Page 104 of Toxic Salvation
I reach for my towel but he kicks it away with his foot. “Nuh-uh. You want me to massage you, you’re gonna have to do it naked.”
I shrug. “You’re the client. You make the rules.”
“Hm. I like the sound of that.”
I push him down onto the table, fighting my blush the entire time. Mostly because his cock is rock hard and undeniable.
I ignore his erection as I start on his chest, sliding my palms over the smooth skin and kneading the hard muscle there until it’s shiny with massage oil.
As I work, I marvel at every mark on his body. His tattoos are intricate and complex. I trace the paths of the ink, the Russian letters, over his abs, his arms, always coming back toward his center.
At his chest, right above his heart, I notice the tiniest tattoo I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s so small that at first, I mistake it for a birthmark. Then, when I get closer, I realize that it’s writing.
“Is that…?”
“Luka’s name,” Kovan confirms. “I had it done the day he was born.”
“Oh, wow. Why is it so small?”
“It was just something my brother used to say. ‘Sometimes, the things that are most important are the things we can’t see—love, hope, happiness.’” His gaze finds mine. “He was cheesy like that.”
“Your brother sounds like an amazing person,” I whisper in awe. “I would have liked to have met him.”
“He would have loved you,” Kovan says. “He might have even given me a little competition.”
Smiling, I work my way down his body. The muscles on his abs are tightly ridged and smattered with a light dusting of dark hair. The oil slicks the hair back and forth, forming patterns. They’re hypnotizing. I could stare at them all day and never get bored.
Finally, when I’m so turned on that I can’t ignore it anymore, I reach his waist. He lets out a little growl as I palm his erection, moving up and down slowly while I cup his balls with my free hand.
Climbing onto the massage table, I lower myself at his feet and lap my tongue over the tip of his penis. His head rises up so he can see, but I keep licking him, trailing my tongue down his length, over his balls, feeling my way through every ridge and vein he offers me.
Once his cock is coated with my saliva, I start circling my fingers over the base. He spasms in place, rolling back in his head as he tries to hold his orgasm back.
I’m not concerned it’ll end too soon. The man is nothing if not disciplined.
After I’ve tortured and teased him enough, I slide my lips over him and take him into my mouth. “Blyat’,” he moans, sending shivers coursing through me.
There’s something deeply sensual about being so intimate with him like this. About holding his pleasure in my mouth, teasing him, manipulating him, being able to make him scream or cry out or feel like he’s floating.
It’s good for me, too. It’s powerful, invigorating. It’s for me and me alone.
I lose myself in him, sucking him, taking him down my throat again and again. Every little twitch and moan he makes is another surge of giddiness for me.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, lost in the heat of the moment.
Is this really going to be the rest of our lives? Because I can live with this. Even if it means dodging danger and avoiding catastrophe at every turn. There has to be a tradeoff, right?
Nothing comes for free.
And if I can be this happy, this satisfied, this fulfilled, for even a few short minutes, then it has to be worth the price.
Some small, sensible part of me advises caution.Don’t get carried away, girl. That’s how you get your heart broken.
It’s easily ignored, though, when Kovan shoves himself up on his elbows and curses as he pulls himself out of my mouth. “You keep doing that, woman, and I’m going to come down your throat.”
I wink. “Maybe that’s what I want.”
He looks so fierce that it makes me want to stare at him and touch myself. Kovan makes me want to do a lot of things I never thought I’d want to do.
