Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
It wouldn’t be clean or quick. But it would be final.
And I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was ready.
I closed my eyes, breathing him in, letting the solid warmth of him ground me. His fingers threaded through my hair, holding me there as if he could shield me from the world just by keeping me close.
“Zoya,” he murmured, voice low and gravel-rough, lips brushing the top of my head. “You okay?”
I shook my head against his chest, face pressed to the fabric of his shirt. “I will be. I’ll make sure of it.” I pulled back and tipped my chin up to look into his face.
I didn’t want words or reassurances. I wanted Dmitry. I wanted to feel something real and alive in this moment, something that drowned out the echo of my father’s voice. I rose on my toes and kissed him hard and desperately, tasting my own fear on his lips.
He growled low in his throat, hand tightening in my hair as he kissed me back like he was claiming every inch of my mouth, every breath I took.
When we broke apart, both breathing ragged, I stayed pressed against him, hands resting on his chest and lips lightly pressed to his as I listened to the steady thump of his heart.
His arms tightened around me as if he could fuse me to him and keep the world out forever.
But the need shifted as the urgency built low in my belly, hot and insistent. I felt this power rise in me, and before I could stop myself or think about what I was doing, I slid down his body slowly. I dropped to my knees between his legs, fingers already working his belt and zipper open.
Dmitry watched me, eyes dark and burning, hands still fisted in my hair. He was letting me be in control right now, but I knew it wouldn’t last. He was too dominant in his need for me.
“Zoya,” he growled, voice rough with everything he couldn’t say. “You don’t have to—”
I shook my head once, quick and sure, fingers tugging the zipper down. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” His cock sprang free, all heavy, hard, thick, and leaking at the tip. While looking back into his eyes, I wrapped my hand around the base, barely able to close my fingers, and stroked once, slowly, feeling him throb against my palm.
He hissed through his teeth, hips jerking up on instinct. “Fuck.”
His face was tight with restraint, eyes burning, and he pushed his hips forward, thrusting into my grasp. My tongue flicked out first, softly, just teasing the head, and tasting the salty bead of precum at the crown.
He groaned low, and I took him into my mouth. My lips stretched wide around his girth, my jaw popping from how big he was.
I sucked the head slow at first, tongue swirling under the ridge, tasting every inch of him. I had never done this before, but I pictured his cock was ice cream that I was licking as it melted on a hot summer day.
He groaned again, deeper this time, fingers flexing in my hair. I pushed forward, taking more and gagging softly when the head bumped the back of my throat. Tears immediately welled, spilling over as I pulled back, gasping, spit stringing from my lips to his shaft.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he smoothed a thumb over my cheeks, smearing my tears that streaked down my cheeks. “Look at this mouth, all pink and swollen, stretched wide around my dick.” His erection twitched after he said the obscene words.
Dmitry looked wrecked and hungry all at the same time, as if he were barely holding himself together.
I took more of him in my mouth, determined, taking him deeper. I gagged harder this time, throat convulsing around him. Tears streamed freely, and spit dripped out of the corner of my mouth and down his shaft, pooling at the base. I used that as lube as I jerked him off with my hand and the girthy part I couldn’t fully suck on.
I didn’t stop as I sucked harder, my movements all sloppy and desperate because I was so inexperienced, tongue working the underside, hand stroking what my mouth couldn’t reach.
“Fuck, Zoya,” he growled, voice wrecked. “Look at you… your tears on your cheeks, and lips wrapped around my cock like a good girl. Choking on it like you’re starved.” He bared his teeth and snarled. “You love it, don’t you? Love letting me fuck your pretty throat.”
I moaned around him; the vibration ripping a curse from his throat. My throat tightened with every gag, every shallow thrust he gave me. His hips snapped forward. His movements were controlled, but barely, pushing deeper until I gagged loud and wet, and caused more tears to pour.