Moving Target (Target #3)(4)
His forehead scrunches. “That’s not a good thing?”
“It is, but—”A hand on my bare thigh makes me breathless. “What are you…?”
“Giving you what every woman needs, but you have to tell me you’re okay with this.”
His hand inches up higher and higher, until he’s underneath my skirt and almost touching me where I’m hot and throbbing.
“Is this what you want?” he asks.
“Yes.”
His fingers glide over me, opening me to him while he pushes my skirt up with his free hand. “Watch me play with you, kotyonok.”
My chin dips, but he stops moving. “Ah-ah. The mirror, love.”
I force my gaze to the mirror, my mouth slowly parting as he begins to rub my clit. Since it goes from the floor to the ceiling, I can see everything. His hand between my legs, my skirt hitched up to my waist. My breasts as he unfastens the top of my dress and the material falls, baring me to him. My nipples are hard points, my cheeks flushed, and I’m so wet I can hear it when he moves.
“Lean back.”
When I do as he says, his head dips, his mouth wrapping around one of my nipples even as one of his fingers slides inside of me. I let out a strangled moan. His name.
He smiles around my nipple before lightly biting the tip.
My back arches.
Eyes close.
He strokes me, sucks me, and whispers how beautiful I am between kisses until I come so hard that I see stars. I fall to pieces. I think I tell him I love him.
His hands are masterful. He’s masterful. There’s no other way for me to describe it.
“I’ve protection, love. Spread your legs.” His magical fingers move away from where I need them, and I moan my protest, but, somehow, I obey him. “Good girl.”
My eyes open. I stare up at him, a little dazed. “Are we going to have sex?”
“Yes.” He swallows. “Unless you say no. You can say no.”
Gripping his cock with one hand, I guide the broad head inside of me and squirm as he stretches me. “I’m saying yes.”
2
Dmitry
I’ve gone mad. This isn’t me. I don’t have sex with strange women. I don’t—
Chloe guides me inside of her and I close my eyes to the pleasure.
I shut my mind off from the madness of it all and simply feel, simply thrust, and focus on the woman beneath me.
My eyes open, taking in everything. The way her dark curls are wildly displayed against the cushions, how her perfect breasts quiver and her pink nipples grow tight, as every inch of my cock is enveloped by a warmth and tightness that is incomparable to every woman before her.
“Madness.” I groan. “Utter madness.”
She leans up, capturing her lips with mine. Our tongues dance, duel… explore and learn. Grabbing her hips, I slam into her, finesse be damned.
She lets out a cry of pleasure, her mouth falling open and she grips my biceps. I haven’t bothered to remove my clothes, but she’s nearly nude, her dress bunched at the waist in an erotic display.
Honestly, this is the height of stupidity. At any moment, that bastard Oleg could find his way in here, put a bullet in my brain, and leave. I’ve pissed him off you see, by refusing to traffic a human being into slavery.
Chloe’s nails bite into me, her hands are on my chest now, moving as if search for a way to touch my skin. Her lips find my throat, her white teeth nipping at me.
“Again.” I thrust harder, picking up my pace and making her tits bounce.
She bites at my neck, my jaw, and my ear. The pleasurable pain nearly makes my eyes roll in the back of my head. I can’t remember the last time I was with a woman, but I am always prepared.
It’s a habit—a hopeful one.
I crave this closeness, this perfect joining between a man and a woman. Crave it so much that I rarely indulge myself.
Chloe wraps her legs around me, sending my cock deeper. If I don’t concentrate, if I don’t think on things that have nothing to do with her tight grip or the tingling in my spine, or the way my balls are drawing up, then it will be over before we really got started.
There’s something about this woman. Her honesty and playfulness mixed with courage. As soon as she walked inside the club, I was drawn to her. Watched her talk and laugh, watched as she took in the scene before her.
Watched as she pretended not to notice me at all.
“Dima,” she murmurs. “I want another orgasm.”
I reach between us, finding her swollen clit. “Anything for you, kotyonok” Kitten. She reminds me of one, with her playfulness.
Rolling her clit between my fingers, I find the exact amount of pressure and contact she needs. Her body tenses, her slender neck arching. She grips my shirt, holding on tightly. Nearly as tight as her pussy.
The buckle of my belt has to be abrasive against her soft skin, but perhaps she likes the contrast. Perhaps she likes a bit of pain with the pleasure.
With my free hand, I hoist one of her legs higher, up and over my shoulder, opening her completely to me. She bites her lip, letting go of my shirt to play with her nipples.
Her head thrashes. She’s on the edge and so am I, but like a gentleman, I will allow her to come first. Even if it will be for the second time.
I ram into her hard and that’s all it takes for her to come apart. A few strokes later, I join her, roaring her name and pouring my release into the condom.