by V. Theia
Her jaw stretched wider, giving him access to something he craved. He opened his in return, cupping her cheek so he could dive in. Letting her explore his mouth with licks and nibbles. God, she was so curious, so unhurried in her exploration. Bumping her hips into his hand when he slid it up her inner thigh to the place where he knew would blow his mind.
Her little bites stroked a feverish heat over his skin, and his brain melted into useless mush. Soon. He couldn’t feel his body at all, except his throbbing dick.
Every sensation concentrated on the warmth of her lips, building her fire to the dance of their tongues.
As turned on as Tag was, he caught onto her every reaction, each cue meant she wanted more, and he gave.
He strengthened the kiss, fucking her mouth with his tongue, stealing her breaths. The sweet scent of her perfume bathed his inhalations as he chased her flavor.
And then he pushed the soft material to the side and touched where she was wet.
So fucking wet. “This for me?”
“God.” She puffed, pushing her head back to the wall, her nails digging deeper into his shoulders. “You make me wet, Luke.”
He rubbed slowly at first, letting her get used to him.
“You’ve got no idea how good I’m going to make this little pussy feel.”
Ah, Christ alive. Warm and wet, he was in paradise as he fondled her slit and then parted the folds to find the treasure within. The moment Tag circled her clit, Marianna jolted.
“Feel good?” Biting on her lower lip.
She was so beautiful. So responsive under his hand.
“Yes, so much.”
He grinned and found a rhythm that wasn’t too fast, stroking her into a frenzy.
What Tag didn’t expect, and what took the floor out from underneath him, was how wild she turned in his arms.
She grabbed his hair, almost swallowing the kiss out of him.
“I’m not delicate, Luke,” she whispered, panting. “I want this.”
It was a starting pistol for him.
He’d tongue-fuck her so goddamn right, so any time she needed it, she’d knock down his door to ask if his tongue could come out to play.
Whenever she wanted it, Tag would be her personal pussy eater. Lapping her so tight until she screamed.
A shudder bust through his wide frame, staring at the holy grail of all pussies.
Feeling like the dirtiest bastard on two legs, he inhaled, holding it in his chest to help calm his raging cock. She dripped—wet and sexy from pouty, bare lips.
If he ever got his cock inside her, Tag knew he’d live there, finding different angles to fuck it from until she was screaming in bliss.
He needed to know what she sounded like when she came.
When she came for him.
Would she cling and swear?
Would she gush down his throat and pant little breathy sounds?
He wanted her to deafen him.
To pout and demand until she got her own way.
For fuck’s sake, he’d never hurt to put himself through sexual torture before, by giving someone else pleasure. Until she gazed at him through desire clouded eyes.
“You see this parched mouth? Consider it your adventure playground. You let me know when you need it and it’s at your disposal. I’ll make you my every fucking meal. You wanna yank my head closer and moan the walls down? Use my ears to move me the way you need it, I’ll be there lapping you until my tongue numbs.”
After each word, he watched her chest inflate until she was nothing but air and wide eyes.
Good. Better she understood where he was coming from right off the bat.
No fucking room for confusion.
Christ, she was responsive.
“I hope you have a big appetite, Luke.” She husked, and he all but detonated.
Game on, darlin’.
The first flick of his impatient tongue on her already swollen clit and her thighs trembled around his ears. Fingers latched tight-fisted to his hair, and that’s when Tag’s tongue motorized. Strumming her so fast, until her taste seeped into his pores.
Food was a thing he used to have yesterday.
Now all he needed to eat was her sex.
After a few minutes making her moan his name, he stiffened up his tongue, letting her ride it out of him. He made a meal of her, dragging from side to side, tormenting her little clit.
He took his mouth to her throat, using his free hand to tip her head back. When he bit down - not hard - he sucked to rouse a moan out of her.
“So fucking glad you said that, darlin’. You want me to stop, you tell me to stop and we stop. Other than that, I want you to take what I give, understand?”
“Yes. Yes, I… please. I hurt all over for you.”
She didn’t have to beg him for a thing, but the word went directly to his already aching dick.
He teased her with kisses and bites.
He fucked his fingers into her, slow and then deep—she was too tight. Down to the bottom of her where she was sopping wet, soaking his entire hand. He felt every shudder as he swallowed her moans and fought with her tongue.
The woman kissed hell out of him. The sexiest moan he’d ever heard before worked its way out of her.
On his knees, she spread her legs open wider for him, taking his silent cues, pleasing him. He worked his hand in and out of the leg of her panties.
“Give me it, Anna.” dropping his forehead to hers.
He wanted her cries and to watch her eyes turn blind when it hit her.
When she detonated, it was better than expected. Her hips lifted from the seat and she sort of halted in mid-air, while her sweet core shuddered its juices down his hand.
It was then Tag leaned in and sucked the moans off her tongue.
So sweet was his Russian girl.
And he was far from finished with her.
EIGHTEEN
“The more you have, the more you want, it’s just facts.” -Tag
He gave her his best shit-eating grin.
Like the cat that got the canary.
He finger-fucked her in the hallway because he was too impatient to get them upstairs.
