Page 60 of Shadow Waltz
He stood there, gloriously naked—broad chest dusted with hair, scars winding over hard muscle, cock jutting up from a nest of dark curls. Water from the shower misted his skin, turning every sharp line into something sculpted and wild.
He stroked himself slowly, letting me look. “You want to worship, little one? Show me.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. I crawled forward on my knees, feeling the sting of the tile, head bowed in a performance for the camera and the man above me. I pressed my cheek to his thigh, inhaling the scent of soap and sex, tongue flicking out to taste the salt on his skin. I traced the line of his hip with my lips,working my way to his cock—hard and leaking, so close it made my mouth water.
Dmitri caught my hair in one fist, tilting my face up. “Open,” he ordered, accent thicker now, dominance threaded through every word. “Let me see how much you want it.”
I looked up at him, then deliberately glanced at the camera set into the tile—a flicker of eye contact, a smirk, a message: watch this. I parted my lips, tongue out, and let him slap his cock against my mouth, the head smearing precome across my skin.
He hissed in approval. “Look at you. Good boy. Such a perfect mouth.”
I wrapped my lips around the head, sucking him in, feeling the weight of his cock stretch my jaw. I bobbed down, letting spit drip and coat him, moaning as he slid deeper. I worshipped him, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowed, spit running down my chin. Every sound, every messy detail, was deliberate—Ash the survivor, Ash the actor, Ash the exhibitionist, giving Luka the filthiest show he could imagine.
Dmitri groaned, tightening his grip in my hair, using it to control my pace. He rocked his hips, feeding me inch after inch, his cock heavy on my tongue, making me gag and whimper and moan for more. He pulled back, slapping my cheek with his cock again, marking me.
“Say you want it,” he commanded, voice low and brutal. “Say you want to taste every inch. Let Luka hear.”
I gasped, lips slick and shining, voice rough with need and pride. “I want it, sir. Want to taste all of you. Want to show Luka how much I love your cock.”
He grinned, pleased and predatory. “Good boy. Hands behind your back. You don’t touch unless I say.”
I obeyed, locking my hands behind me, kneeling up tall, presenting. Dmitri stroked his cock, painting my lips with precome before shoving back between them, fucking my faceslow and deep, making sure every thrust was visible for the camera. His balls slapped my chin, heavy and hot, his cock pushing into my throat until my eyes watered.
He pulled out, spit and precome trailing from my lips to his cock. Dmitri looked down at me, chest heaving, eyes glittering with heat and hunger. “Look at you, little one,” he growled, cupping my chin, smearing spit across my jaw with his thumb. “You want to worship me, da? You want to show me how much you love every inch?”
I nodded, lips swollen, throat raw from taking him deep. My gaze flicked to the camera—my silent audience—then back to him, letting my need show.
Dmitri stepped back, spreading his stance wide, cock jutting up proud and wet, precome dribbling down the shaft. He raised his arms above his head, lacing his fingers behind his neck, showing off every flexed muscle, his pits dark and musky, chest and abs shining under the shower’s spray. “Start at my feet, little slut,” he ordered, his accent thick. “Work your way up. Taste all of me. Lick me like I am your last meal.”
I shivered, hunger and heat and shame mixing in my veins. I started at his feet, tongue dragging over the tops, savoring the roughness of his skin, the clean taste of sweat and water. I kissed up his calves, biting the muscle gently, then licked along the backs of his knees, tongue probing, tasting the salt where he was most sensitive.
Dmitri let out a low, approving sound, flexing for me, hips rolling just enough to make his cock bounce. “Good boy. Don’t rush. I want to see you savor every inch. You want to make me feel good? You better not miss a spot.”
I moved higher, licking up his thighs, nipping at the scars and marks, kissing my way up to the place where thigh met groin. I mouthed at his balls, sucking one into my mouth, rolling my tongue around the heavy sack, breathing in the deep, headymusk. I looked up at him as I did it, letting him see the worship in my eyes, making sure the camera caught every filthy second.
“That’s it,” Dmitri crooned, threading his fingers through my hair, holding me close. “Suck my balls. Get them nice and wet. Make a mess, little whore.”
I licked and sucked, letting spit trail down my chin, making obscene noises as I worked my tongue from his balls up to his shaft, then up his abs—tongue tracing every groove, licking the ridges, biting gently at his skin. I kissed up to his chest, nipping at his pecs, sucking his nipples, flicking my tongue over each one until he groaned and flexed.
His hands never left me, guiding me up higher. “My pits, Ash. You want to show how filthy you are? Lick my pits.”
My cheeks burned with humiliation and hunger as I buried my face in the dark, sweaty hair of his armpit, inhaling deep, tongue out, licking up the taste of him. He smelled raw and male, musky and strong, and it made my cock throb harder. I licked up and down, moaning for him, rubbing my face in the heat and salt.
Dmitri let out a filthy laugh, flexing his arm, pushing my face in deeper. “Fuck, that’s good. You love this, don’t you? Getting dirty for me, for him, for all of us. My nasty little slut. Look at the camera, show him your tongue.”
I turned, tongue out, licking my lips, spit and sweat smeared across my face. I moved to his other pit, worshipping him with the same hungry thoroughness, letting my tongue and mouth map every inch, leaving him shining with spit and lust.
“Everywhere, Ash,” Dmitri urged, bringing my mouth to his neck, biting my own marks into his skin. “Lick my throat, taste my sweat. I want Luka to see you addicted to me.”
My hands finally slid up his sides, nails scratching, massaging every muscle I could reach.
“Good boy. You want to earn this cock? You want to show us how bad you need it?” His words were low, rough, and confident, a king commanding worship. “Then you better beg, Ash. Beg for me to ruin you. Beg for me to let Luka see how much you love being my toy.”
I moaned, breathless and desperate, voice thick with need and pride. “Please, Dmitri. Please let me have you. I need your cock. I need you to use me. Want everyone to see how filthy I am for you.”
He smirked, wicked and proud, hands sliding into my hair, pulling me up to stand up straight, chest to chest, his mouth at my ear. “You’re perfect, Ash. So hungry, so good. You’re ours now. And tonight, I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”
He spun me, pressing me to the glass, grinding his cock between my cheeks, whispering filth in Russian and English as he prepared to take me apart.