51. KAVI

51

KAVI

He carries me to his bedroom, placing me down on obsidian sheets.

The difference in our heights with me half-lying down and him standing over me makes our lips pull apart. My spine melts into the mattress. I lie down and look up at him.

Since he's wearing those silver rings again on his knuckles, I watch them shift in the light as he finds the base of his stiff bulge through his pants, squeezing. His tendons stand out. Pink slashes across his cheekbones.

"If you want me to stop," he says through clenched teeth. "Or if you don't like something that happens, will you tell me?"

The fact that I'm splayed out here, basically panting, I would think my desire was obvious. I smile.

His expression tightens as if he's using everything in himself to hold back. "I'm going to need a yes from you, Princess."

I palm my clothed pussy and hold my hand there. I turn my head to heave a breath in for the yes?—

And see them. His glasses.

NO.

I forgot about them.

"What is it?" Dmitri demands to know. "Something went through your head. What is it?"

He's moving fast to investigate, scouring the table until he sees. His fingers pluck up the frames.

He holds them up in the light, and then slowly slides them on.

Thick-framed, as black as his dark waves, in the same tonal family as those inked arms. Nerd-jock-sex-god-bad-boy. It's an implosion. My thighs clench so hard my knees clack.

Now he's back, looking down at me. His height blots the overhead light. It should be sinister the way his shadow swallows my body, but the slickness between my legs tells me I love it. He's so—so—big, and overpoweringly there. Dark strands fall off his forehead. Those glasses make his golden eyes more looming and serious, fully focused on me.

A muscle in his jaw leaps. "Tell me, lo—Kavi. Was that a yes?"

"Yes," I practically yell.

"Good. What makes you come? I need to know."

I'm so horny he could ask me anything and I'll answer. "My fingers…"

"And?"

"My fingers."

His head slants. He's mulling my answer over. I wriggle, not trusting myself to coherently explain that Tyler could never figure out how to be as good as my hand. That I am the kind of woman who needs ages of stimulation with someone else, but can mysteriously come within minutes by myself. That so many nights I blamed it on myself when Tyler found out, calling my pussy shy in an apologetic voice, playing it off as a joke.

Sorry it's being shy today. Sorry for not being able to fully relax and mentally go all in. Sorry to myself… for being so sorry… but I can't help but be sorry.

Dmitri's hands rest on my thighs. "Come closer."

My pussy clenches as he wriggles me forward, my legs finding the edge of his bed, dangling. Dmitri bends, gathering the band of my shorts in his hands. He pulls them down my legs until I'm exposed. One of his fingers comes to feel the fabric of my panties. His breath is a hiss. "Drenched."

From this angle, his erection and my core can join. All he has to do is push cotton to the side, unzip himself free, and then push into me. It's all I want. That's all I need.

Instead, Dmitri grabs a pillow and kneels. One knee is propped on the pillow and the other is not. Before I can figure out why, palms push my legs wider.

"You don't have to," I say, reaching out. "I'm ready. I'm wet enough." Clearly.

My hand is caught by his and brought down to his hair. "No, I'm going to be here for a while."

A while?

He pulls my panties off, hooks his arms under my thighs and buries his face into my pussy.

I expect him to sample first, to see if he likes the taste of me, or to start slow and measured as he licks, but no.

Just—no.

My back arches off the bed. I'm squeaking, gasping, wriggling. He's sucking on my lips, my entrance and on my clit like it's not enough.

There's the kind of oral I've gotten used to. Perfunctory licking for a few minutes before the main event starts. This is not it.

I screech out his name. Dmitri won't budge, no matter how heavily my legs lean on his shoulders. He's lapping me up from top to bottom, making noises. Moans. Desperate groans of bliss. The glasses lift. That's how much his face presses into my pussy as if he wants to drown down there.

And just when I think it can't get better, he starts tugging my lips and clit upwards and then letting go, whispering in between. "So pretty… such… a…. pretty… pussy… pretty… delicious… pussy… so pretty… so… fucking … good …"

My fingers spasm and my spine curves. I don't think I can take this intensity, but I also can't bear him stopping.

