Bad Russian 04 Read online

  She’s backed up against the wall. I need her farther down. I pull her ankles. She holds them together. I pull them apart. Her head shakes. She twists, trying to turn.

  “You can’t…” She’s licking her lips and swallowing. She pleads into my eyes, “It’s too big.” She gulps. “Are you going to hurt me?”

  “Not in a bad way.” I pinch her nipple.

  “Ow!”

  It makes me chuckle. “You like that?”

  Reluctantly, she nods. I do it again. She squeals. But this time, there’s a groan at the end.

  All the time she stares, her eyes fixed on my cock. Standing high and proud, like a flagpole it sways and bounces, eager to taste her the juice of her cunt.

  I yank her feet wide apart and grab her jaw. Pull her face to mine. I savor the delicious moment before the kiss.

  Taking her with my mouth, I bring our breaths, our tongues, our rhythms and our racing pulses together. I hold her close. Pull her to me. Open her wet wings with my fingers. Stroke hard, down to the cleft in her ass. She jolts as I massage her soft little ass. Her eyebrows steeple.

  But that’s all to look forward to. Now, for the main event. I lean over her, pushing her back into the silk. Part her thighs. Watch and enjoy the apprehension in her eyes. Take a kiss. Soft at first. Sweet. Then deep. Enveloping. We both know what’s coming.

  “I will make you mine,” I tell her. Her lips press together as she nods. “You will be mine. All mine, forever.”

  She bites her lip. Her eye sparkles. She says, “We’ll see about that part.”

  I tilt my hips, and she grabs my ass. Her breath catches as the crown of my cock presses her wet lips, nuzzling in.

  She shudders. Her eyebrow trembles as the head of my cock strokes and probes along the length of her opening. Then I scrape the underside against her clit. Her knees lift.

  I drop it down. Her eyes widen as I nudge up into the cleavage of her buttocks.

  She wriggles her hips. “Come on.”

  I slap the cheek of her ass. Her flesh yields and rolls. She lets out a sharp squeal. “What’s that for?”

  I grin as I look her in the eye. “Fun. Distraction. Think you’ll get used to it?”

  “I don’t know.” She frowns. “Do it again and I’ll see.” Then, “Ow!”

  “You weren’t ready.”

  “You’re a monster.” She reaches down to grab my cock.

  “Ah-ah,” I slap her hands away. “I’m in charge.”

  “If you’re going to try and shove that huge thing inside me, I should at least be able to get a feel of it.” She looks up, “As it were.” We’re both trying not to laugh.

  “You will,” I tell her. “You’ll get a feel soon enough.” I love how she can laugh, giggle even, and not lose the mood. I never would have believed my queen could be so perfect. Or that I would find her where I did. “You’ll be able to feel it with the most precious, the most perfect instrument in the world.”

  She slaps my ass. Hard. “My mind is the most perfect instrument there is, old man. Old Russian.” Her eyes narrow, “And don’t you forget– OH GOD!”

  Her head drops back into the covers. She jams her eyes shut. Her body trembles. The flesh of her throat reddens. The head of my cock is at her opening.

  Her eyebrows slope and her eyes plead. As she looks up, her bottom lip quivers. She blinks and her mouth opens, soundlessly. Her cheeks glow. I slap her ass, hard this time, as I press her a little more firmly.

  The slick wet velvet folds of her lips cling and pull on the bulb of my cock. Her hips tilt. Up then down. I press. But I stay in her entrance. Her fingers claw in the flesh of my ass. Her heels skeeter and slip as she tries to push back.

  She moans and gasps. I stay in control. The final push will be mine. When she pushes, I pull back. When I push, a little harder, her thighs open. Then they clench and close. And open again. She flings her arms around my neck. Digs her fingers into my hair. Tugs. Bucks and rocks. She’s pulling my head to her. I hold back. I need to see her face. Her eyes. Even when they’re clamped shut. I love the moment when they burst open again.

  “What are you doing to me? What the fuck are you doing?”

  Through a chuckle, I tell her. “I’m taking you. I’m invading your beautiful cunt. I’m claiming you.”

  She groans again. I’m pushing at the last point of resistance.

  I tell her, “You’re mine,” and she grabs my shoulders. She keeps her eyes open. With a grin I tell her, “Now.”

  She shouts as I shove. Her eyes roll. She waves her arms. Her head thrashes from side to side. Her fists bang on my shoulders. My back. Her legs wave and her feet stamp.

  My voice scrapes in a deep roar. “You’re mine.”

  “I’m dead.”

  Her pelvis rocks to pull me in, then pulls back fast. Then again. Again. The soft flesh of her breasts, her whole body, rolls like an ocean, like tidal waves. I push deeper. She stares, wild. Her head is shaking in disbelief.

