Page 28 of Broken Vows

I hear Mikhail’s back molars smash together when I draw him into my mouth with needy sucks, but other than that, he gives nothing away.

He’s cool, calm, and collected… until I peer up at him.

The instant our eyes lock, his thigh muscles twitch, and more of his delicious pre-cum swamps my taste buds.

While maintaining eye contact, I pump him harder, suck him faster, and double-fist his cock. I work him so hard and fast that you’d swear he paid for the privilege.

In a way, I guess that’s true.

I wouldn’t be here if he weren’t seeking a big payday and my mother wasn’t sick.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, I take him to the back of my throat before flattening my tongue, accepting him in further. We fooled around like this thousands of times before I knew of Mikhail’s family’s political influences, so perhaps this isn’t solely about one thing. Maybe other factors have contributed to our reunion.

Mikhail’s grip on my hair tightens so much that it is painful. I love the sting of his touch. It drives me wild with desire and has me giving him the performance of my life.

The more I work him, the harder he struggles to hold back his needy, desperate gasps.

In minutes, his breathing deepens to an unmissable level, and he grips my hair with deadly force.

As he returns my lusty watch, he feeds his cock in and out of my mouth, grunting and moaning with every frantic thrust.

My jaw aches, but I refuse to give in. I go wild with desire, and my confidence flourishes with every desperate moan Mikhail can’t hold back.

He’s burning up everywhere, and I’m right there with him.

My clit throbs as salty droplet after salty droplet pumps onto my tongue.

I milk him with my mouth, hand, and tongue until I’m finally granted the ultimate prize for my dedication.

A moan unlike any I’ve heard erupts from my throat when Mikhail’s hips still a second before streams of cum pump from his cock. They flood my tongue with his delicious taste and send my head into a tailspin.

As he stuffs his still-throbbing cock deep into my mouth, ensuring I don’t miss a single drop of his release, anticipation builds in my chest.

I hold so much power right now. Although I’m on my knees, sucking his cock, I’ve taken control. The odds are now in my favor. That’s how it has always been with Mikhail and me.

Excitement has already drenched my panties, but another truth wets them further.

Mikhail is at my complete mercy, which can only mean one thing.

I am mere hours from saving my family’s bar.

Well, I was.

I stupidly forget to alter my expression before realigning my eyes with Mikhail’s. He always could read me like a book. A decade-long hiatus appears to have not weakened his skills in the slightest.

“No,” I plead when he pulls back, freeing his somehow still-firm cock from my mouth with a pop.

The manic throbs of his girthy dick when he tucks it into his black boxer shorts set my blood on fire, but no number of silent pleas work.

The game is over, forfeited by the person who would have won by a mile if he didn’t have morals.

After a grumble about needing to inform Chef of his allergies, Mikhail heads for a secondary exit that I had no clue existed until now.

I assume he will leave without a backward glance, so you can picture my shock when he cranks his neck back just before he exits.

He takes in my kneeling stance and drenched panties my open trench coat can’t hide before he lifts his eyes to my face.

The pain in his hooded gaze exposes how badly he’s hurting, and I fucking hate myself for it.