Page 6 of Stricken

"I'd say confident."

We stare at each other again as I think that I enjoy this little game with him more than I thought I would.

He breaks the silence first by saying, "What would you say to getting fully naked?"

I don't waste time on unnecessary words. I wrestle out of my remaining clothes—boxers and socks while he does the same. It's skin on skin now, a roll of bare sweaty bodies over the bedding.

We kiss again. Kiss like this is the last thing we get to do before we die. Kiss like there's no tomorrow.

Our chests touch as I force him back down. My heart's racing and my pulse is a loud drum in my ears, telling me to possess.

"I win this round," I mutter between the moans he elicits from me with his hand around my cock.

"Because I let you, Hot Shot."

"Fine." I grind my hips against his.

He responds with a mewl of desire, grabbing my ass and arching his back off the bed while he presses into my touch, as if seeking relief from the ache that's been building inside him for far too long.

I know how that feels. I'm not a stranger to keeping emotions in, to suppressing them to the point of boiling over.

I know a perfect way to release all that steam too. It seems he's privy to that secret as well.

Which serves me well. I don't need to explain the nature of this encounter when the daylight comes.

"Come on,caro," he husks out in that bedroom voice of his. "Make me come already if you're so dead set on showing me what kind of man you are." He squeezes me again.

His other hand releases my buttock and finds its way between my legs and begins to fondle my balls and my perineum, causing me to moan loudly into the warm room. And fuck, my hole clenches uncontrollably at the sensation, wanting more of this, wanting his finger there.

Immediately, my father's voice enters my mind.

Faggot. If you even think about it again, I will cut your dick off.

Harsh words Yuri once threw at my fourteen-year-old brother after finding out about another boy bounce around my head. Just for a fraction of a second, but that's enough to forget about all the possibilities to explore further with this skilled man who's in control of my cock at this very instant.

Instead, I shove down the memories and guilt and regret, and then I direct my attention to what's here and now—a gorgeous stranger spread out beneath me, fisting my dick.

"That's right," I rasp out. "You are about to find out,detka."

He bites his lips, eyes half-closed in bliss as I stroke him. The tendons in his neck strain from his tilted head as he writhes from the onslaught of sensations. I prop myself up on one elbow, admiring the view as we pleasure each other. Just once he brushes his fingers over my left pectoral where the ink has already begun bleeding from time. A figure of an angel and my mother's name in Cyrillic letters. He senses that this is not just a patch of artwork done on a whim. This is a territory we don't discuss and I'm grateful for it, grateful we are on the same page.

Instead, I let loose. Instead, I forget. Instead, I allow his hand to wander and when I look at him next, I can tell by the knowing look in his eye that he's very much aware he has me right where he wants me.

"You're so responsive," he purrs against a trail of saliva he leaves on my neck as he moves around to lick every inch of me he can reach with his mouth.

My chest heaves with each labored breath, my hand working him faster as I match his rhythm. He's whimpering now, calling out the names he gives me like a prayer while our hips grind together in perfect sync. The tempo becomes more intense, impossible to withstand.

I feel the familiar tightening, the world narrowing to this moment, this man. "I'm close," I pant. Then I lean down to capture his mouth in a bruising kiss, my free hand finding its way to his smooth cheek. He tastes of lust and whiskey and freedom, and I can't get enough. Our tongues dance like two snakes entwined in a deadly embrace. The fire he ignites inside me burns away any remaining inhibitions or shame.

My brain screams for release when his thumb brushes against the sensitive spot at the tip of my cock, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through every nerve ending.

My hips jerk forward, craving even more friction, even more connection, almost on a molecular level, as we approach our peak. Colored stars spot my vision, blurring everything, turning it into a heady mix of sensations—muscles straining, skin slapping, screams being discharged, bodies shattering in perfect unison.

The words are exchanged in different languages, forming a new shared secret that neither can fully comprehend.

A rush of heat surges through me as the orgasm takes over. Warmth floods my core, filling every crevice of my body as I let out a primal cry that echoes in the room while I shoot my load all over his sweat-slicked chest.

An answering groan comes from between his lips and I feel it—his cum splashing across my skin—chin, pecs, abs. He's all over me and his hand milks the last few drops from my cock right before I reach the nirvana and black out.

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