Mr. Bossy

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Mr. Bossy Page 7

by Danika Dare


  After a brief, intoxicating taste, he pulled back with a curse. “This is getting out of hand,” he rasped into my ear. “I need you again. I can’t wait until after the reception. As soon as they finish their vows, I’m going to take you upstairs, and fuck you again. My cock is craving the grip of that tight pussy of yours again. Look at my lap. You’ve got me fully aroused at a wedding, you naughty girl.”

  I glanced down, and swallowed. I brought my mouth to his ear. “I want to go down on you right here. I want to deep throat you right this second. I want to suck you off and swallow every last drop of your cum in the middle of this prim and proper crowd.”

  He pulled back, giving me an approving look. He stroked a hand affectionately over my hair and whispered, “How quickly I’ve corrupted you with my filthy mouth.”

  The second the ceremony was over, and the crowd began to disperse, he was moving, pulling me with him back to the room.

  He was all over me in the crowded elevator, fondling me, kissing me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. “I underestimated this attraction,” he said quietly, for my ears only. “My self-control is shaky when it comes to you. I’ll never get enough.”

  I didn’t let myself hope that he really meant any of it, but his words still affected me.

  I had to change my dress before we could go to the reception. He’d spurted cum all over the other one.

  Also, I had to shower. My skin’d gotten the same treatment as the dress.

  We’d barely even made it in the door of our suite before he’d shoved my dress up and rammed his cock home. I’d finished fast, but he hadn’t been far behind, pulling out, pushing me down, yanking my breasts out of my dress and coming all over my tits.

  His accent had been thick and mesmerizing as he told me how he loved to mark his territory with his cum.

  I shivered just thinking about it, mind still stuck on it. The man had me sex-obsessed.

  My wardrobe change was a tiny, nude cutout dress that showed off my legs, a large patch of my toned stomach, and a generous amount of cleavage.

  We were alone in the elevator as we headed down to the reception. He didn’t look at me as he reached a hand into the cutout at my cleavage and fondled me, tweaking my nipple gently. “Your pussy must be swollen and sore. I’ve been working you hard. I’ll keep my dick out of it for the rest of the day, but don’t worry, I’m still going to own that ass, and fuck these tits.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. “I’m not that sore,” is what I settled on. Him ignoring my pussy for the rest of the day felt like a punishment.

  “Don’t worry, lapochka. You’re never too sore for a good tongue fuck, so of course I won’t keep my mouth off that delectable pussy.”

  My face was flushed as we walked from the elevator to the resort’s largest banquet hall.

  “What does lapochka mean?”

  “It means you’re sweet, and you’re mine.”

  His answer was unexpected and made me feel warm all over. “Do you call all of your lovers that?” I asked him. Yes, I was fishing.

  He smiled, running a hand over my hair. “No. It’s an endearment I’ve only ever used on you. Do you like that?”

  I fucking loved it. “Yes,” I breathed.

  “Behave yourself,” he told me sternly.

  “Are you sure you really want me to?”

  “Certainly not.”

  The reception turned out to be perversely enjoyable. No, I didn’t want anything to do with the bride, but I loved to dance, and so did Kashnikov. I was in his arms for hours, dance after dance, fast or slow. We were all over each other, touching, kissing, moving together. It was my idea of the perfect evening.

  I wanted it to last forever.

  He was behind me, and we were dancing to a slow and sultry beat.

  He had one hand buried in my hair, gripping lightly, his free hand moving down, fingers feather soft as he found a bare patch of skin in one of the cutouts over my abdomen. He rubbed his nose against my neck and just breathed me in, fingers tracing, but not moving beyond one small, exposed patch of skin. As though he was happy to do nothing more than that, he just stayed that way, letting our bodies move to the beat as he held me like that.

  I relaxed into him, enjoying the contact, finding comfort in it. I loved how he touched me. Whether it was all for show or not, I found a strange peace in it, a serenity under those hands of his that set me on fire.

