There’s a prude part of me that says I shouldn’t be okay with waking up to a man eating out my pussy. But that part gets drowned out by the newly discovered nasty girl part of me saying, “Yes, yes. Please don’t stop.”
He doesn’t stop. And the prude voice inside my head goes mute as I arch my back off the couch and orgasm beneath Cheslav’s relentless mouth.
After I come down, he crawls up my body and finds my lips. This time the ones on top. Then he deep kisses those too while putting on a condom.
He still hasn’t spoken, but he doesn’t have to. I’m in full agreement with every silent order as he pushes into me.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, he picks me up and carries me to the window. Then he starts fucking me again, this time while looking down at the stadium where he plays.
“You will come to my game on Thursday,” he commands, his voice harsh in my ear.
Thursday…
“But that morning is my last day with you.”
He suddenly stops fucking me and shifts his gaze from over my shoulder and directly to me.
“Da…” he answers. “Our designated time together ends on Thursday morning, and the game is Thursday night.”
I shift against the windows cool glass, suddenly feeling awkward and heavy. “But that’s outside the scope of our agreement.”
“I would like you to come to game.” Cheslav’s voice is as grim as mine is confused. “My brother will meet you. Afterward, we all go for dinner.”
I blink. “You want me to meet your family?”
“Da. It is how you American’s say? NBD. No big deal.”
I jut out my chin. “Meeting your brother kind of feels like a big deal, Cheslav.”
Cheslav shrugs. “My brother would have come to game anyway.”
I cut my eyes to the side, not sure how to answer. He’s saying it’s NBD, but this thing between us was only supposed to last five days. Also, what he’s proposing sounds like a date, and my no athlete dating policy still stands.
“Billie…”
I inwardly jolt. This is the first time he has called me by my name. And when I look back up at him, I find his expression softer. Almost tender. “I would like you to come. I’m asking you to please come to game and sit in stands and watch. Will you come?”
Will I? A curl of hunger for something more than sex with Cheslav suddenly erupts inside me. He’s so curious and mysterious. What would it be like to get to know him beyond this penthouse? To cheer for him and meet the brother he’s hoping to best?
This guy must have really done a number on me because I find myself pushing aside my no athletes policy to answer, “Sure.”
A smile spreads across his face. Then he presses his head into the glass beside my head as he starts moving inside of me again.
And it doesn’t take long.
No, it doesn’t take long at all until I’m falling apart. Again.
Chapter Ten
Cheslav wakes me up late on Wednesday morning, his lips pressing into my mouth and his heavy erection pressing into my thigh.
“Again?” I ask him, half groan, half laugh.
“I am hungry for both breakfast and you this morning,” he answers, before devouring my mouth.
Maybe this sexual hunger first thing in the morning is catching. Despite having done it like, four times yesterday, I kiss him back, just as hungrily.
At least for a little while. I draw in a sharp breath when he rolls me onto my back, still kissing me.
He immediately raises. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“Sorry, I’m not in as good as shape as you,” I answer with a sheepish look. “I’m a little sore from using all sorts of muscles that haven’t ever been worked out this hard.”
I expect him to smirk, but his eyes widen with concern. “Do you want to stop?” he asks, his voice somber.
I blink up at him. “What? You’re giving me a choice?”
He shakes his head at me. “I have no want to hurt you, krasotka. You know this, da?”
Now I do….
My heart twinges with a soft emotion I don’t dare to name. And I find myself saying, “It’s okay. A little soreness is worth doing it again. With you.”
Not exactly my most poetic moment ever, but his whole face lights up.
Still, he handles me a lot more gently this morning than last night. He rubs at my most erotic zones, his touch soft and tender, until a gentle climax ripples through me.
Then, draping one of my legs over his muscular thigh, he pushes into my wetness while we both lie on our sides.
All thoughts of soreness disappear as we find our rhythm in this new position. And soon I come again, this time with him.
“Sleep a little more, krasotka. I will make us something to eat.”
“You know how to cook?” I murmur sleepily. I haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t delivered since I stepped foot in this place.
