Page 43 of Mafia Christmas Vows

Then, she kneels before me.

I’m a monster. I really am. Because the sight of her on her knees, her face level with my aching cock?

It’s making me go insane.

“Alexei?” she asks.

Her beautiful brown eyes blink up at me, and it takes my brain a solid minute before I respond.

“You want to suck my cock, Maggie?” I say.

My voice is so hoarse with need, I barely recognize it.

She nods, her brown curls bouncing, and I have no choice but to continue.

“Take it out,” I grunt.

She gently sets the pot of icing down, and then opens my belt. Her hands shake as they pull down my zipper, and I want to reassure her that…

What?

That she’s perfect? that no matter what, she’s already given me the best gift that I could have had?

“You’re so fucking pretty, Maggie,” I grunt. If she needs me to talk her through this, then I will certainly do so.

Her cheeks flush, but her hands stop shaking.

“So fucking pretty on your knees for me.”

“I’ve never done this before,” she whispers.

I swear, the words coming out in Russian because I don’t know how to express these desires in English.

“What do I….”

“Take me in your hand,” I grunt.

Her delicate fingers, still a little papery from the flour, curl around my cock.

My eyes roll back in my head and I sway.

“Alexei? Is that…”

“It’s perfect,” I moan. “Fuck, Maggie. Your hands feel so good. I could come from this alone.”

“Oh,” she murmurs.

“But if you put me between your lips…”

One of her hands disappears from my length, dipping into the pot of icing. The sensation of the cool icing dripping onto my cock, the fact that it’s also white, much like another substance leaking from me…

“Fuck,” I grunt.

Maggie looks up at me, smearing the sugar into the pre-cum leaking from the tip of me. “Like this?” she whispers.

Her tongue darts out, pink and wet, and laps at the sugar covering me.

The words pouring from me, in English and Russian, don’t make sense. She runs her tongue over me, lapping up the mixture of my fluids and the sticky sugar.

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