Pleasure scorches me. I'm gasping. "Dmit—I can't believe—you?—"

"So good, Kavi," he moans. "You're so delicious."

He widens my legs and lifts one, so his tongue can dive deeper. "Hold out for me, baby. Let me keep eating you. Let me have this—thank you, Princess?—"

I whimper. My legs are starting to shake… and I can't believe it. He shifts his mouth sideways so the flat of his tongue can swoop full lengths against my clit. The way he won't stop?—

He's fucking me with his mouth, making those hungry noises as if I'm gifting him this instead of the other way around. And for some reason, that only drives me wilder. My fingers pull his hair, urging him.

I suddenly don't care how long it's taking. I'm not wondering if he's comfortable or how I look down there from that angle. My hips grind, pushing myself across his mouth. "Please. This is what I need. You. Don't stop?—"

He doesn't. There's no pulling back or getting tired. Dmitri devours me without break. He suckles and licks and tongues, and my whole body shudders violently against his onslaught.

And then, without warning, I break, shocking myself. I'm scattered. Blissed. My thoughts are drivel. Not only has Dmitri eaten the fuck out of me, but I've fucked the hell out of his face. And he let me buck. Go feral.

Like he needed it. Like he was starved for it. For me.

My nerves frazzle. It's so hard to go back down. I'm lost. How did he do it? How did this happen? I blink repeatedly to focus when he moves. He's standing, my arousal all over his disheveled face. My jaw drops. The glasses are smudged completely.

It's the sloppiest, sexiest thing I've ever seen.

He slowly takes the frames off and cleans them with the edge of his shirt. Then he puts them back on. I make another noise of pleasure. His mouth curves slightly to the side. My favorite little smirk.

My hips jerk when he goes back down to his knees. "W-what?"

His mouth comes to hover above my pussy. "Again. Please?"

"I—I don't think. I'm not sure if I can come again."

His tongue slowly parts me. "But will it feel good?"

He licks gently, golden eyes watching me closely. I whimper out a moan, shivering at my sensitivity.

"Yes," I whisper.

It does feel good. But what's in it for him? He's accomplished the impossible already. I've come apart on his mouth, but he wants to keep going?

"W-why?" I ask.

"Didn't I tell you already? I could live between your legs."

My heart—my confidence–my swirling, emotionally battered chest?—

It's opening and softening. Dmitri. What is he doing to me? I feel so wanted as he tastes me. My brain drenches in soft pleasure as he carefully takes me again with his mouth.

Pretty soon, I'm murmuring. "Please… please… please…"

The orgasm isn't close. I'm not someone who shoots off like a rocket back-to-back, but it doesn't matter because this is a fluttering descent into the most maddening spiral. Big palms press down on my quivering thighs. He pets me, massaging the muscles until I'm liquid. I can't—I can—it feels soooo good?—

I thread my fingers through his hair and tug until his mouth lifts off me. Haven't you had enough? I want to ask him. I don't, but say something I've never said to another man before. "I'm—empty. Please. "

It's a broken plea that makes him lose it. His whole body ruts once. A barely human noise rips out of him. "Please what?"

"Fuck me."

Dmitri is on me before I can blink, lifting me farther up on the bed to make room for himself between my legs. I'm on my back.

"I'm on birth control. Tested and in the clear," I babble.

"Me—too." His voice is barely understandable, it's roughened so badly.

"I'll be good to you," he says, as if I'm the one who needs convincing, not the one who is begging to be filled.

"Please, Dmitri."

We're being so polite, needy and desperate to each other. My pleas have him moving. He starts shedding his clothes. First, his shirt is unbuttoned and tossed away. Then he works to take his pants off, pulling the zipper down over the stiffness in his pants. A desperate drum of need pounds inside me with every inch of skin revealed. I don't even have time to admire the view of his sprawling chest, for he pulls out another view that has me nearly choking.

His cock is thick, long and upright on his belly, taking up so much space. I exhale and my hips lift as if I can't handle it not being inside me already. "It's—a lot?—"

Dmitri fists himself, closing his eyes briefly, like he needs a minute to control his hunger. And then he gets to work, rearranging me so he's behind me with his legs extended out. My back presses against his front. I feel his cock between the globes of my cheeks.

