Midnight Purgatory (Bugrov Bratva #1)(38)

My first boyfriend once told me that I looked like I was smelling a rotten egg every time he came on my belly. When we broke up, I told him that a rotten egg smelled a hell of a lot better than his cum.

Needless to say, we didn’t stay friends.

I can’t imagine that there’s any part of Uri I wouldn’t crave, though. And the thought of him pulling out of me and erupting on my stomach…

“Mmm…”

“Are you gonna come for me, narushitel?”

I don’t have the spare brain cells to remember what that little nickname means, but honestly, part of me kinda likes that. It just means me. And coming from his lips, in that raspy, Russian-accented growl? That’s a clit stimulator all on its own.

“Yes!” I whine. “Yes. Yes. Yes!”

I orgasm with my eyes on him, drinking in his reaction, waiting for him to reach down, to free his cock and touch himself. But he doesn’t. Not even as my body writhes and explodes. He may not have touched me but we both know he’s the one responsible for every second of my pleasure.

My hands drop; my fingers actually feel a little sore. And as they do, a shadow falls over me, cutting the light in half.

Uri is standing by the edge of the bed, watching me with a hunter’s gaze. And yet I’ve never felt safer. I’ve never felt calmer.

I’ve never wanted a man to touch me more.

I sit up and reach for the buckle of his pants. He doesn’t stop me, so I unbuckle him and pull them down. My mouth fills with saliva as I pull his boxer briefs down next.

This is new, too.

Blowjobs have never been my thing. I used to find them tedious and, quite frankly, a little gross. But now that I’m faced with the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen, the idea of putting it in my mouth not only feels natural—it feels necessary.

I engulf him in my mouth and start sucking. I have no idea if I’m doing this right but I figure that dedication will take me pretty far. So I put my hands on his hips and suck him as deep into my mouth as I can take without actually gagging.

My heart is pounding and so is my vagina. Both are practically screaming for attention. His attention, specifically. But I don’t want to take him out of my mouth. I kinda wanna see how far I can take this. If I keep going, will he come in my mouth?

The fact that the very thought has my heart fluttering harder is strange and out of character. Who am I? No—who is he making me?

I’m settling into the blowjob when Uri suddenly pulls out of my grasp and backs away. The first thing I feel is disappointment. Then nerves.

Was I not good enough? Was he bored? Did I hurt him with my eagerness?

Before I can ask any of those questions, he shoves me back onto the bed and I bounce pitifully in place. I get about a millisecond to keep wondering what I did wrong before he’s on top of me. He steadies me with his body and I draw in a breath as his heat slides over mine.

This kind of thing would have had my skin crawling a month ago. But right now, it’s making my toes curl. It’s making the wetness drip down my thighs.

“Uri…” I gasp as my lips latch onto the side of his neck.

He snarls hungrily as his erection presses firmly against my thigh. I part my legs a little wider, hoping that he takes that as the invitation it’s meant to be. But he still holds himself away.

“Mm, eager little narushitel…” he snarls, nipping at my ear. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

He dips a little lower until he’s at eye level with my breasts. He squeezes one, pushing my nipple up high before he circles it with his tongue.

God help me.

I’m aware of how needy I’m being, trying to push my hips against his, moaning and writhing and trying to tempt him into taking me the way I want him to. I’m practically a porn star at this point.

But even my best attempts don’t seem to have an effect on him.

Well, that’s not true. His eyes are blazing with lust. I don’t know much about men, but I know lust when I see it. I know he wants me but for some reason, he’s holding back.

He sucks my nipple into his mouth again and I groan. I can feel his cock at my lips and—

I gasp when he pushes into me. Not his cock—his fingers.

“You’re so wet for me, Alyssa. You’re fucking dripping all over my hand.”

I was right about one thing: he is gonna kill me—just not in the way I thought.

“Uri!” It comes out sounding breathless and angry and frustrated all at the same time.

He raises his head and chuckles cruelly. “What’s wrong, pretty kiska? Something bothering you?”

“Stop teasing me!”

Another dark chuckle. “Is that what you want?” he asks, rubbing his cock against my slit. He’s still not inside me, but another inch, two maybe, and he will be.

“Yes. Yes… aah…”

He grabs my hands and pins them down on either side of my face. Then he presses himself down against me. “If you want me to do this, I want something from you.”

I should’ve known there’d be strings attached. The proper answer here is “hell no.” I should be pushing him off me and drawing a firm line in the sand. But instead, I nod feverishly. “What do you want?”

Real empowered there, girl. Nice work. You just set feminism back a hundred years.

“I want you to let go,” he whispers into my ear. “I want you to give yourself over to me. If I feel you holding back, there will be punishment.”