The Darkness Within

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Deciding that he's more than earned my compliance, I slowly turn around, gratified at the groan that escapes him.

When I face him again, every inch of his face displays desire, and his body is taught with the effort he's using to keep still. He slowly reaches for me again, brushing his hands over the lace encasing my breasts, and gently skimming my panties.

"I love these," he tells me, his voice no more than a dirty whisper as he alternates stroking the material of my bra and panties. "But they're in my way."

With a near blinding speed he finishes undressing me—removing all the lingerie, and my heels—and proceeds to press me down onto the bed. He arranges me flat on my back, kneels between my spread legs, leans over my torso, and then sucks one of my nipples right into his mouth.

I arch instantly, shocked at the pleasure of the action. With each strong pull I feel an answering tug in my core, which starts leaking like a faulty faucet. He cups both of my breasts in his hands, tweaking the nipple his mouth isn't on with two fingers. When I jerk and make a small noise in the back of my throat, he pinches harder, seeming pleased when that draws another moan from me. When his teeth gently scrape over my nipple I nearly black out, the small edge of pain adding to the overall pleasure.

"Perfect," he says when he pulls away. "Absolutely perfect." And then he switches nipples.

By the time he's done with my breasts, they're aching, my nipples pebbled into sharp peaks that feel exquisitely sensitive. My entire body feels like a live wire, ready to explode.

Sergei takes my mouth in another kiss, at the same time that one of his hands travels down my navel, before dipping between my legs. I subconsciously spread my legs further in offering, and jerk when his pointer finger brushes over my clit, before dipping inside of me.

"So beautifully responsive," Sergei muses. "And so fucking wet. God, you're my ideal woman."

His verbal praise prides, excites, and thrills me all at once. Belatedly, I realize that I'm feeling far more than physical sensations, I'm feeling an overload of emotions, and for once that doesn't bother me. I don't pause to analyze every thought as I normally do, too swept up in sensation to do any in-depth thinking.

"I want you wetter," he growls. "I want you dripping, sobbing with pleasure, aching to take my cock."

I never thought dirty talk could turn me on—I've always thought it's crass, a sign of no class—but Sergei's is off-the-charts hot.

"Has anyone else ever touched you here?" he asks me, his voice deceptively casual as he strokes up and down my slit leisurely.

I shake my head.

"Good. I'll be your first and last."

He begins placing wet kisses down my body, only briefly pausing to scrape his teeth over both nipples once again, before settling himself between my legs. I feel my cheeks heat in a strange sort of vulnerability and embarrassment. I keep the majority of my body shaved bare for personal preference, and am always neatly trimmed between my legs, but I'm not sure if that's a turn-off for Sergei. My momentary worry is abated when he literally buries his face in my pussy.

His hands cup my ass to bring me closer to his mouth, and he gives me one slow, long lick against my slit. The pleasure of his hot, wet mouth is insurmountable and incomparable to anything I've ever felt.

I've had maybe a dozen orgasms in my life—all with the aid of either my fingers, or battery-operated friend. Primarily, I just wanted to see if my body could function normally even with the absence of most emotions. All of those climaxes combined can't compare to the sheer rapture of Sergei's clever, knowing tongue.