Chapter 165
I caught Sasha’s chin, tilting her face up. Her eyes weren’t just hungry; they were wild, dilated with a need that bordered on pain. I could smell her—a heady mix of heat, strawberry gloss, and the musk of a woman who’d been winding herself tight for hours.
She lunged for a kiss, her mouth desperate, but I caught her shoulders and held her back. I wanted her to simmer. I wanted to see her boil over.
She flashed a grin, but it was jagged, full of a furious, impatient hunger.
I wrapped a hand around the column of her throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her who was directing this scene.
I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers, a whisper of a touch that made her gasp, before I pulled back just out of reach.
My free hand moved lower, catching one of her breasts and squeezing firmly. She winced, a sharp, needy sound catching in her throat as her back arched off the silk.
"Come on, Druski... please," she broke, her voice a wrecked whisper. "I’ve been waiting all night. I’m crawling out of my skin... I can’t do this anymore." She grabbed my wrist, trying to pull me into her. "Stop talking. Just fuck me. I want to feel how big you are... I want you to stretch me until I can’t breathe."
I didn’t give her a choice. I crashed my mouth onto hers, a hard, demanding kiss that tasted like conquest. Our tongues tangled, hers fighting mine with a frantic, rhythmic fire that mirrored the way her hips were already bucking.
I let my hand wander, tracing the sweat-slicked line of her ribs down to the flat plane of her belly, finally reaching the heat between her thighs. My fingers stalled, encountering something new.
"Aah... you’ve grown a bush down here," I murmured against her lips, my voice a low vibration. "I hadn’t noticed."
She’d always kept herself hairless, smooth as marble. Now, there was a soft, dark thicket waiting for me.
She let out a breathless, jagged giggle. "Thought it was time for a change. You like it?"
"I do," I said, my voice dropping an octave as I began to stroke the curls, the texture a new friction against my palm. "It’s thick. Neat. Makes you look even more like a fucking animal."
I didn’t wait for her to answer. I buried my fingers deep, spreading the swollen, wet silk of her lips and finding the center of her storm. When my thumb hooked over her clit, her eyes rolled back into her head.
"Fuck, baby!!" she hissed, her nails digging into my forearms as her body buckled under the contact.
I curled my fingers deep inside her, hooking them against the sensitive, ribbed ceiling of her vagina. I began to pipe her with a slow, agonizingly deliberate rhythm—in and out, stretching the slick, stinging heat of her until she was sobbing into my mouth, her tongue dancing a frantic, rhythmic battle against mine.
Each time I bottomed out, I felt her inner muscles clench around me like a drowning person grasping for air.
I broke the kiss, trailing a line of fire with my lips down the tendon of her neck, my breath hot against her skin. I worked my way up to her earlobe, catching the soft flesh between my teeth and giving it a sharp, possessive tug.
"Fuck me, Druski... oh God, please, just fuck me now," she cried out, her voice cracking, her fingers knotting into the charcoal sheets until the silk threatened to tear.
"You’re so goddamn impatient, aren’t you?" I whispered into the shell of her ear, my voice a low, gravelly rasp. "You want it all at once. But I think I want to take my time with this."
I grabbed her hips—those perfect, flared handles—and flipped her over. I forced her to lie flat on her stomach, her face pressed into the pillows, her spine an elegant, trembling arch.
From behind, she was a masterpiece of carnality. The curve of her ass was high and firm, two pale moons divided by the dark, invitation of her shadow. And there, tucked between the tops of her thighs, her pussy was a swollen, glistening rose, framed by the dark, soft curls of her new "bush." It was weeping for me, the nectar of her arousal silvering the skin of her inner thighs.
"Fuck, you are so beautiful, baby," I muttered, the sight of her making my own pulse throb in my throat.
I reached out and pulled the drawer of the nightstand open, the wood scraping softly in the quiet room. I pulled out a heavy glass bottle of jasmine oil.
I popped the cap, and the scent—sweet, floral, and heavy—immediately cut through the room. I tilted the bottle, letting a thick, amber stream of oil cascade down the small of her back. It pooled in the dip of her spine before overflowing, running in shimmering rivulets down the slopes of her buttocks and soaking into the dark hair between her legs.
"I want to fuck you while you’re all oily and wet," I said, my voice dropping to a predatory growl. I began to massage the oil into her skin, my palms slick and heavy, turning her body into a frictionless, glowing landscape of pure friction and heat. "I want to feel you sliding against me until we both forget where I end and you begin."
She let out a long, shuddering moan, her fingers clawing at the mattress. "Then stop talking... and get inside me."
I tilted the bottle, letting the amber liquid fall in a slow, viscous stream from the nape of her neck all the way down the deep, elegant trench of her spine. It pooled in the small of her back before I used my palms to spread the heat, my hands slick and heavy as I buffed the jasmine scent into her skin. Under the morning light, she began to shimmer like polished marble, every muscle in her back twitching under my touch.
I moved lower, my hands cupping the full, rounded weight of her ass. I kneaded the flesh, the oil making my grip slide and friction-free, turning the act into something primal. She let out a long, low vibration of a moan, her face buried in the pillows, her hips rolling instinctively against the mattress.
"You’re so tight, Sasha," I growled, my voice thick with the sight of her.
I let my oiled fingers wander further south, dipping into the shadowed valley between her cheeks. I coated the dark, soft curls of her "bush" until they glistened, then slid my hand underneath her, findng the soaking, swollen heat of her pussy. With the oil acting as a lubricant, the sensation was electric—fluid and frictionless. I traced the outer lips, painting them with the jasmine silk before sliding a single finger deep inside her.
She let out a sharp, jagged cry, her back arching so hard I could see the individual vertebrae of her spine.
"God, Druski... it’s so... it’s too much," she wheezed, her breath hitching.
I didn’t stop.
I used the oil to massage her clit in slow, heavy circles, my thumb slick and relentless. The wet, rhythmic sounds of the oil mingling with her own natural arousal filled the room, a private, filthy symphony. I watched the way her skin flushed a deep, bruised rose, her entire body vibrating as she fought the climax I was still teasing out of her.
I leaned over her, my chest pressing against her oiled back, the slide of skin-on-skin making me growl. I caught her ear in my teeth again, whispering through the haze of her pleasure.
"I could stay back here all night just watching you come apart," I murmured. "Do you want me to stop, or do you want to feel how much I’ve missed this?"