  “I could dance with you all night,” he murmured into my ear. “But my cock has other ideas.”

  I knew it did. It had been rubbing against me for hours, blatant and hard, and brazen as you please.

  I glanced around at the other dancers. Some sets of eyes were on us, and I realized that I enjoyed that. Let them watch.

  I looked up at the bridal dais, and found the bride watching us, her expression sullen. Her husband was saying something to her, and she seemed to barely notice him.

  I leaned more heavily against Kashnikov. “What did your cock have in mind?” I asked him, voice thick with desire. I loved dancing, but I’d about reached my limit.

  I wanted him again.

  He made a sound in my ear, one of pleasure, and I nearly melted into a puddle of liquid desire at his feet.

  I felt his hard erection grind into my ass as he spoke, “These,” he breathed, the hand that had been playing at my belly gliding up and plunging into the cutout at my cleavage. With no shame or remorse whatsoever, he reached into my dress and fondled me right there on the dance floor. “I’m going to fuck these gorgeous tits first. I need to rub myself all over them, titty fuck them and cover them with my cum.”

  As he spoke, he kneaded at me with his hand, making me tremble with desire. “Then I’m going to lick you, top to bottom,” he continued, playing with one agitated nipple. “Your tits, your cunt. I’m going to suck on your clit and tongue your sweet little asshole. And then I’m going to shove my bare, thick cock in there. I’m going to fuck your ass and spurt cum all over you. Any objections?”

  I was panting, my knees weak, I wanted him so bad. “Can we go now?” I asked.

  He chuckled into my ear, humping his hard cock against me from behind, his hand gripping my sensitive, aching breast. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  When we reached our room, I started stripping as I moved into the bedroom.

  I was naked by the time I made it to the bed. I stepped out of my shoes and climbed up on the bed.

  I turned to look at Kashnikov as I started softly bouncing, my big, perky breasts bobbing with each movement.

  I fondled myself as he stripped down at my feet.

  He groaned as he watched me, pumping at his cock when he had it out. “God, lapochka, I love your tits. I’m going to fuck them so good. Keep bouncing.”

  He jerked hard at himself, watching my body, but it didn’t last long before he let himself go with a curse. “Fuck. Even my hand is too much for me with you in the room. Get on your back. Open your legs. I’m going to get my dick wet in your pussy first.”

  I laid down, parting my legs wide. He crawled on top of me, pushing his cock into my pussy slowly, like he was afraid I was sore.

  I was. He’d ridden me more hard and often than I’d ever been in my life. But I didn’t say a word and he pulled out swiftly. His cock was sopping as he crawled up and straddled my rib cage.

  He pushed my heavy tits together and I watched his face as he fucked between, rutting into my aching breasts, hugging himself with the tender flesh of each round globe.

  My hands covered his, stroking over him and myself. I pinched my hard nipples, and I was gratified to hear him groan.

  “Fuck,” he gritted out. “I fucking love your tits. I’m going to come fast and coat your entire chest with my cum. Tell me you want it. Tell me to fuck your tits.”

  “Fuck my tits, Kashnikov. Please. Fuck them harder. Fuck them as hard as you want.”

  He groaned and started coming all over me, holding his dick to a
im each spurt of cum across my nipples, down my ribs, up to my neck, and all over my tits.

  He left me playing with my own breasts as he crawled lower on my body and started sucking at my cunt. He spent long minutes down there, worshipping my pussy, saying the most outrageous things, and somehow making me love every word of it.

  It was some time later in that drunk-lust haze, and he had me nearly on the edge, about to come, when he pulled back and flipped me around onto my stomach.

  “Up on your elbows and knees,” he told me roughly.

  I did it, and he rewarded me with two fingers in my cunt, shoving in and out with just the right rhythm to get me off. As I hit the edge, about to let go, I felt his tongue lick softly at my back entrance.

  I came with a scream shaped into his name.