As much as his shaft was hurting behind his zipper, what do you know… her pleasure settled something within Tag.
It snapped his tether, which usually made Tag an impatient guy.
He eased into a fresh kiss, felt her soften and taste him back.
Goddamn, his balls throbbed, so full and only wanted to be emptied in one place.
Something urgent in him roared to life. It was more than only getting her off.
If he were book smart and didn’t drop out of school at sixteen, he might have known what it was.
Tag reared back on his heels, caught her around the waist and plastered her tight to his frame. Breathing against her mouth for a moment to get the exhilaration under control, before diving into a kiss that rocked the very foundation of his existence.
Just a taste.
Jesus. Jesus.
She tasted like the creamiest chocolate pie. Like sin he wanted to drown in. Like a homecoming he didn’t know he was sick for. There was a lack of experience in her touch, almost as though testing how far she could go with him - and for herself - that made him protective and victorious at the same time.
Mine. She will be mine.
The sound of it pushed its way into Tag’s head, clanging like a damn bell.
This was insane. It was fucking insane. And right.
He needed to breathe, but he would rather die than break the kiss. Feeling as though he’d starved for her his entire life.
She whimpered into his mouth, drew her hands through his hair, and he countered with a soothing noise, running a thumb along her soft cheekbone.
“One more,” he rasped, pulling back to see the glassiness of her eyes, full of arousal. God, he’d put that look in her eyes. He felt bigger than he did after a championship fight. “Gonna gimme one more, Anna? I need to spoil my pussy.
”
Her puff of laughter made him grin.
When he stripped off her shirt, he feasted his eyes on her perfect, suckable tits begging for his mouth.
She bowed forward, rolled her finger along his mouth.
“I have seen no one more handsome than you.” She told him, her accent low and croaky with arousal.
One more orgasm from her and he’d feel halfway human again. Decent enough, he could concentrate on feeding her, instead of mauling her in his hallway.
Some fucking noble man he was, huh?
But Marianna didn’t seem to mind. She wore a small smile while he tempted her nipples into hardened peeks with his finger and thumb.
Her body was a work of art. Tits high and tight, a small waist and flared hips, limbs that went on for days. He noted the white scars on her chest and ribcage. Tag’s back teeth ground down hard to find the fuckers who put them on her and kill them slowly until they begged for mercy.
Ink adorned her waist, surprising him. He loved women having tattoos. The black and pink ink crawled around her ribcage, shaded branches with cherry blossoms. The design got his cock raging, so fucking sexy. Giving a flower under her breast a small lick, she hissed, fingering his hair.
When he could really explore her, Tag wanted to go to town tasting every inch of her dancer body. For now, he was content to lift her legs over his shoulders, kiss along her quivering thighs, before he went in.
He didn’t hold back.
Giving a few kitten like testing licks, he tasted how sweet his Russian girl was.
Every muscle in his gut locked up.
“Ah, fuck, god.” He grunted. Prying open her folds, he sucked where she needed sucking and was rewarded with her shudder-moan.
“Luke,” she whispered. “Oh, Jesus.”
Hearing her whimper his name while he was feeding on her pussy did a number on him. When he reached the hood of her clit, he watched with awe as her eyes closed and her chin rose, exposing her neck. He wasn’t known for rushing a woman to the finish line, but he was in danger of coming in his jeans any second now.
She reacted when he got rough with her, he’d noted. She liked when he didn’t hold back, so he didn’t. Down on his knees, with his head in heaven, he traveled a hand up her chest and cupped around the front of her throat. It took no time for Marianna to flex her feet on his shoulders and arch into the pleasure he sucked out of her.
Her come down was glorious and Tag went on lapping at her until she whined it was too much.
Panting, he let her legs go down to the floor and he gathered in her softened body until she lay her head on his shoulder. “I might have died.” She told him, making Tag chuckle as he climbed to his feet with her in his arms.
“Sorry, not sorry, darlin’. Said I wanted my hands and mouth on you, didn’t I?”
“Da, you did. It was…” she paused, and he stopped his stroll down the darkened hallway when he felt her hand on the side of his face. “It was spectacular.”
Well, if that didn’t inflate his ego and cock.
Tag was hard, hurting and about as satisfied as a man had ever felt without spilling his come all over his woman.
He’d sell every bike he owned to keep putting that dreamy sound in her voice when she protested. “Luke, you can’t put me naked on your couch.”
“I will put your naked body on every surface in this house, darlin’.” her lips twitched and then she laughed. “Please bring my clothes, I would like to freshen up.” She slid out from underneath him, Tag groaned when she grazed his bulge.
“Luke… I.” She was gazing at his unmistakable bulge. Whittling her lip with her front teeth. He cupped her chin, tipped it back, “don’t you be worrying about me. Told you I only wanted to touch you. You’ll let me know when you want this inside you.”
She inhaled, then tipped forward to kiss the edge of his chin before she escaped out of the room.
Tag dropped to the couch, bracing over his knees, her taste still locked in his throat and on his fingers.
He was starving.
A man possessed.