  I seize her hair. Pull her to me. Kiss her, long, deep, while I slide my cock farther into her. She moves her thighs, trying one position for her legs. Then another. Wider. Down. Around my back. Hammering on the bed.

  As her face twists and her mouth opens and closes, her neck reddens. Channels of heat run up and down her body. I’m not paying enough attention to my own experience. It’s because all I care about is making her mine. I want to know every sensation, every tiny pulse that she has. I want her experience. More than I want my own.

  I have a purpose.

  As I saw and drill into her, changing the angle to make certain that I scrape and press every inch of her inside, I listen. Watch. She’s climaxed twice now. Her juices get freer each time. And each time her beautiful tunnel clamps tight, shudders, clamps again, and then relaxes.

  I hammer harder. Deeper. Another inch or so and I’ll be all the way in. I can’t wait to feel her petals, spread, flattened and slammed against my pelvis.

  Chapter Nine

  Her

  HIS EVIL GRIN STRETCHES as his impossibly huge cock splits me open, ramming deeper and harder. I can’t believe he still has more of that pole than the length that’s stretching me wide right now. I reach down and take a hold of it.

  His torpedo punches in and out of me. My stomach drops when I realize that there still is almost the width of my hand left to go in. My hands are not big, but I can’t get my fingers and thumb to close around it.

  Whatever I try, I can’t get into a position for my thighs to lessen the burn on my sore wings without clamping on him so tight, feeling like he’s ripping me in two.

  All the aches and burns and tears and pain glimmer through the cascades and storms of ecstatic crashing, splashing bursts of intensity. I can’t keep my pelvis from rocking, drawing, pulling, sucking him into me, even when he feels like a sharpened broadsword, slicing me apart. Cutting me in two.

  I push on his chest. I have to move. To sit up. I’ll try that. His eyebrows go up. “Your first time and you want to take charge?”

  I bang my hips along his rail. Oh, God that hurt. I do it again. And again. “Let me sit up.”

  “Yeah.” He flashes that grin again. And that sets me off. How am I going to assert myself when I’m bursting through an enormous orgasm? I try to beat the sides of my hands on him but all I can do is clasp his head to me. His curls spill onto my neck, then my breasts as he moves down to tug on my tits and my nipples, sucking with his mouth, grazing, sometimes nipping. Biting, even.

  All the while, like a machine, like a steam-hammer, he rails and drills into me. As my hips move, he slips lower, pushing steeply up. He scrapes up and along the far front of the inside, the trigger spot, the place that I can hardly even reach myself.

  I groan as he drives me over the edge again. I don’t know if I’ve come this many times in a week before, much less an hour. Or however long it’s been. I still have to move, though. I push on his chest again. “Let me sit up.”

  He rears up. Holds me by m
y waist. Flips me in mid-air like I was a shirt or a tablecloth. I land, open-mouthed and gasping, on all fours. He spreads my knees. Shoves my head and shoulders down.

  “Face down, ass up.” I can’t believe he’s singing that cheesy rap song. I can’t hear it, but I feel the bed shake as he chuckles. I look over my shoulder and he’s doing the Gangnam pose, swaying and slapping his hand from side to side. I crack. We’re both shaking as he runs his fingers over my wet cunt, slipping one inside. Rolling his thumb around the pucker of my ass. The feeling is a thrill, but it gives me a frightening thought.

  “Hey,” I shout, “You’re not thinking of driving that firetruck of yours up that alley are you, mister?”

  He’s laughing hard. “I will, my beautiful love, trust me, I will,” He leans over me, bending down to put his lips near to my ear, “But not until I’m sure I’ve got you pregnant.” He pauses a moment. “Is there any history of twins in your family?”

  I think. Frown. “None that I know of.”

  He spreads my thighs and I twitch. “Mine either.”

  I shout as he starts to impale me again. My eyes water and my voice strains, “See if you can get an FAA license for that thing. You could carry passengers on it.”

  With no warning or formality, he shoves it all the way up. “You’re the only passenger who’s going to fly on this bird.”

  I would tell him I was glad to hear it, if I weren’t on the edge of orbit and ready to pass out. Stretching and clawing, my fingers drag along the silk. His thighs slap against my ass. He grips my hips. Smacks my cheeks whenever he thinks of it. Thank you so much, Mr. Artist-Who’s-Famous-for-being-unheard-of. Mr. indescribable art that makes women’s clothes fall off. Mr. cock like a tree trunk.

  At least he has the good manners to let me finish coming and come down before he says, “I want to look in your eyes when you come. And I want you to see me when I do.”

  “Oh,” I’m hoarse. As he steps off the bed, spreads his feet and lowers me, facing him, onto his shaft – it seems thicker than ever, but I may be getting super-sensitive. Or just super-sore. “Is that likely to happen this week?”

