Page 33 of Corrupted Guilt

"Nyet, no." He said and shook his head. "You wear your underwear?" He moved to strip me, and I recoiled again, out of his grasp this time.

"Okay, you'll boil in here, have it your way." He turned around and walked back to the bench, he moved with power, like a cat, the muscles writhed beneath his skin stretched over them.

I watched him as he bent to pick up a ladle, and poured water on the stones, filling the space between us with thick mist again. He sat and waited for me. "Come," he commanded from behind the curtain of steam.

I move towards him.

“I told you not to touch yourself. Did you listen or did you disobey me?”

My face heats with my blush, “What?”

He keeps his stormy gray eyes locked on mine, “I asked if you touch yourself despite my telling you not to.”

I don’t answer him at all. I consider ‘fuck you,’ but I don’t.

“Nothing to say.? You think your silence can’t be held against you?” he grins. His voice coarsens, vibrating the hot, wet air between us. “Stand in front of me.”

Before I realize what’s happening, I find myself walking towards him, through that wall of mist separating us. He sits there, glistening with sweat, his muscles relaxed, but his eyes hawk-like, alert, gray as sun-faded concrete.

His staring was uncomfortable, so blatant, so indiscreet, so bold. "What now?" I asked, and he looked up at me, like he was waking from a dream.

“Now we sweat." He said and closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the wall behind him. I studied him, his skin almost pink now in the heat, his muscles relaxed, the clefts between his shoulders and neck had what looked like stars on them, with eight points, made of knives, done in a cheap India ink, bluish purple.

“Remove your robe.”

“Yuri...”

“Take it off,” he growls. There’s a promise in his voice that if I don’t, he will.

I slowly move my hands to the knot I tied in the robe’s belt, holding it together. I untie it and let the robe fall naturally. It still covers me, just the split showing the area between my breasts, my stomach, and the area between my legs in shadows.

He studies me for a while, his eyes going up and down the slit in the robe. Finally, he starts talking in a rough voice, “Nowturn around and slide the robe down off your shoulders and all the way to the floor.”

I turn and slowly shrug the robe off my shoulders.

“Face me.”

I turn, as he says and when I see him, he has his cock in his hand, stroking it. I’ve never been so turned on in my life, the hungry look in his eyes, the savagery of stroking his cock while looking me straight in the eye. I have no idea what to do, I just want. Want him, inside me, right away. But I know he’s going to stretch this moment out as long as I can possibly stand.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he says in a ragged, heavy voice. “Now.”

I do exactly what he says. It’s unbelievable he can make me so weak, so eager to please him. I push those thoughts away and let my hand slowly creep down to the heat and wetness below my waist. Yuri is stroking his cock, watching me all the time.

When my finger reaches my clit, I want to moan, want to fall to my knees but I try to be cool, I close my eyes and feel the electricity going off all over my body.

“Good girl,” he says heavily. “Now, come closer to me.”

I walk forwards, my eyes slightly open, aware I’m walking towards his stiff cock, and he closes his knees, pulling my forward so I’m aligned with his cock, and he pulls my hips down as he opens his knees, giving me a seat on his knees and his cock.

I can feel the wet, hot tip against my entrance, and he pulls my hips further down, giving me an inch, then another.

I want it all, right now.

“Oh please,” escapes my lips.

He stops, inside me two inches, he holds my hips steady as they try to roll; to take more of him but he won’t let me. The bastard is teasing me again.

“You want me to beg, okay. Please give me the rest of your cock. Right. Fucking. Now.” I say and can’t believe the harshness in my voice.

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