by V. Theia
“Get my clothes off. Don’t mess around.” He demanded.
She went at him like a bear attack. Making him gloriously naked, his cock was a living thing, swelling and dripping from the plump tip.
A Russian prayer slipped out of her slack lips, staring at the thing as he chuckled.
It was the first time seeing him up close, and she was impressed.
Only when he carried her over to the bed did he become serious again. “I see how you’re salivating. We’ll get to your mouth around my tamed cock soon. Your tongue will be its leash. Now open your legs wider, darlin’. Show me what I’m dying to see.” His jaw muscles jumped.
Was she always going to find his simplest body function sexy? Her legs already sprang open like a horny sexpot.
The air coming from his lungs was an audible noise ringing through her ears. He liked what he saw.
“Such a pretty pussy. So soft, I could drown to death right here and be happy.”
She was reeling from his crudeness, gushing more wetness. And if he didn’t touch her soon, she was going to go off like a rocket without him.
He didn’t wait. Thank god.
The moment Tag dropped to his knees in front of her, he hauled her forward until her ass balanced on the soft downy comforter. Her sex mere inches from his face.
The sight of him licking his lips took her down.
Moaning and moaning when he took the flat of his tongue up her drenched sex. She jolted as though electrocuted. Tag had to force a hand to her belly to keep her still while he fed on her with slurps and encouraging groans.
Marianna was a complete mess by the time he climbed to his feet again. She was two orgasms in, watching Tag lick her from his lips. Then he swiped the back of his hand across his chin. So obscene and hot.
Never had a person undone her so thoroughly before.
English didn’t come easy when she was this foggy, but she managed as she leaned up on her elbows, watching him stroking the massive thing between his legs.
“You were… you are magnificent, Luke.”
A smirk twitched his lips as he rolled down a condom. Dark hooded pleasure in his eyes. “Don’t assume I’m a decent man, darlin’, just because I look the part. I’m a deviant when it concerns you. I’ve fucked hell out of you in my head about 90% of the time I’ve known you.”
Eyes wide as saucers, she unglued her tongue and blurted, “what about the other ten percent?”
Another smirk. Hotter and darker. “That’s spent blowing a load over my own belly.”
How did they say it here? Woman down?
“No waiting. Please.” She added to see his eyes flare with intent.
Prowling, their mouths brushed. He was teasing her, making her crave it. It was working because she moaned when he pulled his crown through her wetness, gathering moisture to lubricate the condom.
Up and down, he tormented her poor clit until she was shaking.
“Luke… you are not a gentleman.”
“Told ya,” he chuckled darkly and then slowly… so slowly, he pushed inside her.
Oh. Oh. Ohhhhh. It was a soothing introduction, nothing like the wall fucking from an hour ago. Now he worked to get inside her. Moving back and forth until her walls gave around him and permitted him to push down to the pubic bone.
Their tandem groan was a piece of music.
“Do you have any idea how much I need you?” He asked.
She was beginning to. Her fingers wandered over his hard jawline, his lips and up along his scar. She took every detail to memory, storing it away.
His eyes flamed with possessiveness. With ownership. And his slow measured pumping graduated to pounding until her teeth rattled.
“Ah, fucking hell, Anna darlin’. You feel that? How I’m almost bursting in your womb? I feel you squeezing hell out of me. Such a sopping mess, aren’t you?”
She felt as though he was fucking directly into her stomach. He was big all over, but especially his cock. And he used it so beautifully on her until she was a wheezing wreck, begging for things she didn’t know she needed.
It was an ancient rhythm; instinctual as breathing or swallowing.
Once he was inside her, Marianna helped him move, urging him to surge forward and back. Faster and faster.
A wicked tongue sucked her nipples, leaving sore marks everywhere. Driving her crazy with hot, clumsy kisses.
Discovering there was nothing more satiating than a beautiful man feasting on her, came as a surprise to Marianna. He gorged so well.
That feeling didn’t let up, not even when they went again and again.
This was bliss, she thought with a smile pressed into the bedsheets.
A hand strayed over her hip, squeezing gently, letting her know he was recovering too.
This was paradise served up on a platter from a perfect buffet.
Later, when she had her sea legs back, she turned off the water, and toweled off in front of the fogged mirror, her reflection a blur in the steamy glass.
When she was dressed in a pair of her leggings and t-shirt she’d left there one night, she ventured down the hall. Finding Tag sitting on his bed, resting his arms on his thighs. His wet golden head lifted when she entered, and his gaze dirtily looked her over slowly.
Not waiting for an invitation, she was bold as she walked across the carpeted floor and climbed onto his lap. His face split with a smile, looking so full of gladness and affection.
“How do you feel?” She asked, running her fingers through the strands of the longer part of his hair.
“Like you wrung a handful of climaxes out of me.” He smirked. Blushing, she knocked his shoulder. “I mean about winning your fight. Are your muscles sore?”
“Just fucked the woman of my dreams after waiting what feels like forever. I don’t feel anything but damn good, darlin’.”
Her smile felt shy and jubilant.
