How could that arouse me so much? I was independent, not about to be owned—

He buried his face between my legs, groaning against my lips.

“Ruso!” Even as my knees fell wide, my gaze locked on his length, on the bead glistening atop that plump crown. “I need your taste too.”

“You want to suck me?”

“Yes!”

Another dark laugh. He maneuvered around to kneel above me, aiming his shaft to my mouth.

Though I’d never sixty-nined before, I eagerly parted my lips for him, tonguing the tip. He continued kissing me so sensuously, but I had to lift my head to get any of his length. Why wouldn’t he give me more? “Más, Ruso.”

“You said you’ve never taken a cock deep,” he rasped between licks. “You want your fantasy?”

“I don’t know. . . . Maybe I could try?”

He released me, then moved to stand beside the bed. He pulled me bodily until my head hung back off the edge of the mattress. Then he stepped over me, positioning my head between his muscular thighs. With the height of the bed, this put his cock and heavy balls just above me.

“Máxim?”

As he guided his shaft down to my open lips, he said, “Take breaths between my thrusts.”

Qué?

He fed his cock into my mouth, then cupped his hands behind my neck.

Oh! I knew this position. Ivanna had called it the “throat swab.” Like this, his dick slid in at a much better angle. Deeper than I’d ever taken one.

But when the crown went too far, I tensed at the sensation, jerking back. My legs drew up defensively.

He pulled out. “Relax, dushen’ka. You can take me,” he said, and he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

For some reason, that random touch—amid all the dirty sex of the last twenty-four hours—affected me so much. When he sank in once more, I ordered my body to relax.

“Good. That’s it.” He pulled out. “Breathe.” Once I’d inhaled, he slowly thrust again.

We did that twice more, with his hands cradling my neck. His thumbs lightly rubbed my throat, guiding me, coaxing . . . until the crown breached deep.

I was doing it! This way was so much easier! Or was it because of the man?

“You’re deep-throating me, Katya.” He sounded proud, which messed with my mind—and aroused me to a frenzy. I moaned around him.

“Taking it so good.” He withdrew, widening his stance. “Breathe.”

I inhaled, greedy for more. On his next thrust, I swallowed him even deeper, reaching behind me to grip the muscles of his ass. Soon we had a perfect rhythm between his thrusts and my breaths, in sync again.

“Take it . . . take it . . . such a good girl . . .” He was teaching me, praising me, and I grew ravenous for him. “My cum will shoot straight into you.”

I moaned again.

“You like this. I can feel your moans as well as hear them. Breathe, baby.”

I dimly remembered a trick Ivanna had told me drove some men crazy. As my throat received Sevastyan and my hands cupped his ass, I dipped my fingers between his cheeks.

“Dushen’ka?” In a hoarse voice, he said, “Are you going to be wicked with me?”

I circled my forefinger at his center. To the sound of his groans, I prodded and prodded.

I penetrated—

“Uhhhn!” His mighty thighs quaked around my ears. “You’re taking my cum before I’m ready!”

I moaned again, and he bellowed, “Katya!” Against my tongue, his shaft began to pump. With a growl, he fucked my mouth, shooting creamy torrents inside me.

I drank while his thumbs helped his cum down my throat, his grip on my neck possessive but . . . tender.

Then came a last shudder. A final spurt of hot seed.

A long ragged groan . . .

He pulled out of my mouth, drawing away to return to the other side of the bed. Between breaths, he said, “Now it’s your turn.” Again, he seized an ankle and dragged me to him. As he leaned down, his harsh exhalations heated my jutting clitoris, my swollen lips, and the sensitive opening between. “You’re already on the verge. Deep-throating me got your pussy even wetter? Or maybe you liked exploring your master’s body? Ask permission to come.”

Despite my need, I wasn’t going to obey. “Can I come”—I bucked up, offering myself—“is what I’m supposed to say. But don’t you want to make me orgasm?”

Accent thick, he said, “I’ll punish you for that later. You want me to, don’t you? For now, I’m going to lick your needy little clit.” He lashed it with his tongue—once, twice, three times—and I screamed as my climax began.

Coiled tension exploded. I fisted the sheets and thrashed my head. Mouth hot and tongue hungry, he forced my aching pussy to contract again and again. . . .

He kept kissing me. Too sensitive! Too much! I had to twist my hips before he released me.

He sat on the bed and collected me in his arms. Claiming my lips, he gave me my taste, taking his own, our tongues lazily twining.

I was soon primed for round two, but he drew back. He affectionately tucked a curl behind my ear, making me sigh. “You just sucked me off, and you didn’t negotiate a price. I think you’re beginning to like me.”

“Pendejo!” I disentangled myself from his arms.

“Should I start a ‘donation’ tab?”

“Bésame el culo!” I stormed into the bathroom. Inside, I gazed at my reflection, attempting to process what had just happened.