Page 43 of Mikhail Petrov

Without waiting for a response, Mikhail snatches me off the counter, pizza in hand, and tosses me onto the sofa.

“You said pizza and cock, pretty girl, but never specified in what order.”

Shoving my shirt up over my breasts, my words disintegrate when he bites down on a nipple and rolls the other between his fingers. I indulge in his touch, lip between my teeth with every flick of his tongue and how his hard body presses against my pussy. But I told him I wanted his cock, and I wasn’t lying.

I roll us over, and we tumble off the couch in a heap of laughter. Throwing my leg over him, I straddle his torso and lean down to lick where my nickname is inked on his chest.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time,” I say, kissing down the toned lines of his stomach, past his navel, and biting the waistband of his sweatpants where his dick rages to break out.

Mikhail grins and folds his arms behind his head. “Please, jog my memory.”

As I pull at his pants, his cock springs free. There’s a moment of hesitation as I drink in the sight of him and think to myself that the science behind how this particular organ fits inside my body is something to be studied.

Biting my lip in anticipation, I dip to his thigh and brush against his skin. He tenses, waiting for me to make contact, but I choose to have a little fun first.

A trail of soft kisses toward his groin sees him closing his eyes and cursing under his breath. But just as I’m about to graze his pulsing erection, I switch and press my lips to the opposite inner thigh.

“Leah, my cock ain’t gonna suck itself.”

“Leah? I thought we were past that, Mikki. You better ask nicer than that,” I tease with a grin, swiping the precum off his tip and dipping my tongue, fiending for more.

In a flash, Mikhail fists my hair, the sting ripping a gasp from my chest as he pulls me closer while also grasping his dick and using it to slap me hard against the cheek.

“Mikhail!” I half-chuckle and whine. But my protest earns me another cock slap.

Fuck.

The impact vibrates through me, down to my throbbing pussy, making my entire body hum.

Without a moment to recover, he slams me over his dick and pushes to the back of my throat. I gag at the massive intrusion, and it only spurs him on.

“It’s like you’re singing a song for me, moya lyubov’,” he says, guiding my movements and pumping his hips. Through the haze of tears, I see my ruined slice of dinner overturned on the carpet beside us.

Tragic pizza can wait.

CHAPTER 21

LEAH

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My body is on fire. Every inch burning hotter, buzzing as a scream crawls up my throat, unable to escape the confines of a dream. But I don’t want to wake up.

Possibly ever.

It feels too good, too fucking good.

Please, let me die here, I beg, to no one—to everyone.

I rock my hips and let my thighs fall open as an expert devourer of cunts ravages my pussy.

Every cell in my body is electric, the sensation reaching deep, igniting my soul. “Don’t...stop,” I breathe, finally breaking through the veil of sleep.

“Good morning, pretty girl.” His mouth moves against my clit, forcing another gasp from

my lips.

“M-Mikhail...” My voice is slightly hoarse as I lift my head and blink away the last shred of confusion.

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