This feeling. It's so fucking delicious, especially when his arms band around my waist, and he lifts me so I'm higher on his stomach. His cock comes out on the other side, rubbing against my seam. The shaft bumps into me. Once. Twice. Three times.

He's doing it on purpose.

"Just the tip," he croons. "You can take that, right?"

"Yes," I cry out.

"Good girl." His head sinks into me. And then it comes out, nudges my clit, and sinks into me again. I'm nearly wailing, because he does this move over and over again.

What—How—How is he not dying?

In all the games I've watched of Dmitri—and by now I've seen many—he's stoic even when body-checked into the boards. Pain is nothing. He once told me his body was a bruise so nonchalantly with the flattest of eyes as if it was entirely obvious.

The difference between his height and mine means I can turn my head and catch his expression.

I do.

My insides reel. Clench. Weep.

He's dying. My heart thumps hard against my chest when I see how tortured ecstasy bleeds into every line of his strained expression as he only lets the first two inches of his cock enter me. His cheekbones stand out. There's a glassy look to his pupils.

I thought I felt wanted before? That explodes into ferocity. Every second I see how ravenous but controlled Dmitri is, a chord in me tightens. I didn't think I could come again, but I… could?

It's not enough though. I need more.

That's why I grip his hands, the ones that have been controlling how much we join. My fingers tighten and with more boldness than I've ever shown before, I push back and sink completely down on him. His length is impossible, but I'm so wet. I use all my weight and take him to the hilt.

"Fuck!" he snarls.

My breath out is a whistle. "I need all of you. More, more, more…"

My chant makes him snap. Suddenly, he's fucking me properly, lewd smacking filling the room as his length relentlessly stretches me.

My breasts bounce faster and faster. I'm mindless. I don't come like this, but I feel it. The pull of an orgasm, pressing down on me, but still not close enough to touch. The corners of my eyes leak tears.

"I want to, but I won't come," I mumble, trying to make him understand. He's big and I'm stuffed by this thickness, but it's overwhelming.

"What do you need, Princess?"

"You."

He won't get what that means. I barely get what that means. But maybe he does, because he starts talking.

"You get me. You have me. Try. Will you try for me? Otherwise, I'll fuck you with my tongue again. Did you like that? Because I fucking loved it."

My pussy ripples on him. He can feel it. I know because he groans his satisfaction. "Good girl. Take it. Take me. You have no idea how much I want you."

I'm gasping and clenching again. Desire grows hotter inside me. His words are what it takes. The dirty talk. All I can do is moan, "Pleaseeee."

"Beg me, Princess. Tell me I can tie you up and keep you in my bed. That you'll let me have you. Can I fill you with my loads? Every morning and night, I'll feed your pussy with my cock. Would you like that? Do you want my cum to drip down your legs?"

My eyes flutter shut. They might be rolling back. The shakes are starting again.

"That's it, love. You can take it a bit more. You're doing so fucking good. A little longer."

Every roll of his hips has him fucking me, thrusting his cock in and out.

"Just one more orgasm, Princess. Give me one more. We'll get there together. Do you think you can do that? Tell me it feels good."

"I'm so full. So full."

"Is that what you want? Do you want to be full of me?"

A tear drops down my cheek. That chord that's never come alive like this before strums tighter.

My emptiness is all gone. I'm sore. Being used. And it feels so good.

"I can spend all night inside you," he promises. "Every night, Princess. Do you know that? Look at you taking me like this. Look at you taking my cock."

My toes curl.

"Tell me what you need. I'll give it to you. I'll give you everything. Let me have it, love. Tell me everything you need."

Him.

The answer shakes me, and my chord snaps. I come, shuddering and shuddering and shuddering on top of him. My limbs are quaking as his thrusts lose rhythm and become frantic. He doesn't last long, filling my pussy with warmth.

Dmitri's face buries into my hair as he groans and grunts.

There's a few last strokes as he fucks his release deeper inside me, and then everything stills.

Before my eyes close, there's a final thought that crosses my mind.

What I absolutely need…

When did it become him?