11. Betrayal (2)

Brooklyn

They're divorce hasn't even been finalized. 

Even though Kir has told me repeatedly that their separation has nothing to do with my return, I just find it hard to believe. 

A ragged scream rips from my throat, my entire body arching off the bed as Kir clamps his mouth to my pussy and tongues me through my first orgasm into a second one.

Then a third.

After that, it all goes blurry and melty.

I'm shaking and gasping for air when he slides up, hovering above me with one hand on the mattress next to my head and the other cupping my jaw. His mouth crashes to mine, and I whimper, kissing him eagerly, tasting my sweetness on his lips and tongue.

Then suddenly, he pulls back and scoops me up into his arms, cradling my naked, shaking body against his still-clothed one.

A lazy smile creeps over my mouth as I look up into his eyes when he starts to carry me out of the room.

"Are you going to fuck me now?" I whisper.

Darkness flashes in his eyes for half a second before he shakes his head.

"That isn't how this is going to work, Brooklyn."

My brows knit as he takes me down an opulent hallway.

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't transactional." He glances down at me, frowning. "You owe me nothing."

My lips twist. "But...what if I want⁠-"

"You don't want to, trust me. Not yet." Kir's jaw is tight, his eyes straight ahead as he carries me through the house. "You're not ready for the way I want to fuck you, babygirl," he murmurs quietly.

That...shouldn't sound as tempting as it does.

We step into a room, and he gently sets me down. When I turn, my pulse skips and my eyes open wide, my mouth falling open.

Fuck.

The guestroom or wherever I was before was gorgeous. But the vast, elegant bedroom before me is nothing short of pure luxury.

Huge windows, draped in white, with little Juliet balconies off them. A sitting area with a couch and two chairs. A door leading to a stunning bathroom, and against the far wall, an enormous, white, four-poster bed.

"What is this?" I whisper.

Kir takes a slow breath as he turns to me.

"This, babygirl, is your room."

I blink as I stare at him. "What?"

"I told you: you live here now."

I start to say something, but he cuts me off.

"It's not up for discussion, Brooklyn," he murmurs. "This is your house now. And this..." He turns to nod at the room. "Is your bedroom."

I feel a brief pang and want to ask why I'm being sequestered in my own room instead of...well...sharing his. I don't even think of my sister in this moment. I can't. I'm selfish when it comes to him.

But then, when his possessive, fiercely protective gaze slides over me again, I get it, and my heart melts.

He's not keeping me at a distance.

He's giving me space to be me. To feel comfortable in this house.

And whether or not he knows it, he's just given me what might be the most incredible gift of my life: my own bed.

He walks to the desk in the corner and takes a seat. 

"I understand," I purr, swinging my hips as I walk around the side of his desk.

His eyes flash, dragging slowly up and down my body.

"I'm not sure you understand at all," he murmurs.

I want him so bad I can't even think straight.

I drop to my knees in front of him. For a moment, I see pure need and hunger roaring in his eyes, and my pulse spikes erratically. 

But then his hand shoots out, and his fingers wrap around my throat, squeezing just enough to halt my descent.

"Why," I spit, looking him right in the eye. "What are you so afraid of?"

Kir's lips tighten, his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes pierce into me. "I told you," he rasps, like he's fighting himself. "You aren't ready for⁠-"

"Like fuck I'm not."

Pure, venomous need sparks in his eyes.

"I don't let you touch me, Brooklyn," he hisses, "because every time I see your gorgeous lips, I want to fuck them until they're swollen and covered in my cum. Fuck," he groans. And I don't want you to hate me. I don't want to be the reason for you and your sisters issues--" i cut him off.

Fucking hell.

"I don't care about that-" I wanted him before. Now I'm fucking ravenous for him.

"I want to use your mouth like a hole," he snarls. "And when I fuck you, pretty girl," he chokes, "I'm not going to make love to you. I'm going to fuck you, hard, without mercy, probably with your wrists bound, your legs tied to a spreader bar, and my hand around your throat." The vein in his temple throbs almost in time with the hammering of my pulse. "And with what you've seen, you're not⁠-"

"You don't get to tell me what I am or am not ready for," I say evenly, meeting his eyes unflinchingly.

Time seems to stand still. Finally, he takes a slow, measured breath, his eyes never once leaving mine.

"If we're going to do this⁠-"

"We are," I blurt.

His lips curl darkly at the corners. "Then we'll do it my way."

Heat drips down my spine to pool between my legs as I kneel before him.

"Meaning?" I whisper.

Kir's eyes flicker.

"Meaning stand up and walk back to the door."

My brow furrows, anger surging inside of me.

"But you said⁠-"

"Do you trust me, babygirl?"

I blink.

"Do. You. Trust. Me," Kir growls. "If you don't, implicitly, then we're not⁠-"

"I do trust you," I breathe, shaking. "Sir."

A sound rumbles low in his chest, his eyes dragging over my body before locking on my eyes again.

"Then stand up, walk over there, and wait until I tell you what to do."

I shiver, biting back a whimper when he reaches out and cups my jaw. My nerves, excitement, and pure need for him are at such a fever pitch that him just touching my skin feels orgasmic.

He slips his fingers from my face, then nods his chin at the door. Breathless, my legs shaking, I stand and walk back to it.

"Stop. Now face me."

A tremor ripples through my core as I turn back to him.

