Page 40 of Broken Vows (Marital Privileges #4)

Emerson

T he tenderness of our kiss and the emotions fueling it reveal that feelings don’t fade.

They evolve, becoming more manageable and functional, yet they never truly disappear.

Each lash of our tongues and nip of our teeth are a reminder that love, once ignited, continues to burn within us, despite the heartache we endured.

The warmth of Mikhail’s lips against mine is a reminder of our past, while also being a promise of a better future. Moments like this remind us that feelings aren’t fleeting. They are eternal, woven by the fabric of our souls.

The remembrance sees me raking my nails through his hair. I pull his mouth closer to mine before dueling our tongues together. Through touch, I express my sorrow for the pain he suffered ten years ago, without taking all the blame, and Mikhail does the same.

We communicate without words, and unsurprisingly, things move forward fast when forgiveness is issued in less than a nanosecond.

One minute, I’m kneeling on the carpeted floor near the entrance of Mikhail’s office. The next, my back hugs the plush sofa across from his large desk and my jeans are wrangled down my thighs.

Mikhail trails kisses from the seam of my printed cotton panties to the sensitive skin behind my knees.

His curved lips trace the grooves my skinny jeans forever imprint on my thighs before his focus shifts to the damp patch in the middle of my panties.

His kiss made me wet enough to shadow the cotton, and I’m too horny to act ashamed.

His groan when I sweep my thighs open rumbles through to my clit, and then his hand makes the situation even messier. He backhands my pussy, doubling the throbbing of my clit and forcing my eyes toward the back of my head.

I could come now. I don’t purely because the tension is too blistering to tap out now. I need at least a few more minutes to relish its goodness.

My thighs shake when Mikhail’s thumb finds my clit not even two seconds later. He circles the nervy bud with slow, purposeful swivels before he lifts and locks his eyes with my face.

“Christ, Emmy,” he murmurs after taking in my flushed cheeks and dilated eyes. “You’re almost there already.”

The rasp of his voice almost sets me off, but I hold on tight, confident the reward will far exceed the effort.

The fight almost becomes unwinnable when Mikhail slides my panties to the side and blows a hot breath over my pussy.

Watching the way he worships every squirm he demands from my body is thrilling.

It has me gripping the back of his head like I did earlier.

Except this time, I don’t veer his mouth toward my lips.

I mash it with my pussy.

“So impatient,” he murmurs against my drenched pussy lips before he spears his tongue between the delicate lines and pokes it inside me.

He eats me like he will never grow tired of my taste while bombarding me with a ton of praise. He tells me I taste like heaven, that he knew no one would ever taste as good as me, so he never gave them the chance to prove him wrong. He eats me like he’s starved, and I can’t get enough.

I rock against his mouth and murmur his praises like there aren’t hundreds of people just feet from our hookup location. Mikhail’s talents at giving head make my vision hazy and my stomach quiver in anticipation of what is still to come.

Within minutes, an intense orgasm builds low in my core. I’m so close to falling that my body stills in preparation for the battle it is about to endure.

My zombie-like state doubles Mikhail’s efforts. He licks me, fucks me with his fingers, and grazes my clit with his teeth, lips, and nose until I thrash against the sofa like I’m possessed.

When he sucks my clit into his mouth, an orgasm rips through my body so hard and fast stars form in front of my eyes.

I can’t stop screaming.

Can’t stop coming.

Can’t. Catch. My. Damn. Breath.

My climax is the longest I’ve ever had, and it sucks everything out of me.

Lust clouds my head so ruefully that it takes several lengthy blinks for my brain to register the enticing visual in front of me.

Mikhail’s trousers have slipped down his thick thighs, and he’s fisting his fat cock.

The veins of his impressive manhood are throbbing, and its cut head is glistening with pre-cum.

He’s the thickest I’ve seen him, and I stare unashamedly, hungry and wanton.

With his eyes locked on my spent face, Mikhail does a long, determined stroke.

My insides clench as a ferocious fire burns through me.

I’ve never seen such a stimulating visual.

The image of him stroking his cock while his other hand cleans up the mess I left on his face is panty-drenching.

It re-sparks the fireworks not close to diminishing and has me more than ready for round two.

“Please,” I beg, my voice returned as hunger rips through me.

