who sees. He’s the man of the house. The one in charge of everyone and everything in this mansion. If he wants to fuck me on the counter in the kitchen during broad daylight, that’s his prerogative.
Matvei is in complete control. Saying it in my head spurs the burning desire between my legs even more.
He lowers his head and begins dragging his lips over my bare stomach, pausing to kiss around my belly button. Matvei inches lower and lower until he finds the button on my jeans. He undoes it and tugs them down to my ankles, leaving me barely covered by my bra and the thin fabric of my lacy panties.
When his lips graze over the front of my underwear, I gasp, propping myself up on my elbows. I try to get a better look, but his hand is on my chest again, pushing me down.
“No,” he says. I don’t even think about arguing with him.
His movements are slow at first. His tongue is precise, working its way over the folds of the fabric, wetting it even more. Satisfied, he pulls my panties down and returns to his position, tongue teasing me. I’ll never get used to the feeling of his tongue on me, and I cup my breasts in my hand, writhing as he explores me.
Matvei’s rugged, weathered fingers feel perfect against my clit, and as he laps away at me, his draws circles, massaging me, pulling the most desperate of cries from my lips. It takes everything in me not to lose it completely. I have to be quiet, so I don’t draw attention to us, but God if Matvei doesn’t make that a herculean task.
He’s an expert with his moves, and if I were standing, I’m sure he’d make my knees weak. He greedily works his tongue over me, again and again, before he presses inside. That small amount of stretching, combined with the relentless massaging, makes me gasp.
“Yes,” I shudder, clamping a hand over my mouth. “God, yes.” The moans don’t stop, and I don’t think I could stop them if I wanted to. It’s as if being with him like this makes me lose my mind entirely. I don’t think logically with Matvei Morozov between my legs.
Just as I’m about to reach my orgasm, he stops.
For a moment, I don’t know what to say. I could complain, but I don’t think that would get me very far. I sit up to look at him. He’s undoing the fly of his jeans. A brief second later, Matvei pulls himself from his pants.
“Is this what you want?” he asks, a dark look in his eye.
I nod. “Yes.”
“I want you to beg for it.”
“Please, Matvei,” I murmur, looking up at him through my lashes. “I need it. I need you.”
That seems to work like a charm, because he steps between my legs and grabs my hips, pulling me close and slowly filling me. He doesn’t stop until he’s completely sunk to the hilt, his body pressed to mine. I part my lips to moan, but before I can, he’s on me, kissing me as he works his hips. He pulls back far and then snaps forward, thrusting inside of me with a steady rhythm.
I try to keep up with him, rolling my hips in time with his, but just when I find the right speed, he switches it and tries to keep me on my toes. I let out a laugh, overcome with the feeling of pleasure and slight annoyance at his game.
“Fuck,” he whispers against my lips. How quickly he’s gone from pissed at me to desiring nothing more than being inside of me. I place my hand on the back of his head and kiss him deeply, brushing tongues and dragging mine over his teeth, greedy to feel every part of him.
He fucks me harder than before, fingers digging into my hips as he jerks forward and back. I can feel my orgasm swelling inside of me, but I don’t fight it anymore. I let Matvei have every part of me, every last bit of my pleasure, and when the wave crashes over me, I cry out into his mouth.
“That’s it,” he growls, snapping forward even harder than before. “Come for me, Victoria.”
And I do. I feel lightheaded from the intensity, but I cling to him, riding out the head high. Just as I come down, he grabs my ass and lifts me from the counter. Matvei lifts me with strength I didn’t know he