  He kept licking, his fingers pulling out of me to play with my cunt, and slowly drag up to my ass. He pushed a finger slowly into me and we both groaned. I felt something warm and wet moving around his finger and realized it was his tongue again, licking me as he fingered me. I felt his blunt tip at the entrance to my pussy, and moaned at the multiple assaults on my senses.

  He entered me slowly, rocking back and forth once, twice. I moaned a protest as he pulled himself out completely.

  He made it slightly better by replacing his thick cock with two busy fingers.

  I knew what was coming, why he’d lubricated himself in my cunt, but it was still a shock when his tip penetrated my back entrance. He stopped moving when I cried out, his fingers working me harder. He had me so close to coming that my body relaxed enough to let him push his cock deeper into my ass.

  “Please,” I cried out, no clue what I was even asking for.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” he grunted in my ear, shoving himself balls deep into my ass.

  I came and he started moving, fucking my ass hard and fast. He was talking filthy, of course, but by then I couldn’t understand a word of it. He’d switched to Russian.

  I felt boneless as he worked me over and pulled out, rubbing his spurting cock all over my puckered anus and ass cheeks. I couldn’t move for the life of me.

  He was kissing my back, his dick still humping and squirting against my flesh, as I drifted to sleep with a smile on my face.

  I roused a few times as he took off my ring and earrings, turned me over and cleaned me. I remember feeling something soft and warm turn in my chest as I felt him wiping my makeup clean. He was the tenderest, most arousing man. It was addictive.

  When I woke, the sun was streaming into the room, the balcony doors open wide to let in the breeze and sunlight.

  Kashnikov was spooning me from behind. We were both naked, his soft cock nestled in my ass, his hand cupping my breast, even in sleep.

  I smiled from ear to ear. What a wonderful man.

  Still, my nose wrinkled as I took a deep breath. The room smelled strongly of sex, and I knew I was dirty, head to toe, so the first order of business was a shower.

  Kashnikov didn’t rouse as I escaped, pulling myself carefully out of his hold. He’d worn us both out.

  I soaped myself head to toe, running my hands over all of the places he’d taken me. I was sore, but it felt delicious, my flesh singing in anticipation for where he’d bury himself next. My sex was sorest of all, but I wanted to wake him up by riding his dick cowgirl style. I wanted to rock his world.

  I dried off and put on one of the hotel’s cozy robes. I smiled when I saw he was just waking up, but frowned when I heard a knock on the door.

  “It’s probably room service,” he said, sitting up. “Would you mind getting that while I shower? I smell like sex, and if I look at you for five more seconds I’m going to fuck you again instead of eating, and at this point, we both could use some food.” He passed by me, kissing me tenderly on the cheek as he went.

  I was still wearing a bemused, besotted smile as I answered the door.

  I couldn’t have been more shocked when I opened it and came face to face with Sheila.

  “I’d like to speak to Kashnikov. Alone, please.” She waved a hand behind her like she thought I should just walk out right then.

  I smiled and invited her in. “He’s in the shower. Have a seat. I thought you guys left last night on your honeymoon?”

  She looked uncomfortable as she perched herself on one of the living room’s chairs. “We were supposed to, but I . . . couldn’t. I have some things I needed to say to Kash.”

  “And your new husband is fine with that? Fine with postponing your honeymoon so you can have a heart to heart with your ex? The ex you were still with when you started sleeping with him.”

  She had the grace to look ashamed. “It wasn’t like we planned it,” she said to me in a small voice. “At the time, Kash was traveling almost constantly for six months. I rarely saw him, and when I did, he was at his most distant. I’m sure you know how he gets.” Her breath was trembling out like she might cry at any moment. “I was lonely, and Danny was there for me, emotionally more than physically, but eventually it went there. It was an indiscretion, one that I still deeply regret.

  “You still want him,” I accused. I hated her.

  “Yes, I still want him. I always will.”

  “But you chose Danny.”

