Page 78 of Endless Obsession

I could still stop this now, if I wanted to. But I can’t tell him this isn’t what I want—because the commanding tone of his voice, the way I can see him looking at me…this is all what I’ve fantasized about. What I wanted, when I realized at Masquerade that there were things I’d been missing out on all my life.

I reach down, undoing the first button of my shirt. Ivan’s gaze falls to my breasts, watching as I undo each button, that hungry look deepening with each sliver of skin that my shirt reveals. I go slowly, realizing as I do that I like teasing him. I like watching his jaw tighten as I take a little longer with each button, like seeing that muscle leap in his cheek as he lets out a sharp, impatient breath.

Reaching up, I push the sides of my shirt away, revealing the black cotton bra I have on underneath it. “It’s not very sexy,” I start to say apologetically, and before I can finish, Ivan is on the bed, his hands gripping my knees as he pushes my legs apart and leans over me.

“Never say that.” His hands slide up my thighs, pinning me to the bed, and my pulse leaps, a heady cocktail of fear, anticipation, and desire buzzing through my veins. “Anything you wear is sexy, Charlotte. Because it’s on you.”

“And what if I do say it?” I whisper, looking up at him, a dose of daring added to the mix. His eyes gleam, and his hands tighten on me, holding me in place in a way that’s clearly meant to show me just how easy it is for him.

“Do you like being punished, Charlotte?” he murmurs, raising an eyebrow. “Because I would like to punish you. If you disobey me, I would enjoy teaching you a lesson. Turning that pretty ass pink with my belt, just so I can look at it arched up in the air while I fuck you from behind.” His fingers press against my hipbones, his thumbs sweeping over my denim-clad thighs in an arc, so close to where I want to be touched and still so far away.

My breath catches in my throat. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ve never?—”

“I think there’s a lot you haven’t done.” His hands slide towards the button of my jeans, the look on his face is impatient, eager. “There’s a lot I can teach you.”

With one sharp motion, he flicks the button open with his thumb, yanking down the zipper. His fingers curl in the waist of my jeans and my panties together, dragging them down my hips and thighs in a smooth motion that bares me so quickly it takes my breath away. In seconds, I’m naked from the hips down, and Ivan loops his arms under my knees, spreading my legs wide so that I’m more exposed to him than I think I’ve ever been to anyone in my life.

My face flushes hot as I see him stare directly between my legs. “So wet,” he whispers, and my blush deepens. “Pretty and pink and swollen, all for me. You’re so ready, and I haven’t even started.”

He leans in, sliding down the bed as he presses my legs down to either side. “Keep them there just like this, milaya,” he murmurs, and the way he says it sends pinpricks of heat over my skin, the roughness of his accent on the Russian endearment turning me on that much more. “Keep your legs open for me.”

My head drops back against the pillows, every inch of my body so sensitized with desire that when he touches me, a shudder of pleasure runs through me. His palms are warm on my inner thighs, sliding up, his thumbs brushing over my sensitive folds the moment before he spreads me open even more, revealing all of my most intimate flesh to his hungry gaze.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and then his tongue slides over me, and I forget how to breathe.

It feels so good. Wet and hot, long, slow strokes that seem to lick every inch of me with each pass, as he drags the flat of his tongue over my folds, my entrance, up to my clit, rubbing it over that sensitive, swollen point until I’m squirming and gasping underneath him. I reach down, dragging my fingers through his thick hair, and when I feel him groan against me, I realize that he likes it.

“Pull my hair, Charlotte,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes up to look at me as he drags his tongue over all my most sensitive spots again. “I like it rough, too. You don’t need to worry about hurting me, milaya. I’ll like whatever you do to me.”

It’s as if he’s turned another key in my inhibitions, with that. His mouth fastens on my clit, sucking at the swollen flesh as his tongue lashes over me, and I knot my hand in his hair, hips rocking against his mouth as I ride his tongue. The pleasure is overwhelming, pushing me to the edge, and as he sucks hard at my clit, my mouth drops open on a cry.

“Ivan! Ivan, I?—”

The orgasm hits me before I can finish. My hips buck upwards sharply, grinding on his face as I come hard, my nails digging into his scalp as I scream his name. It’s still pulsing through me when I feel him push two fingers inside of me roughly, curling them as he thrusts hard, still rolling his tongue over my clit until he pushes me into?—

I don’t know if it’s a second orgasm, or a continuation of the first. All I know is that I’ve never felt anything like it. I’ve never felt anything so good.

When I’m limp and gasping on the bed, my other hand knotted in the duvet, Ivan pulls back. His mouth is glistening with my wetness, his eyes dark with lust, and when he rises up on his knees, I can see the thick ridge of his cock pressing against his jeans. “Get that off,” he growls, motioning at my shirt and bra, and I can’t obey fast enough. My eyes are glued to the front of his jeans as I fall back naked against the pillows, watching as he yanks the button and zipper of his jeans open, shoving them and his underwear down his hips. His cock springs free, slapping against his abs as he strips the remainder of his clothing off, damp arousal pearling at the tip.

He’s huge. I felt him against me, but it looks bigger like this, jutting up between his hips, thick and veined and flushed. Ivan looks down at me, his expression almost feral as he moves forward, straddling my body as his hand wraps around his shaft.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he growls, his eyes raking over my bare breasts. He angles his cock down, dragging the smooth, swollen head down the valley of my cleavage, his pre-cum leaving a damp trail as he slides his cock between my breasts. I gasp, arousal flooding me, prickling every inch of my skin as he reaches down, mounding my breasts around the thick length of his cock as he thrusts hard against my chest.

I moan helplessly, unable to stop it. This is what I wanted, for a man I trusted to just take, to fuck me the way he wants to, to ravage my body for his pleasure without worrying about whether he should or not. I want to be used, to be fucked, to be allowed to do the same to the man I’m in bed with in return, and there’s no shame in Ivan’s face as he thrusts his cock between my breasts again, groaning at the sensation as his gaze flicks up to my mouth.

“I’ve wanted to fuck these pretty tits since I saw you in that blue dress the first night we went out,” he growls, his thumbs rolling over my nipples as he squeezes my breasts around his cock again. “But I want your mouth more. Are you going to open your mouth like a good girl, Charlotte, and let me put my cock in there?”

A shudder of pleasure runs through me, my hips arching at the filthy words, my pussy flooded with desire. I’m soaked, wetter than I knew it was possible to be, and I look up at him, nodding.

He lets go of my breasts, his cock still lying heavily against my chest as he reaches up, his thumb pressing against my lower lip. “Open up, milaya,” he murmurs, pushing his thumb into my mouth. “I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. I want to feel how good your mouth is.”

I don’t actually know if it’s that good. I haven’t done this often, and never like this, on my back, with Ivan hovering over me as he angles his cock against my lips. But from the moment my lips touch the swollen head, my tongue flicking out to lap up the pre-cum pearling there, the sound Ivan makes is one of a man on the verge of coming before he’s ready to.

“God, I want to fill your pretty mouth up,” he growls, pushing the head between my lips. “I want to see my cum dripping out of your lips. But I want to come in your pussy tonight. So that will just have to wait.”

The promise of more, of all the things he has yet to do to me, makes me moan again, around the hot intrusion of his cock between my lips, sliding over my tongue as he pushes it deeper, the sound of his pleasure matching mine. He grips the headboard with one hand, the other letting go of his cock to stroke his knuckles down the side of my face, the expression on his one of taut pleasure and an affection that startles me.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “You take my cock so well. So pretty with your lips wrapped around it. Can I fuck your face, milaya? See how far you can take me?”

---