He was crazy, but you know… he’d shaken orgasms through her like an earthquake, so she knew what he was talking about.
Content to sit on his lap, she stroked her fingertips down his back, experiencing the way his muscles trembled under her touch.
It hit her with how right this all felt.
“Luke?”
“Hm?”
She bit him on the shoulder. “Again. Please.”
* * *
There was a goddess on his lap.
He thought he’d had good sex in the past, maybe he had, but nothing felt this way.
Kissing wasn’t her only passionate skill. She’d worked his dick like she knew she had the thing under her control. But it was her breathy sounds now, oh those fucking little sounds, clawing through his veins, making him chuckle.
“More.” she moaned into his neck, nuzzling like a tiny kitten. “More talking.”
“You like my filthy talk?” Her reply was her head bobbing up and down.
“Your voice, I enjoy hearing it. It’s rough over my skin.”
“Makes you wet?”
He knew she was dripping.
Her exhale was bumpy and told Tag everything he needed to know about where her head was at. Where his passion was leading her.
They’d fucked and made love and slept a little. They’d showered, he’d made food for them, and she’d talked to her kids. Three times in total today, and after each call, she crawled on his lap, needing something from him in desperate ways.
Tag was happy to give.
He sensed she’d needed taking out of her own thoughts, so that’s what he’d given her. Hard, unrelenting fucks. Her screams bouncing off the surfaces in his house.
“If you want more, you better offer me your tongue.”
His sweet, hungry girl fell on him. He kissed hell out of her, grunting from the back of his throat. The careful way she bit his bottom lip nearly made him bust into a climax.
Showing his worship with the filthy words that raced her to a shuddering orgasm on his lap. Fucking hell, how did he get so lucky to touch her like this?
He’d comfortably won his fight last night, putting his confidence back in place.
Funny how it all paled compared to what he was feeling now.
Tag had needed that win. More than he realized.
Though he’d won the last match, it felt like defeat with how it turned out. Blind for a few days, numerous surgeries to put his cheek back together, leaving him disfigured, dented his ego.
Meeting a Russian woman with sadness in her heart somehow made something right in Tag. Gave him a real purpose for once.
He sought the win for his ego, but he was fighting with his whole heart on the line to keep Marianna.
Directing her head up, he took her lips, feeding his tongue into her mouth, where she sucked happily. “It’s sexy when you come for me, Anna.” He shared. “You gonna make a greedy man happy and take me again?”
She would. She was so horny she could hardly keep still.
Like lightning, he switched their position, dropping her little butt on the soft back oversized armchair.
With each gentle, barely there touch against her quivering stomach, she melted for him.
“Anna?”
“Da?”
“Show me what those gorgeous dancers’ legs can do.” He issued in a growl of need as he pushed the shorts down his legs.
Jesus Christ. He never expected her to kill him by hooking each leg over the arms of the chair and kept going until they were split in a straight line.
His heart arrested in his chest, his shaft thumped against his lower stomach.
“Come here, baby boy.” She all but purred, holding out her skinny fingers for him to step into the breach her legs had made.
A perverse smile stretched his lips when he caught those hands and brought them to his dick. She nearly turned his eyeballs inside out when she stroked him roughly.
Tag grunted, resting his two hands on the chair arms, putting their faces together.
She was flushed from her climax, wet where she needed to be soaked.
He wanted to fuck her more than anything.
“Baby boy?” He nibbled her lip, she stroked him faster, pre-come spilling over her fingers. “What’s in your hand tells you I ain’t a baby, or a boy, darlin’.”
His wicked woman grinned and pumped him until all he heard was his own guttural groans. And then she floored him, whispering into his mouth. “Maybe you can be my baby boy, da?”
Fuck. He’d be her any-fucking-thing.
Game over.
Condom dealt with, though he wanted to feel his come dripping out of her, maybe he’d hold a hand to her pussy, push it all back in. Letting her feed his cock into the fire, Tag gave a last push to join them as he held her legs open by the top of her inner thighs.
“Ah, fuck.”
“Oh, god, Luke.” It was the only thing he understood in Russian.
Deep wasn’t deep enough for him. He wanted to leave his imprint behind, so she had to keep him.
Starting to move, he watched her tiny tits bouncing, her eyes glazed and her stomach muscles flexing. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight before.
The tightest pussy was full of his dick, as though Tag had been offered a last hour reprieve into heaven.
Once he got going, there was no stopping him.
Not after the first pussy squeeze around his cock.
He railed her like a dog in heat. Impaling her over and over. The chair was the perfect height to get in deep.
A mewling sound emitted from her parted lips after each impact. Fingers clawed into his hair, spiking his already too high arousal.
Goddamn right there.
“Such a hungry pussy you’ve been keeping warm for me.” He met her lips, prying them open, tasting her shy tongue with slow strikes.
“Look at me, darlin’.” He rasped, “let me see you flying.”
He watched her in awe. Even when his own muscles protested, and his balls begged for release. He watched her gray eyes turn sightless when she found the pleasure and let it go on him.
