Right when I was on the verge, he stopped sucking. “Your sweet little clit couldn’t be more swollen. Woman, it does throb.”
“No more teasing, Dmitri!”
He sank his finger inside me, curling it as he’d done last night. “Tell me you belong to me.”
Instinct whispered not to. He would take my words to heart, considering this some sort of real promise to him. “Let me come!”
“You will be mine, Vika.” He worked in another finger. “Tell me you belong to me. Say the words.”
Desperate, I told him, “I really, really, really think you should fuck me now.”
“Nyet.” He gave a hungry suck on my clit.
The more I lost control, the more I talked. “Then l-let me give you head. I need my mouth on your cock. Dmitri, untie me, and I’ll suck it so good for you.”
His voice sounded crazed as he bit out, “Would you swallow my cum?”
“Yes!” I craved to take him down. Needed to be as wicked as he was. Comprehension: I crave his cum.
“Say the words!” His brows drew together in pain. “And I’ll give it to you.”
My fists clenched again. “Okay, okay! I belong to you.”
“If you want to come again, say them like you mean them.” Another brief suck.
My head thrashed. “I belong to you!”
“Again!” He licked and fingered me at the same time.
“I belong to you!”
“Tell me I own your body. No one else is ever to touch it but me.”
I babbled something to that effect. The body he wanted to own was levitating.
“Who owns you?” A graze of teeth . . .
“You do! YOU DO!”
“Beg me for your orgasm.” He sucked me hard—
Too late. “Oh, oh, GOD!” Just that command had set me off. I bulleted into yet another climax, screaming his name.
Sensation racked me, spasm after spasm . . . until I couldn’t take it anymore. Still he licked, consuming me. “Please, no, PLEASE!” Need safe word! What was my—
“Cognac!”
With a growl of displeasure, Dmitri relented, drawing back. If he’d looked crazy before, now he appeared in agony and crazy, his amber eyes wild with lust. His dick was so engorged, the head was plumped up around that piercing.
As I leveled off, I wanted only one thing: my mouth on him. Between breaths, I said, “Untie me. Dmitri, I need to suck you off.”
He straddled my waist, all rippling muscles and whipcord sinews. Voice a harsh grate, he said, “Too late, ángel.” He fisted his shaft, bringing the head an inch from my mouth. “Open for me. Take my cum like this, and it will be etched into my memory.”
When I opened, he aimed for my tongue. “Look at me,” he groaned. “Keep—me—here.”
Don’t know what that means. But I looked up at him. Our gazes locked, and time seemed suspended. The moment was electrifying, made even more so because we were staring at each other, exposed and exposing, both awaiting his pleasure.
A single pump of his big fist wrenched a bellow from his lungs and his hot cream free.
I never looked away as it spurted between my lips, landing on my tongue. His agonized expression transformed into one of ecstasy, his eyes gleaming gold.
Only then did he break his stare, to throw back his head and roar so loud the walls seemed to shake. Fist flying up and down his cock, he jacked it for more.
I eagerly took every drop. Never get enough of him. . . .
As he emptied himself, his hand slowed and his yells faded. With his mighty chest heaving, he gazed back down at me.
Only then did I swallow with a moan.
His bewildered groan made my toes curl.
A pearly drop remained on his pierced crown. I couldn’t help it; I eased forward as far as my bindings would allow and lapped it up.
“My God, Vika.” He shuddered. “My God.” He dropped back in the bed, sprawling across the mattress.
CHAPTER 18
“Um, Dmitri?”
Eyes closed, sucking in lungfuls of air, he held up a finger. “Minute.”
I wondered what he’d meant when he said, “Keep me here.” The second time he’d told me that. Was it some kind of Russian thing?
When he finally faced me again, he didn’t bother hiding his amazement. “I had heard a man could spend so hard he saw stars, but I never believed. Vika, that was a detonation.”
Instead of waggling a sore jaw, he licked his lips, gaze hooded. “And you’d thought to deny me that?” With effort, he made it back to his knees. His hands were unsteady as he loosened one of the belts.
“I wish I’d had something to do with getting you there.” I straightened my leg, wincing a little at the pinpricks.
He began massaging them away. “You mean beside your taste, your scent, your moans? Your response wrested that pleasure from me. Speaking of which . . .” A look of pure masculine pride lit his face. “Shame you can’t come from oral sex.”
That look. “You’re really hot when you’re insufferably proud and cocky.”
He unbound and massaged my other leg. “I am proud—to have pleasured you thoroughly.” He leaned over to untie my wrists, his semihard dick wagging in front of my face.
Need. He’d told me he wanted to make a woman like me addicted to him. Was I already there?
Once he’d freed me completely, he asked, “So how many times did you get off?”