Page 131 of Breaking Away

“Didn’t I tell you already? I could live between your legs.”

My heart—my confidence–my swirling, emotionally battered chest?—

It’s opening and softening. Dmitri. What is he doing to me? I feel sowantedas he tastes me. My brain drenches in soft pleasure as he carefully takes me again with his mouth.

Pretty soon, I’m murmuring. “Please… please… please…”

The orgasm isn’t close. I’m not someone who shoots off like a rocket back-to-back, but it doesn’t matter because this is a fluttering descent into the most maddening spiral. Big palms press down on my quivering thighs. He pets me, massaging the muscles until I’m liquid. I can’t—I can—it feels soooo good?—

I thread my fingers through his hair and tug until his mouth lifts off me. Haven’t you had enough? I want to ask him. I don’t, but say something I’ve never said to another man before. “I’m—empty.Please.”

It’s a broken plea that makes him lose it. His whole body ruts once. A barely human noise rips out of him. “Please what?”

“Fuck me.”

Dmitri is on me before I can blink, lifting me farther up on the bed to make room for himself between my legs. I’m on my back.

“I’m on birth control. Tested and in the clear,” I babble.

“Me—too.” His voice is barely understandable, it’s roughened so badly.

“I’ll be good to you,” he says, as if I’m the one who needs convincing, not the one who is begging to be filled.

“Please, Dmitri.”

We’re being so polite, needy and desperate to each other. My pleas have him moving. He starts shedding his clothes. First, his shirt is unbuttoned and tossed away. Then he works to take his pants off, pulling the zipper down over the stiffness in his pants. A desperate drum of need pounds inside me with every inch of skin revealed. I don’t even have time to admire the view of his sprawling chest, for he pulls out another view that has me nearly choking.

His cock is thick, long and upright on his belly, taking up so much space. I exhale and my hips lift as if I can’t handle it not being inside me already. “It’s—a lot?—”

Dmitri fists himself, closing his eyes briefly, like he needs a minute to control his hunger. And then he gets to work, rearranging me so he’s behind me with his legs extended out. My back presses against his front. I feel his cock between the globes of my cheeks.

This feeling. It’s so fucking delicious, especially when his arms band around my waist, and he lifts me so I’m higher on his stomach. His cock comes out on the other side, rubbing against my seam. The shaft bumps into me. Once. Twice. Three times.

He’s doing it on purpose.

“Just the tip,” he croons. “You can take that, right?”

“Yes,” I cry out.

“Good girl.” His head sinks into me. And then it comes out, nudges my clit, and sinks into me again. I’m nearly wailing, because he does this move over and over again.

What—How—How is he not dying?

In all the games I’ve watched of Dmitri—and by now I’ve seen many—he’s stoic even when body-checked into the boards. Pain is nothing. He once told me his body was a bruise so nonchalantly with the flattest of eyes as if it was entirely obvious.

The difference between his height and mine means I can turn my head and catch his expression.

I do.

My insides reel. Clench. Weep.

He’s dying. My heart thumps hard against my chest when I see how tortured ecstasy bleeds into every line of his strained expression as he only lets the first two inches of his cock enter me. His cheekbones stand out. There’s a glassy look to his pupils.

I thought I felt wanted before? That explodes into ferocity. Every second I see how ravenous but controlled Dmitri is, a chord in me tightens. I didn’t think I could come again, but I… could?

It’s not enough though. I need more.

That’s why I grip his hands, the ones that have been controlling how much we join. My fingers tighten and with more boldness than I’ve ever shown before, I push back and sink completely down on him. His length is impossible, but I’m so wet. I use all my weight and take him to the hilt.

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