Page 8 of Craving Dahlia

I’m not sure exactly what he means. But only a moment passes before I find out, as he sees the flicker of confusion in my eyes.

He chuckles darkly. “You got me too worked up,devochka. Now take care of it. Make me come, so I can go the rest of the night with you.”

His hand tugs my head down, one hand still firmly in my hair, as the other drags down his zipper, his tattooed fingers slipping in between the opening to slide out his thick, hard, cock.

“Sir, I—” The cab driver starts to speak, and I see Alek give him one dark, warning look, the hand that was encircling his length letting go just long enough to reach across, twitching his leather jacket to one side.

My heart nearly stops in my chest as I see the dark, unmistakable shape of a gun.

“Drive,” Alek growls. “And don’t bother taking your eyes off of the road.”

His gaze drops back to my wide, startled expression. “Suck,devochka,” he says in that same thick, growling voice, his hand once again wrapping around his thick shaft as he angles himself towards my mouth.

Pre-cum pearls thickly from the tip, the swollen head alarmingly large this close. He has the biggest cock I’ve ever seen, and my stomach tightens with fearful anticipation. I look up at him, hesitating, and Alek slaps the tip of his cock against my mouth.

“Suck it,” he growls, and a flood of heat washes through me.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m kneeling on the floor of a taxi, between the legs of a man I just met a half hour ago, not in full view of the taxi driver—Alek is far more exposed than I am—but damn close. If he looks in the rear view mirror again, he’ll see my mouth on Alek’s cock. And I can’t believe I’m going to do this. But a hot, throbbing ache has settled between my thighs, and my skin is tingling with the same racing excitement that’s firing my blood. It’sbecauseI’ve never done anything quite this dirty before that it’s turning me on so much.My panties are soaked through, and I can only imagine what the rest of the night has in store for me if this is how it starts.

“If you make me ask again,devochka, the night is over,” he murmurs, the threat in his words clear. And that’s the last thing I want right now.

I nod shakily, leaning in. I’ve gone down on men before, of course, but never one with a cock like this. And never one who seems so difficult to impress. I look up at him as I flick my tongue out, dragging it over the tip of his cock and licking up the drop of pre-cum that’s beginning to slide down, and a shudder wracks Alek’s entire body as his hand twists in my hair.

“Okh, blin, eto tak chertovski khorosho—” He curses aloud in a string of Russian, jerking my mouth down as his hips thrust up. I part my lips without thinking, and the first few inches of his cock thrust into my mouth, sliding over my tongue as more Russian spills roughly from him. “Fuck, your fucking mouth—” he growls in broken English, pulling me farther down his cock as his head falls back against the leather seat and he groans with a sound of pleasure that’s nearly painful.

My gaze shoots back up to his face, and what I see sends a jolt of hot, twisting arousal through me. His eyes are closed, his expression taut with the kind of pleasure that seems as if it’s almost too much, his stomach muscles flexing beneath where the edge of his shirt has ridden up. The hand that isn’t in my hair has let go of his cock, and is gripping the edge of the door, his hips thrusting up mindlessly as he attempts to bury more of his massive length into my mouth.

I’ve never had any man react so viscerally to pleasure before. Most guys kind of lay there, with the occasional grunt to let me know they’re still alive. Alek is lost in pleasure—this brutal, violent, short-tempered man is coming undone because ofme, and suddenly I’m no longer going along with this, startled at my own lewd behavior.

I want to give him the best fucking blowjob of his entire life.

I lean up on my knees, sliding my left hand up his leg, gripping his thigh. Alek jerks at the sensation, his eyes flying open, and for one brief second a strange expression crosses his face. It’s shock—and something else, something that isn’t quite anger, but that I can’t read.

His eyes lock with mine, and there’s danger in them. A threat. Aneed. I don’t know who this man is or what is swirling behind those bright hazel eyes, and I have a feeling that I don’t want to. That it would pull me down into a deep, dark vortex that I might never escape from.

But a night…that’s different.

“Sosi moy chertov chlen, ty krasivaya devushka,”he murmurs, his eyes still locked with mine, and I reach up, wrapping my hand around the base of his shaft. The taxi has stopped in traffic, and I can hear the short, nervous breathing of the driver in the front seat. I wonder if he’s watching in the rear view mirror—and the idea sends another jolt of arousal through me. I wonder if anyone else can see us.

Alek’s hips jerk again, pushing another inch of his length into my mouth. I can feel him throbbing, stiff and so thick that it strains the edges of my lips. I arch my neck, trying to take more of him, sliding him over my tongue until I feel the swollen head pressing at the back of my throat. I can taste him, salty and warm, and I struggle to obey him, to not let out a moan as I grip his thigh and start to slide my hand up and down the part of his shaft that I can’t fit into my mouth.

“Ty mozhesh' vzyat' bol'she, gertsoginya,”he growls, tugging my head down. “Take it all.”

The sound of my name on his lips, rough as the Russian that was spilling from them a moment ago, makes me squeeze my thighs together. I start to slide the hand on his thigh away, intent on slipping it under my skirt, but he grabs it, squeezing.

“Net,” he snaps. “Your pleasure is mine,devochka. You come when I say so.”

A thrill runs through me at that. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be with someone who is truly dominant, who takes what he wants, who uses me for his pleasure. And right now, with Alek’s hand in my hair dragging my mouth down his length, I feel used.

It’s turning me on more than I ever felt possible.

“Yebat—”He throws his head back against the seat, and I feel the muscle of his thigh go hard under my hand. His cock goes harder still in my mouth, throbbing against my tongue, and the hand that was wrapped around mine presses against the top of my head, pushing it down in the same moment that I feel his hot, salty cum flood my mouth as he thrusts his cock into my throat.

I’ve tried to deep-throat a few times before, with varying levels of success, but I’ve never experienced anything like this. My eyes fill with tears at the pressure in my throat, cum bubbling from the corners of my lips as he spurts over my tongue and down my throat faster than I can swallow it as I choke on him. His groan fills the space around us, a flood of rough Russian curses spilling from his lips between his moans of pleasure, and it’s so intensely erotic that my thighs squeeze together rhythmically, driving me to the point that I feel desperate to come.

His hands on my head hold me down, the cedar scent and warm musk of his skin filling my senses, and I’ve never been so turned on. I can’t breathe, and I can feel my own arousal, sticky on the insides of my thighs. His cock throbs once more in my mouth, the last of his cum streaking my tongue as he pulls free, breathing hard.

I stare up at him, and I can feel that my mascara and lipstick must be smeared. I can see traces of the latter on his cock, streaked over the skin, a shade darker than his own flesh. Helooks down at his cock, marked with my lipstick, and moans again as he runs his fingers through my hair.

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