Page 40 of The Den of Sin
He must have read the indecision in my eyes, the battle of wills that pushed and pulled.
“Touch yourself then,” he rasped. “Show me how wet you are.”
I swallowed hard. “Can I straddle you?”
The words barely left my lips, before his both hands grabbed my waist and lifted me effortlessly across the center console to his lap. The space was tight, but it didn’t matter to me. I wanted to feel his body as close to mine as possible. My knees spread, each landed on the outer side of his thighs and my dress hiked up around my waist. My fold was so close to his cock but it wasn’t enough.
Our eyes locked, faces inches apart. “I won’t touch you, malyshka,” he promised hoarsely. “Not unless you tell me.”
That was all the promise I needed. I pushed my panties aside, and the moment my finger brushed against my nub, a loud moan escaped me.
“Finger yourself while I jerk off underneath you,” he instructed, on a growl. “I’ll imagine your hot pussy tight around my cock.”
“Vasili.” His name was a breathless whisper on my lips as I fingered myself.
The pressure inside me built, taking me higher and higher, intent on chasing this pleasure. I watched him through heavy eyelids, his eyes hungry on my pussy. I followed his eyes, watching between our bodies as he pumped his cock, up and down, and I rubbed myself. Every so often, accidently or not, I brushed against his cock and he’d groan. The sound was thrilling, dangerous, tempting.
“I want to taste your fingers.” His voice was a raspy demand. Without questioning my sanity or his, I brought my fingers to his lips. He kept pumping his shaft, his other hand wrapped around my wrist as he sucked my fingers clean. “You taste amazing,” he groaned, savoring it like a delicacy.
“Oh my God,” I moaned, the throbbing pulse between my thighs unbearable. I wanted him to touch me, I wanted him inside me, but the words stayed locked behind my lips.
Pulling my hand out of his grasp, I shoved it back inside my panties and fingered my clit. With his free hand, he ripped my panties, the tearing sound in parallel to our heavy breathing. I didn’t care, the only thing I cared about was the pleasure. I fingered my clit, faster and harder, purposely brushing against the tip of his shaft. Each touch caused a friction and tortured groan from both of us.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I kept repeating it as pressure built higher and higher. He buried his face into my hair, breathing words in Russian.
“Isabella,” he murmured. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”
I closed my eyes, relishing in the sensation. I had never felt a fraction of this with Ryan. Ever!
“Vasili, I need-” What did I need? I needed him inside me, to fuck me hard and relentlessly. The way I remembered he did that night five years ago. “Please,” I begged.
“Tell me what you need, malyshka.” His grunts matched mine, both of us touching ourselves and needing each other with desperation. “I’ll give you anything. Just tell me what you want.”
My eyes lowered back to where his shaft was inches away from my aching pussy. He pumped his cock hard, the glistening pre-cum all over it, tempting me to feel him hot at my entrance. I kept fingering my clit as I lowered my body just a fraction, to feel the tip of his hard shaft inside my entrance, and it was all it took. My body exploded into a million pieces, and I watched him do the same, as cum spurted out of him all over my pussy and himself.
He kept milking his cock, his grunting sounds and my moans mixing together. I rubbed my hot pussy all over his shaft, relishing in the hot sensation. I had no idea why but this felt so erotic, and I wanted to keep going. I was greedy and wanted to feel him inside me, hard and deep.
Chapter Thirteen
Vasili
Ilistened to Isabella’s breathing, her forehead still against mine. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away. What we had just done was seriously some high school shit, but it sated me. For now. The moment I felt her hand on my dick, I could have exploded right then. That was how much she impacted me. And watching her pleasure herself, my dick barely at her hot entrance… it was some vanilla porn, but with Isabella it felt damn erotic and right.
“We messed up your car,” she muttered, her eyes still closed.
“No, we didn’t.” Fuck, I wouldn’t mind having smears of her wetness all over this three-hundred-thousand-dollar car. It would make it worth millions in my book.
I wrapped my one hand around her slim waist while with the other I reached to the back seat where I always kept a clean shirt for emergencies. I wiped her clean first and then myself. Balling the shirt, I threw it onto the floor of the back seat.
I tucked myself back in and zipped my pants up. This time, I wrapped both arms around her and I cocooned her into my arms. She made me weak and strong, rough and soft. I had been ruthless from a young age, knowing I’d take the reins of my father’s criminal organization. Our organization started in Russia where things were harsher and more ruthless than here. Weaknesses were exploited so I never wished for soft; never needed it and never wanted it. But with Isabella, a tiny bit of softness and gentleness found its way into my rough edges. It only happened with her.
She shifted away from me, and it took everything in me not to beg her to stay in my arms. Talk about a joke because Isabella’s eyes kept darting in every direction but mine. She was avoiding my eyes.
“Isabella, look at me.” She refused so I took her chin between my fingers and gently brought her face to mine. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Her response was a soft murmur and my cock was ready for round two.
“Something is bothering you.”