  “Because I couldn’t have them both. But if you want to know the truth, it wasn’t really my choice. As soon as he caught me being unfaithful, I knew that he’d never forgive me. He ended it. He still loved me, but his pride was stronger.”

  “You still love him,” I accused. I really hated her.

  “Yes, I still love him. I love them both, but I’d go back to him today if he’d take me. That’s why I’m here. To ask him one last time if he’ll have me back.”

  “So why did you marry Danny?”

  “I told you. I love him.”

  “But not like you love Kashnikov.”

  “No, not like that. You know how Kash is. He consumes you. I’d take that feeling over anything. I don’t know what you have with him, but I promise you that what I have is stronger. Why do you think you’re even here? Why do you think he couldn’t stay away from my wedding? He still wants me. He still loves me.”

  I moved into the bedroom on trembling legs, closing and locking the door behind me. She was right. Kashnikov must have known she’d do this.

  It was his whole purpose for coming.

  I was such a fool.

  I threw on the first thing I saw, grabbing whatever I could carry.

  And I waited. When he stepped out of the steaming bathroom, wearing nothing but his towel, I could barely stand to look at him, he was so blindingly perfect.

  “Sheila is in the other room,” I told him blankly.

  He studied me from head to toe, his face a stoic mask. “Are you leaving?” he asked me in a careful voice.

  “That depends on you. Are you going to talk to her? I assume you know what she wants.”

  I couldn’t read a thing from his face, but I thought his answer said it all.

  “Yes, I’ll talk to her. I’ll hear her out. Now tell me what you’re doing. Are you leaving?”

  “She wants you back. She’s willing to leave her new husband for you. You could end her marriage with one word. Is that why you came here? To destroy them?”

  He flinched, guilt written all over his face, and I thought I might be ill.

  “I can’t believe you,” I said in disgust. I’d known what this was, but I was still hurt, jealous beyond all rationality. “You want her back?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he said, his voice even. “I said I’d hear her out. Now you need to calm down.”

  He’d broken the universal law about telling a woman to calm down as you broke her heart.

  I kept it together, though, on the outside at least. I grabbed my purse, and started backing towards the door.

  His brows drew together in concern, and he held his arms out, taking a step toward me.

  I held up a hand when I saw he was going to speak. “It’s fine. Hear her o
ut. I’ll give you some space. Do what you need to.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked, and for the first time his composure seemed to crack. “Don’t be silly. Don’t do something rash, lapochka. You don’t need to go anywhere.”

  I did, though. If they were about to reconcile, I knew in my heart that I could not take seeing it firsthand.

  I smiled with false cheerfulness. “I’m not being silly. You guys clearly need some privacy. I’ll just go down and have a cup of coffee, okay? You can come and get me when you figure out what you want.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked in a very carefully controlled voice.

  I was close to losing my composure, so I turned away, heading for the door. “It doesn’t mean anything,” I said lightly. “Just do what you came here to do, Kashnikov.”

  I fled. I didn’t stop for coffee. I walked out the front door and straight to valet. “Can someone order me a car fast. One that can take me all the way home. It’s a five hour drive.”

  It was a five star property, so of course they accommodated me. They had a car service on hand, employed by the resort, drivers readily available.

  A black car pulled up less than two minutes after I made the request.

  I was even able to charge it to Mr. Kashnikov’s room.

  I smiled thinly when they told me that, but immediately took them up on the offer.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I had way too much time to think on that very long drive. At first I played on my phone to distract myself and pass the time, but about thirty minutes after I’d left him, he began to text me.

  Where are you? Was the first text.

  I ignored it. About a minute later another message chimed.

  You said you were going down for coffee. Are you at the coffee shop?

  I ignored that one too, just staring down at the words. Did that mean he’d gone down to look for me?

  I was afraid to hope.

  Where did you go?

  The texts were getting closer together, chiming one after another.

  WHERE ARE YOU?

  And then he began to call.

  I turned off my phone. I knew that if I answered at that moment, I’d lose all of my pride, and say something completely idiotic.

 

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