I found my fingers curled around the elastic of his briefs, but I froze, so unsure in that moment of what the hell I would do, how I’d make him feel good.
I lifted my gaze to Dmitry to find his focus trained on my face.
“I’ve never done this.” I breathed the words, knowing they were almost inaudible. “I’ve never done anything.”
“I know,” he said just as softly, but there was heat in his voice, arousal laced within those two words.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know if I can make this good for you.”
He groaned, and faster than I could expect, Dmitry grabbed my nape and pulled me close. I was off-balance as I braced my hands on his chest, our mouths an inch apart. We breathed the same air. Our hearts ran the same race.
His fingers clenched around the back of my neck, his other one now grasping my waist.
“Leave bruises.” God, the words rushed from me and moved into his mouth. I was unable to stop them, wanted those marks on me so everyone knew I was his.
He grunted and pushed me down on his cock, forcing me to grind against him until I gasped and moaned.
“You could just look at my cock and I’d come.”
I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes, resting my forehead on his. His words were an aphrodisiac. Gasoline on the wildfire inside me.
“Take me out and put that pretty mouth on my dick, sweetheart.” His words vibrated against my mouth, and I pulled back, looking down at the hard length again. The only things that separated me from him were two layers.
Before I lost my nerve, I gripped the top of his jeans and briefs and pulled them down. He lifted just enough to slide the material down to the tops of his thighs. And then I was staring at his cock.
Oh my God.
He was so thick and long. The head was flared and already smeared glossy with pre-cum.
This was the first penis I’d ever seen in person, and although my fingers shook and adrenaline raced through my veins, it wasn’t seeing Dmitry in all his masculine glory that had me hotter than the fucking equator.
It was the fact that he was pierced.
A barbell went through the end of his dick, right behind the flare of it. The silver was topped with twin balls on each end, and the longer I stared at his cock, the more clear fluid seeped from the tip.
“I meant what I said,” he groaned, gripping the base of his shaft with his hand and squeezing. “You keep staring at it and I’m going to come.” He dragged his palm up the length, pushing out more pre-cum. My mouth watered, wondering how he’d taste on my tongue.
I was pretty sure he could read my thoughts easily given my facial expression, because I felt his hand on the back of my head, and a second later he was pushing me toward the crown.
I adjusted myself and moved down his big body, my palms on the mattress on either side of his thighs, his hand holding his dick straight up so it pointed at my mouth.
I felt his fingers stroking the back of my head almost lovingly. But this moment certainly didn’t seem gentle or sweet. It felt wicked and wild, like I was about to throw myself over a cliff and had no idea how I’d land.
“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll just hold you all night.”
I lifted my gaze to his, biting my lip. He groaned and moved his thumb to my mouth, tracing the seam before pulling the flesh down and letting it move back into place. I darted my tongue out, dragging it over the digit. His mouth parted and he rumbled out deeply from his chest.
And then I sucked him into my mouth, licking that finger like I wanted to do to his cock. His hand was still in my hair, now tight in the strands. He pushed his thumb deeper into my mouth, and I swirled my tongue around it, sucking, biting gently.
“That’s it, detka. You do that to my cock.” I sucked harder on the tip and he groaned. “Just like that.” He pulled his finger out of my mouth, and I looked down at his cock. It now rested against his belly, hard and long, the head slightly red from all the blood flow. The tip went past his navel, clear liquid smeared across his six-pack.
I curled my fingers around the root. God, he was so thick that my fingers didn’t touch. I clenched my inner muscles, and when I relaxed, I felt wetness slip from me.
“Go on. Lick me like a khoroshaya devochka.”
I closed my eyes and breathed him in. He smelled spicy and dark from his cologne, with a hint of the soap he used, and an aroma that could only be linked to him. I dragged my tongue over the flared tip, dragging the muscle over his piercing, and licked up the salty flavor of my Russian that coated my tongue.