He’d hit the jackpot with Marianna.
He loved sex, was damn good at it. She’d just unlocked a new level for him, and he was floating along with her as he came as hard as he ever had.
There was still a long way to go before he could lock this thing down with her.
He kissed her slow and languid, making his woman purr.
Tag knew how to fight when it counted.
* * *
“I’m not watching a chick flick, darlin’.” He griped the next day.
“You have to.” She replied, all but imploring with her witchy eyes teasing his cock into a half-hard state.
It made Tag weak to give in.
“Why is that?”
“Because it is how I learn English. My books and movies help me learn unfamiliar words and phrases.”
Tag groaned. The moment he saw the look of joy on her face, he knew he was sunk. He was gonna sit his ass down and watch whatever mushy shit she loved to watch just so she could learn to her hearts content.
Fuck him in his scarred face.
He sighed until his chest filled with air. She was biting back a grin. And he loved that too. This new joy of hers was an addiction because he knew he was her dealer.
He was always gonna give in, wasn’t he?
“Fine, but the next movie choice is mine.”
“Nyet. For every four romantic comedies we watch together, you may choose one action movie. Deal?”
That little con artist.
She was grinning, and Tag wanted to lick her stupid.
He wanted to taste her smile and feel it stretching for his tongue.
“That deal is in your favor.”
She nodded with a shy smile. “There is too much cursing in action movies, I learn little.”
“And you do from people kissing?”
“Oh, yes. Very much. Stop complaining, I won’t tell anyone you liked it. It shall be our secret.”
He’d let her have her way, only because she was so happy in the moment. Sprawling out on the lazy-boy chair, he beckoned her to him with a motion of his twin fingers. “If I have to watch this mushy crap, you gotta lie on top of me.”
She pretended to look scandalized but climbed on.
“What did you call it earlier? Killer sex? Behave, we can’t have more killer sex, Luke. My body is tired.”
He grunted low in his throat. We’ll see, darlin’.
Tag hoped he didn’t get called into the club tonight, because shifting from this position would be next to impossible. Squeezing her hip, he waited until she was comfortable with her head on his shoulder, before he slid a hand into the back of her leggings, palming the fullness of her ass cheeks.
Now this he could get used to.
He’d watch any old shit on the box if he did it with his hands all over her and his mind conjuring up what position he’d bend her in next.
She slept soundly in his bed for the next four nights.
At 2 a.m. the last thing he’d wanted to do was climb out of his bed and leave her. One last look. He closed the bedroom door, knowing he’d be back before she woke.
She was meant to belong to him.
Nothing would convince Tag otherwise.
He took the stairs quietly, putting his thick-soled boots on at the bottom.
Now he had to solidify their future.
THIRTY
“Are you sure we can’t keep him, boss?” – Marco
Bitter January air nipped at Tag’s cheeks as he strode down the pathway from his house. Catching sight of the car idling on the corner, he headed toward the black Merc. It was the driver, Marco, who stepped out and offered Tag a smile. Tag was wearing a black sheepskin coat, the other guy had on a long-padded overcoat, gloves, and a beanie hat.
“Holy shit, no one said it woul
d be Alaska kind of cold here.” He said, plumes of air drifted out of his mouth.
“Where you from?”
“Originally New York, but I travel all over.”
“Gets cold there too.”
“Dunno, feels like my balls are gonna fall off.”
Tag smirked and reached inside his coat, bringing out a white envelope. “Then let’s make this swift so we can both get back into the warmth.”
“Sure thing.” Marco had his own envelope. Because Tag was no dummy, he waited for his to be handed over first before he gave Marco the money.
Tag used the light on his phone to check over the papers and passports. He was no expert, but everything he looked for was on the fake documents. There were even travel stamps in both Marianna’s and Galina’s passports, giving them an authentic feel.
“Tell your boss thanks.”
When Marco slid the money into his pocket, he was smiling.
If Tag was right in reading his signals, the guy was about to bark up the wrong tree and flirt with him.
“You could always thank me. I’m very good at passing on messages.” He stepped forward toward Tag. The two men were not the same height, and Marco had to tip his head back to look up at him. “Try me, see if I’m lying.”
Tag bet that smolder in his voice worked on gays far and wide. He arched a brow. “I’ll pass.”
“Aww.” Pouted Marco. “Seems a shame to waste all those muscles.”
If he wasn’t so cold, tired, and needing to be back in bed with his girl, he might have laughed at the blatant come on. But the second Marco put a hand on Tag’s chest and leaned in, he didn’t find it funny anymore. “Straight boys are my favorite flavor,” Marco shared, “just ask the Mayor’s right-hand man, he likes how I take messages.”
Then the little prick dared to move that hand to Tag’s junk.
Tag grabbed it, twisting it back, and then he put his other hand on Marco’s throat, pushing him up against the driver’s door. “Unless I ask you to cop a feel of my junk, you keep your greedy mitts to yourself. Wheeze if you understand.”
The guy didn’t look a bit scared. Pleasured was more on the money.