Only You

Chapter 24

Elora

Alexey gives me his signature smirk that has my stomach reacting in a beat, making my insides burn up and tingle. By now, I know what follows that look and it usually is a mind-blowing, brain-numbing orgasm. My whole skin heats and comes to life at the thought but a small, shy part of me forces my hands to stay locked firmly around his neck, keeping him from moving.

The man atop me doesn't falter, letting his body relax and melt into mine as he leans down to press his full lips to mine. It's a gentle kiss, tender, I'd almost say, and it has me sighing against him. This is rare. Teasing, playful kisses are what we usually go for. Or maybe desperate, intense ones. But this is new. Intimate.

Alexey pulls away too soon and nudges my nose with his. "You want that, Sunshine? Want me to taste you and make you feel good like you did me?" he asks, his voice low and husky. I take a shaky breath, feeling my brain shutting down as I press my lips to his once more. Then I nod, deciding to allow my body to lead and have what it is begging me for.

With my consent, my date starts trailing kisses along my jaw, nipping at the edge of my chin before dipping lower. His tongue licks its way down the curve of my throat, drawing a shiver from me. Before I can feel ashamed of my reaction, I can feel Alexey's lips tip into a smile against my skin.

His kisses turn more intense the longer he pays attention to my neck. Once he is happy with his work on one side, he tips my head and moves his lips to the other, sucking on my pulse point ever so slightly. My whole body jerks with my moan and my hands find their place in his hair, twisting the thick strands.

God, I'm feeling hot all over. If this is my reaction to his mouth on my neck, how will I possibly be able to handle it between my legs?

"Alexey," I whine, writhing underneath him as he bites on a part a little closer to my shoulder before soothing the sting with his tongue. "Please."

"What is it you are begging for, Sweetheart?" he breathes against my wet skin but I am too choked up to find my voice. "Are you asking me to stop?" he asks, drawing back a little to meet my eyes. Whatever he sees in my expression makes him smile. "Or do you want more?"

I make a pitiful sound in reply which makes him chuckle bad sadly not continue his way down to his aim.

"Use your words, Elora. You've proved tonight that you can use your tongue well. Tell me what you want from me." Hell, his eyes are staring at me with an intensity that makes me want to drop to my knees and obey his every command. Yet, when I try to tell him just what my aching body is demanding, some mental block stops me.

It's so frustrating I could cry. I try to remind myself of the women in their red dresses. Confident. Strong. Certainly not scared to ask for what they need. I want to be like them. So bad.

My skin starts itching as I lose myself in my head and my eyes prick again with tears of frustration. What is wrong with me? Why can't I just get the words out?

Two warm, gentle fingers engulf my chin and I blink a frowning Alexey into view, returning to reality. Wordlessly, he leans down to kiss me so sweetly it makes me want to cry all over again. God, I'm an idiot.

As the kiss goes on, I try to shake my destructive thoughts off and remind myself that I'll have to wait for days until I get to see Alexey again. This is my chance to let him return the favor, no? I should let him do that. Especially when he says he gets pleasure from it as well.

One of his hands finds my side, running his warm fingertips over my bare skin through the cutouts in my dress while his other arm holds him up. He massages my skin, squeezing and holding it until I am putty in his hands.

"You back with me?" he finally asks against my lips.

"Yes," I reply, keeping my eyes closed as I rest my forehead against his.

His hand at my side moves further down, briefly ghosting over my covered hip before it finds the outside of my thigh. He runs his knuckles over the goosebump-covered skin all the way up to where my dress has bunched up before trailing them back down. Every time, the tips of his fingers come a little closer to the center between my legs.

I'm shaking underneath him, quivering with uneven breaths as the anticipation kills me. All the while, his forehead stays against mine and our lips remain inches apart.

"Tell me I can touch you," he instructs roughly.

"Please, touch me," I tell him breathlessly. At the same time as his fingers find my wet, throbbing entrance over my panties, he turns his head and kisses my pulse once more. My body twitches underneath him and I fail miserably at swallowing back a moan.

His lips leave my skin just long enough to tell me, "I love how responsive you are." While that alone is enough to make me flush all over, his fingers start rubbing me through my underwear at the very same time. He applies just the smallest amount of pressure before moving up and brushing his fingers over my clit.

It's a ghost of a touch meant to drive someone crazy. He repeats it over and over again until I find myself moving my hips against him, seeking more friction. His chest is pressing down on me, the arm he's leaning all his weight on shaking at my side as my breasts rise and fall against him almost erratically.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, you feel so good underneath me," he mutters in between kisses on my sensitive skin.

I whine in response. It's all I can muster.

When he finally slides the black lace covering my pussy to the side, I'm already hanging on the edge of a release. That's why it barely takes a few rough circles of his fingers around my clit to have my legs stiffening around him as I squirm.

Just when I think I'll finally get a release, the assault on my clit falters and the man's fingers find my entrance instead. He runs his digits up and down my weeping slit and I groan, needing him back where he was just a moment ago.

"Alexey," I protest when he denies me, making him chuckle.

"So eager," he teases me even as his fingers move back to my swollen bud. My whole skin is buzzing, hyper-aware of every stroke and pinch until I think I might cry from sensory overload.

"Please," I eventually start muttering. Over and over again. "Please, let me come. I can't take it." I'm so sensitive. So desperate and I don't even care. I just need some release.

Finally, my date seems to think I've had enough torture because he finds a steady rhythm to massage my clit and sticks to it. With just the right amount of pressure and the right speed, he brings me to the edge once more. Only this time, he doesn't stop.

Instead, he brings his lips back up to mine and swallows my cry as I come. There's nothing graceful about the way my hips buck and grind against his hand or the sound I release. Still, there is no part of me that cares.

Not even as the waves of pleasure subside and my spasms let off. I slump against the bed and feel Alexey move my underwear back into place before his weight leaves me. I don't make a noise in protest, keeping my eyes shut and focusing on letting my breathing even out instead.

There's a soft kiss on my cheek, a gesture I've grown used to as a way of goodbye, and a few moments later, I hear the hotel room door click shut behind Alexey. I keep my eyes closed as I curl up on my side with my knees hugged to my chest and don't open them until the next morning.

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