Page 34 of Ruinous Need

LISETTE

I’M BORED. SITTING here in the dark, leaning against Viktor while we hide.We’re tucked inside a thick sleeping bag, but it’s barely warm enough in the freezing night.

We made it halfway to the cabin along the trail before the snow got too heavy. We ducked into a woodshed to shelter, a ramshackle little structure tucked under a tree. It’s mostly keeping the blizzard away from us, but every so often agust sends a painfully cold sprinkle of ice down.

At least I have Viktor for warmth. The man runs hot, and I don’t mind being tucked up on his lap. Especially not when I crave reassurance like right now.

The problem is, he’s on high alert. We heard some guards about an hour ago, talking. They seemed close by and spoke in Russian.

It’s been hours and we can still hear footsteps stomping by every so often. I’m not even allowed to get up and stretch my legs, though I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t see me through the blizzard.

I trace my fingers over Viktor’s skin as entertainment, trying to visualize the intricate lines of his tattoos. The ravens over his shoulder are my favorite. There are so many. One day I’ll ask him to explain them to me. If we survive this.

His breathing quickens with pleasure as I reach his torso. I trace my hand as low as I can without undoing his belt-buckle. I feel him stiffen at my touch, his hard-on pushing into my back.

He leans forward, his stubble brushing the tip of my ear. “Not the right time.” He kisses my neck, which only turns me on more, and pulls my hands away.

Unfair.

I pout at him and slide myself down into his lap. He’s still hard as a rock.

I try my best to sleep. I settle against his thigh and try not to think about his hard-on. Or how it feels to take him deep inside me. Or the way he grips my ass so hard that it leaves bruises when he finishes.

Viktor clamps a hand over my wrist to stop me when I slide a hand under the waistband of my own pants. He shakes his head.

“I’m supposed to believe that my little screamer can be quiet?”

His whisper rasps over my forehead so quietly that I can only just make it out.

“Not a chance. Open up.”

He drops his hand to my jaw, and I part my lips so he can shove two fingers in my mouth.

I swirl my tongue around them, and he breathes harder, shifting behind me to unbuckle his pants.

This is still unfair. I may be loud, but Viktor normally bites my shoulder with a loud groan when he finishes.

I make it my mission to draw at least a moan out of him.

He pushes his cock between my lips, and the worries and fears about being found fade right out of my head.

Viktor feels right. His cock is solid and heavy and reassuring. I lick his length up and down, wetting him with my saliva and tracing the underside of his cock with my tongue.

I keep my eyes trained on his face, although it’s barely visible in the patchy light of the woodshed. All I can make out is the gleam of his eyes and his mouth parting as I bob my head and take him deeper.

With no words or sounds between us, we communicate with our bodies.

I devour his cockhead until the salty taste of his precum blooms on my tongue. His cock is hard and wet with my saliva.

He fists his hand in my hair and drags me further onto his cock. I almost splutter, but I control myself, concentrating on breathing through my nose.

He swipes his hand gently over my cheek, and I know he’s praising me.

As he hits the back of my throat, I constrict around him, and he pulls out to let me breathe. His hand is soft on my cheek again, even as he tugs me back onto his cock with my hair.

“Good thing we’ve been training that tight throat,” he whispers. “Otherwise you’d be gagging loud enough to get us killed.”

He lodges his cock deep in my mouth, making me take every inch, until his hands stiffen on my head.

The moan is barely detectable, but I hear it. I feel it, in the tensing of his muscles and the low movement of air over the top of my head.

His breath hitches, his dark eyes grow darker, and he lets out a sound so faint it could almost be a sigh. Then he spills deep in my throat, and I swallow it down. He kisses the watery tears away from my eyes, pulling me against his chest and holding me tight.

I did it. I made him break his own rule.

The problem is, tasting Viktor’s cum and having his thick shaft in my throat has done nothing for the need between my thighs.

I’m so aroused that I want to yell. If Viktor doesn’t take me right now, I might cry with frustration. Silently, insistently, I stroke his cock again. He hardens quickly, still slick with my saliva and turned on by my desperate need for him, even as he shakes his head.

“Please,” I beg him, trying only to mouth the words. But my voice almost rises to an audible whine.

Viktor claps a hand over my mouth and holds it there. He leans forward and speaks right next to my ear.

“Only a silly little brat could get herself so turned on in a life-or-death situation that I have to fuck her.”

Viktor traces his hand over my thigh. I shiver as the rough calluses inch up my leg.

He holds my mouth shut. I can’t make a sound. I just look at him with wide eyes.

“You did this, Lisette. I will not let you get us killed with a scream because your needy pussy couldn’t wait until we were safe.”

He yanks my panties all the way down and pulls me above his cock.

“Feel how hard you made me?”

He murmurs against my skin so quietly that I don’t know how I hear him, but I do. “So hard that I know this is a dumb fucking idea and I’m going to do it, anyway.”

For one brief second, he releases his hands from my mouth.

“Open up.”

He nods in approval when I obey and shoves my balled-up panties onto the back of my tongue.

I twist my neck to look back at him and he pats my stuffed cheek before pressing his palm to my mouth again.

“We both know you’ll need it, babygirl.”

Clearly, he doesn’t trust even the ball of damp fabric to muffle my screams. He covers my mouth with both hands and hooks his thumbs under my jaw.

Using his grip on my mouth, he drags my dripping cunt over his erection. He’s so hard that he’s throbbing against me.

I want to squeal with pleasure.

Instead, I reach back and dig my fingernails into his hips. I feel his muscles flex as he thrusts up.

When he enters me, he has to muffle his own cry against my shoulder.

I moan, forgetting my whereabouts, but no sound comes out. I hear the shuddering intake of breath through his nose as he tries to control his own arousal.

Viktor stops moving. Waiting to get things under control. Slowly, I rotate my hips above him, and he slips deeper inside.

He takes my throat in his hands and squeezes.

“I could always keep you quiet this way,” he tells me, his breath hot on my back.

That sends a rush through my body from head to toe, even the muscles inside me.

“Fuck, Lisette. The way your pussy pulses around me when I do that…”

He bounces me on his cock, trying to move us as one as much as possible to minimize the noise.

In the silence the sound of our fucking is so loud. I finally understand why this was a bad idea. Because Viktor is just getting started.

“That juicy fucking pussy might get us killed, little screamer. And right now, I’d die a happy man.”

I’m somehow delirious with need and satisfaction at the same time as he fills me with his cock again and again.

Just a touch on my clit and he’d send me over the edge. He knows it too, teasing my nipples, kissing my neck, and paying no attention to my neglected pussy.

Finally, I feel him tense and lean forward. His hand finds my swollen bud and I explode, shaking against him, barely able to hold myself up, my mouth forming a silent scream around the wad of my panties. His teeth graze against my neck and he suppresses his grunt by sucking and biting at my neck.

I collapse back against him, panting, and he pulls my panties from my mouth. His fingers are soft on my face, trailing over my cheekbone and down between my lips.

I clean my juices from Viktor’s fingers and my eyes flutter shut. I’m so spent and exhausted that I barely remember how much danger we’re in.

But Viktor’s a professional. He doesn’t forget.

He tenses before I’ve even clocked the new noises in the distance.

Deep voices. Russian.

He gently moves me off his lap and gets out of the sleeping bag. I’m still breathing hard. He props me up in the corner and kisses me frantically, all over my face. My eyelids, my lips, my temples, the tip of my nose, as though he’s trying to memorize every line.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promises, but I feel adrift the second he walks out into the blizzard. With no warm Viktor to cuddle, the shed is painfully cold.