaya,” I murmur against her breast. “I want to savor this.”
My mouth continues its journey south, placing open-mouthed kisses along her ribs, her hip bones, everywhere except where she needs me most. She’s trembling with want, her breath coming in short pants, and I can smell her arousal— heady and intoxicating.
When I finally settle between her thighs, she’s already wet for me, glistening with desire. I place a gentle kiss on her inner thigh, then another, working my way closer to her center with deliberate slowness.
“Ty prekrasna,” I whisper, my breath ghosting over her most sensitive flesh. “So fucking beautiful.”
With my thumbs, I spread the slick lips of her pussy wide, baring her to me completely. The first touch of my tongue against her entrance makes her cry out, her hips lifting off the bed. I hold her steady, licking and sucking with careful attention to her responses. She tastes like honey and salt, like coming home, and I could spend hours just here, just this.
Her fingers tighten in my hair as I find the rhythm that makes her writhe. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to hit her G-spot while my tongue works her clit. She’s tight and hot around my fingers, her body already starting to flutter with the approach of her orgasm.
“That’s it,” I encourage, my voice rough with desire. “Let me drink you in.”
Her orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her back lifting from the bed as she cries out my name. I work her through it, gentling my touch as the waves subside, pressing soft kisses to her thighs as she comes down.
When she can speak again, she reaches for me, her eyes dark with renewed desire. “I need you inside me,” she whispers. “Please, Osip.”
I tug my sweater over my head, then shed my remaining clothes quickly, my cock hard and aching from watching her fall apart under my mouth. From the taste of her still coating my face. But when I settle between her thighs, I go slow, entering her inch by careful inch, watching her face.
She’s perfect— tight and wet, like a warm haven around my cock. When I’m fully seated inside her, I stop, just breathing her in.
“Nebesa.You feel like heaven,” I tell her, meaning every word.
Her answer is to lift her hips, taking me deeper, and I groan at the sensation. I start to move slowly, each thrust deliberate and deep, our eyes locked together. This isn’t fucking— it’s something more. Something that scares me. Something I don’t want to put a name to.
She wraps her legs around my waist, her hands frame my face, thumbs stroking over my cheekbones as I move inside her.
“Good… that’s so good,” she says quietly, her breath catching as I roll my hips and touch all those spots inside her.
Our rhythm builds slowly, a dance as old as time but somehow brand new between us. She meets me thrust for thrust, her body moving in perfect harmony with mine. The room fills with the sounds of our breathing, our whispered endearments, the slick slide of skin against skin.
When the walls of her pussy start to tighten and squeeze around me, I know she’s close. I reach between us, circling her clit with my thumb as I maintain the steady rhythm that’s driving us both toward the edge.
“Come with me,” I murmur against her lips. “Come with me,milaya.”
Her second orgasm triggers my own, and I empty myself inside her with a groan that rips from my chest. We cling to each other as the waves crash over us, holding tight like we’re afraid the other might disappear. I’ve spilled my seed inside her before, but now, with all that’s at stake, the urge to fill her with every last drop feels like some kind of primal need. I don’t pull out until my balls feel wrung out. Until every last pulse of my shaft slowly subsides.
Afterward, I gather her against my chest, her head pillowed on my shoulder as our breathing slowly returns to normal. Her fingers splay across my chest, and I press a kiss to the top of her head.
“No regrets?” I ask quietly.
She tilts her head to look at me, her eyes soft with satisfaction and something deeper. “None. You?”
“None,” I lie, because the only regret I have is that this perfect moment exists on borrowed time.
But for now, she’s here in my arms, warm and trusting and mine.
For now, that’s enough.
It has to be.