  He pulls my hair. My head is back and his mouth falls on my throat. Kisses and sucks. I feel his teeth. He slips to the side of my neck. I slap the side of his head, “You’re giving me hickeys!” he chuckles.

  “That’s not funny! I can’t go to work in the bar with my neck marked.”

  “Give me a moment.” He moves to another spot. “Just a few more and I can write my name.” His hips thrust and he pierces me higher. I’m giddy. I feel like he’s going to come out of my mouth.

  He crouches. Holds me with his arm along my back. I lock my hands behind his neck. He thrusts, making a roll with his hips at the same time. I stretch my thighs out wide.

  “My beautiful butterfly,” his voice is rasping.

  My emotions roll, head over heels in a slo-mo tumble-dryer. “Nikita,” my head shakes. I try to grip with my thighs, but my co-ordination is gone. It’s like I’ve turned into a jellyfish. All I can do is push me around him wherever I can feel him.

  He’s not losing co-ordination. Pumping hard, his rhythm is beautiful, and flawless. His veins stand out, he’s blowing, and sweat drips off him, but he’s still tuned to my pitch. As soon as I reach a plateau, he holds back. Then, the moment I’m ready, he plows into me. Hard, steaming hot. Relentless.

  His eyes blaze and his Adam’s apple cocks. I bounce into the swell of a higher crest. While I hang, suspended at the top of the wave, he shouts my name.

  Like a boom beneath the ocean, long ripples roll through me. I swell, brim, gasp and then spill. Clinging on, kicking and clawing, shaken from my core, pulsing from the inside and all the way out, orgasmic bursts tumble and spin through me.

  He crouches. Leans. His face in front of mine. His hot breath beats on my neck. His eyes flash, burning into me as I twist and shake.

  The soft folds of my pussy tremble, clench, and pull on his rod, completely out of my control.

  When he shouts, “Yes, Margot, come with me,” I have no choice. I break.

  Our hips slap, hot and wet together. He rolls to pile his cock up into me, I rock to suck up as much of it as I can.

  Deep inside me, his huge beast fattens and pulsates as it hammers. Sudden swellings start at the base, flash to the end. His hot seed comes out and blasts in thick fountains, coating me inside. Again. And again.

  As the dam inside me bursts to let go of the biggest crash of sensation, my body snaps upward. My hips push hard along his pulsing cock, and my arms fling tight around his head. I kiss him, he kisses me, sloppy. Gasping. Frantic. My thighs flap and I yell, desperate to extract all that I can from the moment. And from him.

  Wet, clinging, eager, we fall onto the bed. Rolling together on the soft covers. Hands, arms, eyes all stroking, touching. Fondling. Caressing.

  In his apartment, with his art, in his arms now, in his silk sheets, I somehow slipped into another world.

  I pull a sheet around my wet, hot body.

  “Are you cold?” He strokes my face. My forehead. “My love.”

  “No, I just…” I pull the sheet around me, “I like the feel of your sheets.”

  The way he looks at me. As though he sees all the way inside me. I know that this can’t last.

  An international artist, he’s obviously wealthy, knows how to make his way in the world. I don’t expect a man like him, a man as ridiculously gorgeous as him, to stay interested in me for long. With his arms around me now, his kisses on my face, his soft words in my ear, I don’t care about anything but now.

  Now will do. And I’ll have it forever.

  Now I feel like this hour could be a perfect lifetime.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says, “I never saw a woman like you.”

  My eyes roll, I roll away. “Yeah, I’m really sure that’s true,” I tell him. I prop my head on my arm. “I saw that woman in Deke’s. She would have painted herself on you if you’d let her. She could be a model if it weren’t for that look on her face.”

  He’s almost grinning. It gives me chills to see his mouth work. I want to move closer. I hold back though. Better not get too comfortable. Might feel the breeze too cold on the way out.

  “That’s not beauty,” he says, “That’s just a lot of very expensive pampering.”

  I snort. “You could pamper me with the Gates Foundation. I still wouldn’t look like her.”

  “No. You would still be beautiful. She never will. Anyway, I don’t care about her. Or about anybody else. Nobody matters to me but you.”

  I take a kiss from his lips. “And I’m sure you’ll feel that way for the whole rest of the day. Maybe even some of the night.” I pull his bottom lip with the tip of my finger. Let it pop back up. “I wish I could stay all day and enjoy it.”

  A beep sounds from the other room.

  He’s getting up, but he looks back at me. “All day? I want you to stay forever.” I could certainly stay with his eyes on me like that for a very long time. If only.

  He pulls on a purple robe and kisses me before he goes out. I guess it’s maybe the food arriving. Damn, I realize all of a sudden, but I am starving.

  Chapter Ten

  Him

  ELLIS, THE DOORMAN, IS in the elevator with the sandwiches, fries and Thai delicacies. He fights back a grin, seeing me in my robe. He was watching from the front desk when I brought Margot into the building.