But he was also a man who recognized someone’s limits. If he moved too fast for Marianna, he’d lose the good strides they’d reached already.
While she cleaned up in the bathroom, he grabbed a fast shower in his en suite, rubbing one out before exploding. It took ten beats through his fist before he sprayed his grunted pleasure and watched it drain away.
Desiring a woman wasn’t anything new to Tag.
But wanting one this strong, until it felt like madness gnawing at his soft brain, was new.
Maybe he’d had his head bashed in one too many times, because he liked the feeling.
He moseyed downstairs in only jeans and bare feet, saw her eyes flare as he approached and dropped a kiss to her lips. “Pick something on TV, what do you fancy eating? You’re staying here tonight.” He didn’t give her room to argue.
She liked bossy Tag, so she got bossy Tag.
Brows lifted. “Salty fries. The greasier the better.”
“You got it.” Another prolonged kiss and he went through to the kitchen, the TV springing to life in the other room, grinning to himself.
For an uneducated man who could only use his fists, he’d won something pretty damn good tonight.
And she was sitting in the other room, curled on his couch, waiting for him to feed her.
NINETEEN
“The lost boy.” – Arson
Marianna was a light sleeper, having been too long since she’d shared a bed with anyone.
Least of all one the size of Tag.
Who knew he was a snuggler?
In the night, he’d curled his body around hers from behind. One knee wedged between her thighs, his face in the back of her neck and an arm slung carefully around her waist.
Boiling hot.
And more content than she deserved to be.
She knew it was her own conscience waking her in the dead of night.
It took some expert wriggling to extract herself from him and slip out of bed. She’d slept in one of his white t-shirts.
Taking a glance back, her chest flamed seeing he’d rolled to his back and the sheet gathered low around his waist, showing off the deep pelvic valleys. He was seriously the sexiest man alive. Before she did something silly, like climb all over him so she could kiss his lush lips, she tiptoed out onto the wide landing.
The stairs didn’t creak when she creeped down them quietly.
Before they’d gone to bed, he’d told her the five-digit alarm code. Forgetting it almost instantly, it was fortunate she didn’t want to slip out. With the way Tag kissed her neck on the way up to bed last night, nothing much else took up space in her mind.
Until a bad dream woke her, and the familiar heaviness caved her chest.
How could she have a good time with a man when she was flunking as a mother?
It made her the lowest form of a human being.
It wasn’t as though she wasn’t trying.
She’d tried everything and came up empty.
But just recently, she’d gotten a contact from someone in a chatroom… yeah, safe not so much, but desperate times. Evidently he could fix her up with fake papers and passports.
Two days and she still hadn’t received a reply to her message.
Tag had been wonderful, more than she deserved.
She was so grateful for his strong shoulder to lean on, but in this, she had to deal with it herself. It wasn’t only pride, this was her life, her babies lives, she had to prove to herself she was a worthy mother.
These past months felt like a whirlwind nightmare, one bad day after another.
And then Tag happened and things got better. But she wouldn’t be whole until she could make it right.
It was seven hours ahead in Russia; the call connected in moments. “Galina, how are you?”
“Oh, Lapushka. We were just talking about you.” The closest woman she had to a mother sounded happy. Lily grabbed t
he phone first and started her rapid baby chatter. God, it hurt Marianna’s heart and made her teary smile as she listened to their park adventures.
“That sounds like wonderful fun, baby. What English have you learned today?”
Lily was going to be studious, she was voracious with books. Counting to ten in English with only two slips, Marianna praised her daughter until Lily giggled. “I’m so proud of you, my Lily-pad.” Her hopes and prayers were, if… when… she could get her children here, they wouldn’t have too big of a transition when they went to school.
Marianna did all the talking with Pasha. “You are being so grown up, my Pasha, I love you so very much. Will you give Lily and babushka a big hug from me?” He didn’t reply, and in the next moment Galina came back on the phone. “Thank you for my hug, Marianna.” He was so small, so much shyer than Lily. “He’ll come around.”
“Will he? He shouldn’t have to, Galina. I’m the parent. He shouldn’t have to be brave and strong. I should be there to tuck them into bed, to take them to the park and make dinner.”
Sipping coffee, maudlin and in her feelings, she turned her head when she heard Tag on the stairs a little later.
Slack jawed, she felt the hot clutch in her stomach. Wearing only a pair of black boxer-briefs that left little to her already fertile imagination.
“You’re awake early, darlin’.”
Marianna cleared her throat, then poured him a coffee. A hand on her chin stopped her tracks. She watched his smile appear as his head descended and Tag brushed his lips on hers.
“Hey.”
Flustered, she turned around to finish his coffee. “Oh. Hi, Luke.” Their fingers brushed with the cup exchange and she trembled. To fill the silence, she told him, “I spoke to my children.”
“That’s good, darlin’. How are they?”
“Good, I think.” She explained what happened.
Another kiss. He squeezed her hip. “Your boy will come around, Anna.”
Most days she could remain optimistic. Digging deep, she found an extra store of hope.
Turning to Tag, she found his light eyes on her, “can we go for a ride on your motorcycle, please?”