His phone vibrates,"I do need to take this call," he murmurs.

I nod. "I understand."

"Good girl."

Fuck...

"On your hands and knees," he says, his voice low and raspy, his veined hand stroking his chiseled jawline as his eyes slide over me.

I get down to the floor, placing my palms on the sumptuous area rug.

"Now crawl to me."

A bolt of fierce, vicious wickedness explodes through my body. My thighs clench tightly together, heat burning between them as my nipples tighten.

"Yes, sir."

Kir watches me steadily as he picks the phone up, touches the screen, and brings it to his ear. He starts speaking in Russian again, but his eyes never leave me as I crawl all the way to his desk and around the side until I'm between his spread legs.

I look up at him, my lower lip caught between my teeth as our eyes lock.

He just nods and mouths "good girl" before barking into the phone.

It's outrageously hot. Alarmingly, disturbingly so, to the point that my hands shake when I sit up on my knees and let my palms land on his thighs.

I feel his quads flex under the fabric of his trousers, and my pulse skips when my gaze drags up and I see the tight, throbbing bulge.

My hands slide up his legs until they reach his belt. My fingers tremble as I undo it and pull it open, looking up to see his eyes drilling into me as he speaks into the phone. My skin tingles, my core clenching and spasming as I pop the button of his trousers.

I struggle with undoing the zipper, because he's so hard that his cock's tenting his trousers and making it difficult. But I finally manage to drag it down and then slip my fingers inside the waist of his pants. When I tug those down, my throat bobs, my eyes widening as they land on the huge bulge in his black boxer briefs.

A needy throb curls and twists and flexes 

inside me. I lick my lips.

He looks really fucking big.

Kir growls something into the phone and then covers the mouthpiece with his hand as his eyes lock with mine.

"Take it out, babygirl," he purrs. "Take it out so I can feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

My pulse hammers in my ears as I slip my fingers into the elastic and peel the boxers down from his hips.

I wondered the other day, when I first woke up here, how it could all be real....I suddenly have the exact same question when Kir's huge, thick, veined, swollen cock slips free of his boxers and swings up to slap against his stomach.

What.

The.

Fuck.

My jaw drops as I just stare at him.

He's fucking massive. Enormously so. Like where-do-you-hide-the-bodies. It is, without question, the largest cock I've ever seen in my life, including p**n.

Big dick energy.

My pulse skips, my breathing turning ragged as my eyes simply take him in, widening when I see the vein down the underside of him pulse, and a thick drop of precum bead at the tip.

I tremble as I reach for him. My fingers curl around his thickness, and my mouth drops open even further when I feel him pulse in my hand like silken steel.

My fingers don't actually touch when they wrap around his cock.

Slowly, I start to move my hand, stroking up and down, thrilling at the feel of him in my grip. I can feel him swelling-somehow, impossibly, growing even larger in my hand.

My eyes slide up to his, and when I see the fierce, hungry look in them, a feeling of power shudders through me.

I did this.

He's hard and big for me.

I bite back a moan as I squeeze my thighs together, feeling the needy heat between them soaking into my panties. My eyes stay locked on Kir as I lean forward and open my mouth.

He tenses, his jaw clenching as I drag my tongue up the underside of his swollen head. I do it again and again, growing bolder as my tongue swirls over his crown, tasting the salty-sweet drop of precum leaking from the hole at the tip.

Fuck, he even tastes good.

I look up at him again, feeling the raw power in his gaze heating my skin, empowering me. 

My mouth opens wider, and with my eyes locked on his, I wrap my lips around his head.

God, is he big. My jaw stretches, my hand stroking up and down as I push my mouth down over his crown, barely getting an inch of it into my mouth.

I slide back off, whimpering a little as I tongue the underside of him. I drag my mouth lower, teasing my tongue down his veined shaft until the wet tip of it swirls over his heavy, swollen balls.

Kir grunts, pulling the phone away from his mouth for a second as his eyes flash. He grits his teeth, slowly bringing the phone back to his ear and grunting Russian into it. His other hand slides down, and when he tangles my hair into a fist, a heated thrill snakes through me.

I slide my tongue back up, swirling it around his head before I take him into my mouth again. This time, emboldened and more determined, I relax my jaw and sink my lips down his shaft, managing to take more of him into my mouth.

His whole face goes taut, his teeth flashing. His fist tightens in my hair, sending a pulse of heat into my core as I moan around him, pushing my mouth even further down onto his cock. The head hits the back of my throat, and I stay like that, whimpering around him, feeling my spit drip and drool out of the corners of my mouth and trickle down his 

shaft.

I pull off him with a gasp, my eyes watering as I look up at him with a needy ache that makes my head spin.

Kir's still trying to continue whatever conversation he's having on the phone. For some reason, that's just turning me on even more.

I tongue the underside of him and slide down to suck on his heavy balls again, getting them slick with my tongue before I drag my mouth back to his head. I look up at him, locking my gaze with his. My core tightens.

"Use my mouth, sir," I murmur quietly, my pulse thudding. "Fuck my lips."

This time, he doesn't say that I'm not ready. 

He just locks those dark devil eyes with mine, wraps my hair around his fist, and mj1qouths the word, "Open."

I do so, my core clenching as I ease my mouth down to his head. Then he thrusts up into my mouth.

Fucking YES.

To be continued...