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I tried not to take notice of how good he looked wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, hanging low on his hips, his abdomen tight and ribbed with muscle, his pectorals defined, his arms positively huge.

And then there were all those tattoos. He was gorgeous. Beautiful. And I most certainly shouldn’t be thinking these lewd thoughts about how he looked naked, and how he felt inside of me.

It had just been so long since he touched me the way I desperately needed him to.

I moved forward and came to a stop in front of him, but didn’t miss the way he watched me limp closer, how his eyes became darker, his mouth thinner. He was my protector.

I didn’t know why his focus affected me so much, but I felt my nipples tighten and gripped the terrycloth towel that covered me.

I found myself moving closer and closer still until I stopped a couple of feet from him. He looked so unaffected as he stared at me, but I could see the rapid beat of his pulse at the base of his throat that told me he was getting just as worked up as I was.

And when I glanced down at his lap and saw he was hard, his cock a thick, long rod hidden behind his jeans, I felt my breath start to come out a little quicker.

“Why haven’t you touched me?”

“I have. I hold you every night, sweetheart.”

I could see on his face he was purposefully trying to appear like this moment didn’t affect him. I knew it did.

“You know what I mean,” I whispered. His fingers dug tightly into the faded and worn fabric of the armrests.

He wanted me but he was fighting it.

I loosened my hold on the towel, allowing the cloth to pool at my feet, letting Kostya see every part of me. He didn’t waste a second letting his gaze travel up and down my body, his focus landing on my bare pussy, then over my abdomen, finally looking at my breasts, before staring back into my eyes.

But still he looked like he was almost… bored.

And truth be told, I found his indifference to me standing naked in front of him such a turn-on.

“Don’t you want me anymore?” Those words were hard as hell to push past my lips.

“Come closer, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice so rough and deep, cutting over me like a blade. I wanted him to open me up. I wanted him to bare every part of me until there was no me or him. There was just us.

I didn’t move those last couple of inches to bring me right in front of him to where my legs brushed his, to where his scent would envelop me and all I could feel and scent was Kostya.

“You think I don’t want you?”

I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and slowly shook my head. “I don’t know what to think after everything.” My voice caught at the end. I didn’t want to break down. I’d done enough of that over the last week, stealing away into the bathroom to cry silently in the shower, hoping Kostya didn’t hear.

He leaned forward and braced his forearms on his thighs, staring up at me with dark, unreadable eyes. “I’ve never been as starved when you’re near, then when the very thought of you crosses my mind.” He sucked on his teeth for a second before lowering his focus and staring for long moments right at my pussy. “I’m ravenous for you.” He flicked his gaze back to my face. “Now, come here and let me show you how much.”

I took a step closer.

He reached out and curled his hand around my waist, digging his fingers into my flesh that I gasped in pain. My pussy got wetter, my arousal coating my inner thighs so they slicked together.

“I’m going to leave marks on you.” He dug his fingers into me harder, proving his point.

“Yes,” I whisper-moaned.

“I want there to be marks so I can look at your naked body, run my fingers over the purple and blue marks that mar your pale flesh, and know you’re mine.”

He yanked me forward until I stumbled and had to brace my hands on his wide, muscular shoulders.

“Climb up here, baby. Straddle me.”

I glanced down at his crotch, watched as he used a free hand to pop the button of his jeans undone, then pulled down the zipper.

My heart felt like it was a tiny bird fluttering in my chest as I climbed up and did what he said, my legs on either side of him, the width of the chair too small to allow much of any movement.

Aside from going up and down as I fucked myself on him.

I kept my focus on his hard cock, the tip glossy as pre-cum was a constant out of the slit.


Tags: Jenika Snow Erotic