His pumping hips started getting more wild, more disorganized, as if he couldn’t keep the pace straight, as if he was too turned on.
“I’m gonna blow inside of you, so much that when I pull out, all you’ll feel is my cum slipping out that tight little pussy.”
And when he bit my shoulder again, growling like a maniac, I felt my inner muscles clench, my orgasm imminent.
“Ne konchat'. Yeshcho net. Ostavaytes' tam, na krayu. Day mne posmotret', kak ty izo vsekh sil pytayesh'sya ne konchit.”
“Damn it, Dmitry. English,” I moaned.
“Mmm, I like when you have a smart mouth, you beautiful brat.” He dragged his tongue over my mouth. “Don’t finish. Not yet. Stay right there at the edge. Let me watch you struggle not to finish.”
My moans increased, and my entire body lit up.
“You wait until I tell you to come, Claudia. Be my good girl and don’t fucking get off until I give you permission.”
He grunted, and I tried not to focus on how hard he was, how big and thick his cock was as he stretched me.
“Oh God. Please. I can’t, Dmitry.” He gripped my chin and forced me to look at him. His expression was so fervent that I sucked in a shaky breath.
“Tell me who you love.” He rolled his hips, ground himself into me, and I closed my eyes and moaned. I thrust back onto his hard cock, needing to feel all of him up inside of me. “Tell me.”
“You,” I moaned and started lifting my hips, fucking myself against him. “I love you, Dmitry.”
He grunted and groaned. “Poprosi menya konchit vnutr' tebya. Umolyay menya.” His teeth were bared. “Ask me to come inside of you. Beg me to.”
My body clenched and relaxed around him, and as I stared into his eyes, I whispered what he wanted. What I wanted.
“Come in me.”
A low rumble of pleasure left him, and he gave me no mercy. He pulled out and pushed in, throwing his hips back and forth as he fucked me.
And when he placed his palm on my stomach, growling that he was going to put his baby in me, I felt my orgasm crash to the surface so suddenly I saw stars.
“Takaya krasivaya.” So beautiful.
I was still riding that high as I heard skin slapping against skin as Dmitry’s harsh Russian words filled my head.
I felt the bed shake as he slammed his hands down on either side of my head, pistoning his hips, forcing me to take every single huge inch of him.
Another orgasm filled me at the same time he groaned and came, his cock thickening, the hot jets of his cum filling me so I actually felt it.
We might have already had sex before getting married, but this moment… it felt different. It felt profound.
When he collapsed on top of me, bracing his body weight on his elbows so he didn’t crush me, I felt the heavy weight of contentment and pleasure press down on me.
He stayed buried in me for long moments, doing nothing but making out with me until I felt my desire rise once more.
I would have asked him to keep going, but he pulled out and fell onto his back beside me a moment later, panting.
My body was sore. I was sticky between my thighs, my flesh burning in a way that one gets when male scruff scrapes along your inner thighs as he makes you come.
I shifted so I was facing Dmitry and ran my fingers over scars on his forearms, wanting to know their story but not sure if bringing it up, asking, would open those wounds he’d buried deep down.
He placed his hand over mine, stilling my wandering fingers over the marks.
I glanced up at him, my heart in my throat as we held each other’s stares.
He broke eye contact first and rested fully against the bed, staring at the ceiling.
“My father used to beat me. He said it was to strengthen me.” There was a shift in his tone, no hint of emotion. “My scars run deeper than what’s on the surface, than what my ink can hide.”
I moved closer and rested my cheek on his chest. He wrapped his arm around me, his other hand cupping the back of my head before he sifted his fingers through the strands.
“I tried to protect my siblings as much as possible, so I took the brunt of our father’s abuse. After a while it was easy to go deep into myself so I didn’t feel, hear, or experience anything.”
My heart was slowly breaking, but I stayed silent as I listened and let him tell me his story the way he felt comfortable.
“And when the time came, I made sure Leonid Petrov died the only way he deserved. Slow and painfully.”
He stroked his thumb over my bare arm, and goose bumps covered my skin.