Page 64 of Mistaken
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh, even though his tickling has escalated to the point where I’m writhing like a demented eel.
“Or do you meanthesefingers?” He’s kneeling over me now, using both hands and attacking my soft midsection. Pausing the torture for a moment, Maksim looms over me with an evil little grin. “You do know where you are the most susceptible to ticklish torment?”
“No?” I wheeze, trying to catch my breath.
“Here!” The heartless reprobate attacks my inner thighs which are indeed horribly ticklish and I’m screaming with laughter within seconds. Damn him, there’s no holding out and I’m kicking and laughing hard enough to make my stomach hurt, trying to bat him away with my flailing hands.
Thank god, the man stops torturing me just before I’m about to wet myself, and my hysterical laughter tapers down to some gurgling as we watch each other. We’re pressed together, my heaving chest is rubbing against his beautifully sculpted pectorals. Maksim’s pale eyes were actually warm, not cold, and calculating as always.
“I’m pretty sure tickle torture was outlawed by the Geneva Convention, Maksim.” I manage, still trying to catch my breath.
His full lips twitched. “I do hope you won’t report me to the High Court in Belgium, Ella.”
“Well, Maksim, I’m sure you can see this is a serious offense,” I countered, a little excited and freaked out. Was this grim Russian monolith actually beingplayfulwith me?
His gaze went up and down the front of me, and Maksim gave me an evil little smile. “Hmmm, Ella, perhaps I can offer some kind of compensation for your pain and suffering?”
My suddenly dry throat made a clicky noise when I swallowed hard. “What, um… What did you have in mind, Maksim?”
He paused as if considering his options, his unreasonably handsome face fighting a bit of a smile. “Hmm… this, possibly?” Leaning down, he kissed a soft line down my throat. “Or, this.” His mouth moved to my collarbone, the tip of his tongue sliding out to trace the bone.
Now, Maksim was back in full Hot Murder Daddy mode, eyes glinting as his hands tightened on my hips.
“Or, Ella darling,this…”
Maksim…
Why could I not keep my hands off this woman?
Ella was staring up at me, eyes wide but not afraid, which was a refreshing change. I slid down, running my mouth over the soft slope of her breasts after pushing her shirt up.
“Definitely this,” I groaned, pulling her skirt over her hips, then down and off, throwing the fabric over my shoulder. I could feel her jolt with silent laughter again and nipped the silky flesh of her inner thigh, where I’d just tickled her. Her alarmed squeal told me she was still sensitive. Wedging my shoulders between her legs, I spread her legs wide, enjoying the sight of her thin, white panties showing her arousal. I put my mouth against the silk, puffing a breath of hot air against her center.
“Still arms and shoulders?”
Distracted, I looked up.
“Can I still touch your arms and shoulders,” Ella clarified, looking anxious, but based on how her legs were tightening against me, she was still decisively invested in this moment.
Running a knuckle along the delicate crease between her thigh and her pussy, I nodded.
“Your hair?” Ella persisted, “Can I touch your hair?”
“Just don’t pull it.” The words flew out of my mouth and I buried my face against her to stop this odd moment of weakness. I’d never admit that no one was allowed to touch my hair - aside from my barber - because my father used to get a vicious grip on my hair, dragging me down to the basement for another “conditioning session,” where he’d torture me until I passed out or begged for mercy. That latter moment of weakness always guaranteed another “session” the following day.
I lunged, angry but craving the taste of my wife. Nudging her clit with my nose, I circled her opening with my tongue, feeling her flinch slightly as my stubble rasped against her thighs. Tightening my grip, I rubbed my face against her greedily. Her heat, the silky feel of her center, her taste…O Gospodi,nothing was sweeter. Ella came, her back arching and moaning and I grinned against her swollen lips.
“So pretty when you come,????????,”I murmured, enjoying how her breasts heaved as she gasped for air. I kissed each taut nipple on my way back up to brace my arms on either side of her head.
Ella’s black hair - blacker than black and glossy - spread out around her on the pillow, and I twisted a silky lock between my fingers. I’d wrapped her long tail of hair around my fist before, pulled her head back to kiss her while I fucked her from behind. But this wasn’t the time for that. The only time I could stop thinking, plotting, and planning was when I was inside my wife, as deep inside as I could get.
I guided one of her legs to wrap around me, and the other followed, locking her heels together at the small of my back. “Sliding my cock inside you challenges my restraint, every time,” I said, sucking in a harsh gasp of air from the heat and pressure of her inside. “Look at me, don’t close your eyes.”
It took Ella a certain amount of courage to meet my gaze when I was inside her. “So lovely, with your flushed skin, your mouth is wet and open…” I pushed my feet against the mattress, driving in my cock, feeling her walls still rippling from her orgasm. Changing the angle of my thrusts, I watched her pretty eyes widen and she gasped. Pressing the heel of my hand against her abdomen, I grinned. “Do you feel that? That’s me. I can feel my cock pushing from inside you. Your tasty pussy is just full of surprises.”
Sliding my hand under the small of her back, I arched Ella up, stroking in and out of her in slow, easy movements that took all my self-control.
“You’re deeper,” she gasped, “you’re pushing so high that I’ve…” Her hands were slipping on my shoulders, fingers tightening to hold onto me.
