Page 94 of Vitaly

“No.”

He chuckles. “Okay.”

He shifts my hips so I’m hanging over the edge of the bed, then he drops to his knees. I inhale a sharp breath and point my gaze to the ceiling.

“I thought we didn’t do this.” I try to sound amused, but my heart is racing.

I’ve never told him this. I don’t know why I would.

But this isn’t something I’ve experienced… Ever.

Nikita doesn’t give oral sex. He’ll touch, but he does not lick. He hasverystrong feelings about it. Men who give oral sex are subservient, they’re weak, they’re… You get the idea.

“I said you didn’t suck cock. I never said I didn’t eat pussy.”

When Vitaly’s lips press against my thigh, I shudder, closing my eyes. “Because you think I’m a queen,” I say, my voice squeaking as he moves up my inner thigh. “Aren’t you a king, though?”

His tongue slides up my center without me expecting it, and I snap my eyes open, my hands gripping the blanket. I try to focus on his answer, but it doesn’t come, the glide of his tongue back down my slit his only response.

I can feel the moisture between my legs, feel my core lubricating for him. My face heats wondering what I must taste like, but I don’t voice the thought. For some reason, I’m embarrassed.

“Do you not like this?” he asks, lifting my hood to flick his tongue on my clit once before looking up at me. Despite the action, his voice sounds serious.

“Of course, I do. Why?”

He tilts his head a moment then goes back to licking. I slam my eyes shut as he winds my core with his tongue like a fucking jack-in-the-box. And like the toy, I feel ready to burst.

“You like it, Mila?” Vitaly slips a couple fingers into me as he pulls up.

I swallow and nod.

“Good. Take your shirt off.”

My eyelids get heavy as his fingers pump inside me, and I find my hips lifting, aching for his mouth again.

“Now.”

“You do it,” I pant, arching against his hand. I only mean the words as a blow off, so I regret them as soon as they’re out of my mouth and his fingers leave me. He snakes his way up my body and presses his forehead to mine before lifting my shirt to my chin.

“You’re such a bossy girl.” He shakes his head with mock disapproval. He brings the shirt over my face and leaves it there, blocking my sight as he clasps my wrists in his strong palm and takes my nipple into his mouth.

I let out a sharp cry when he bites, and I try to jerk my legs that are uselessly held beneath his body. My shirt vacuum seals to my mouth when I suck in oxygen through the cloth, and I have to spit it out just to get a proper breath.

But his lips sucking the swollen and tender bud he abused curls my toes with pleasure that makes it worth it. When he pinches my other nipple, hard, I try to yank my wrists free, but he doesn’t allow me to budge, and I can’t bring myself to ask him to.

He brought me the knife. He told me I’m a warrior, that I’m a queen.

I’m allowed to want to be his whore.

“Fuck,” I cry when he nips my other nipple, sucking it into his mouth right after.

When he’s finished with his assault, he removes the shirt over my head and looks at me plainly. “Ready to play nice?”

“Fuck you,” I say, my voice low as my core blazes with need.

His lips lift as he searches me, his eyes roaming my flushed face. He knows I want him. I don’t think he’ll make me say it.

And I’m right.

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