Smiling, Mikhail lengthens his strokes until a blob of salty goodness pools at the tip of his swollen knob. After returning his hand to the base, he jerks up his chin, encouraging my approach.

I pounce like a tigress protecting her cub. In under a second, I replace his hand at the base of his impressive cock with mine and slide my tongue over the slit at the top, tasting him again.

When his delicious flavors swamp my taste buds, I moan.

He tastes so good.

I squash my ear to the leather when he inches closer, and then open my mouth, wordlessly inviting him in. The corners of my mouth burn when he stuffs a handful of inches in, his patience as frayed as mine.

As he rocks his fat cock in and out of my mouth, his pace exceedingly calm considering the fire burning through his eyes, I maintain eye contact. I watch every expression crossing his deliriously handsome face and relish how at peace he appears to be.

It hurt when he admitted he had fucked the blonde, but this is a level of intimacy I am confident she never experienced with him.

It is too intimate, too special.

It is the weaving of two souls into one.

Mikhail’s hips buck when my tongue flicks the piercings down his shaft. The coolness of the metal sends spasms down my spine and increases the strength of my sucks. I take him deep in my throat, spurring on more pre-cum to leak from the crown.

As I suck, lick, and graze the head with my teeth, Mikhail guides his dick in and out of my mouth. He pushes in far enough for my eyes to bulge, but not far enough for me to gag. He’s not a fan of vomit—even the suggestion of it.

A moan vibrates on his knob when he returns his hand to my clit. He toys with it until my thighs are as shaky as his, and the veins feeding his magnificent cock work overtime.

“Fuck…” he groans, his grip at the base of his cock now more about calming the beast than enraging it.

His nostrils flare as an animalistic groan rolls up his chest when I slide my tongue over the sensitive slit in his cock, lapping up the droplets of his arousal.

Then he increases the pressure on my clit.

He rubs and strokes it in rhythm to my sucks, and within seconds, a familiar tightening sensation hits the lower half of my stomach.

My cheeks hollow from the pressure I apply during my next handful of sucks. I suck him faster. Greedily. I push him to the brink as his fingers do me, and I can’t get enough. I lick, pump, and suck him while watching him unravel before my eyes.

I love the burn of taking him deep and savor every frantic grunt as he struggles to maintain control. They reveal he is no longer in charge of our exchange.

The power has once again been handed to me.

I won’t fuck it up this time. I refuse.

While swiveling my tongue around the base of his cock, almost gagging, I watch him over the rise and fall of his chest. He’s breathless and panting.

I love that I get to see him this way—raw and unguarded.

It makes our gathering much more intimate and reminds me that this type of tension can’t be replicated with a stranger.

It can’t be manufactured. It is an artform only a select few can master.

I moan at the taste of him when the trekking of my tongue along the veins coursing down the length of his thick cock produces more pre-cum. I lap it up eagerly.

“Yes, Emmy,” Mikhail moans, hissing. “Suck me hard and fast. Make me come.”

I milk him with my hand while sucking on the crown of his engorged knob. Over and over again, my tongue flutters across the slit, gathering the droplets of pre-cum pooled there. I work him so hard that my mouth aches, and it pays off in the most brilliant manner.

It isn’t as you suspect. Instead of flooding my tongue with his cum, Mikhail slams two fingers back inside me before swiveling my aching clit with his thumb. His cock muffles my screams when he hits the nervy bud with rapid-fire flicks at the same time his fingers massage the sweet spot inside me.

My tingling pussy clings to his fingers as his cock demands every inch of my mouth. I love the feel of him, the hotness and heaviness, and the sense of rightness that comes with every one of our exchanges.

“Please,” I beg through a mouthful of cock a few seconds later.

I’m dying to taste him again, for his cum to ignite my senses. The urge is as blinding as the frantic buildup of my next climax, which is seconds from erupting.

I whimper when Mikhail brings me to the edge with a perfect amount of pressure and dedication while saying, “I want you to come with me. I want your juices dripping off my hand as my seed slides down your throat.”

My screams are louder than the music pumping out of the speakers of his club when Mikhail switches from two fingers to three. The somewhat painful intrusion is the final push I need to reach climax. I come with a moan, my entire body shaking.

Mikhail is right there with me.