Page 9 of Vicious Betrayal

He groans, and he transfers both of my wrists to one hand before reaching down with the other. His fingers slide along the front of my panties, and he lets out a gasping breath.

"Fuck, I've been wondering what you had on under here." He slides two fingers back and forth over the silky fabric. "Goddamn it, girl, you've already soaked them." He lets out a hiss of breath, tucking his fingers underneath to touch my smooth pussy.

His hips jerk. "God, you're so fucking smooth. So… fuck, you're fucking drenched, baby." His fingertips graze my clit, and I moan, arching into his hand. I'm so wound up that I don't think it'll take much for me to come.

"What do you want?" he murmurs against my lips, still feathering his touch back and forth over my clit. I whimper, writhing for more.

"I want…" I gasp as he gives me a little more pressure, teasing my hood back with one finger as he strokes the swollen, exposed nerves. "I want to find out how many different ways you can make me come."

It's the most truthful answer I could have given him. I've never been fucked well before, and I think this man could do it. I think he could give me the best sex of my entire life. The challenge in my voice is entirely intentional, and from the rumbling laugh he lets out as he presses two fingers more firmly against my clit, he knows it.

"I can think of five different ways just off the top of my head," he murmurs. "So we're not stopping until I get five, baby. Can you do that for me?"

I can't breathe for a moment. His fingers already feel so good. "Five?" I squeak out. I've never come more than once with someone else. Twice by myself, if I get really worked up. But five.

"Five," he confirms, sliding his fingers a little faster. And then he pauses, his fingertips still resting against my swollen flesh. "You're not a virgin, are you?" He pulls back slightly. "Tell me the truth, Oksana. It doesn't mean we'll stop, but I need to know."

I shake my head. "Only… a couple times," I manage. "But not… it's not the first time."

He nods, and resumes gently rubbing my clit. "I'm still gonna warm you up. I've got a thick cock, and I want you to enjoy it when you take it. Because I'm going to give you every… single… inch." He speeds up with each of the last three words, and leans in, his mouth brushing against my jaw as he starts rubbing my clit in earnest.

Oh my God. It feels so good. I'm so wet, more than I ever thought I could be, and my legs are trembling. I realize he's going to make me come right here, up against the wall, and I cling to him, grabbing onto his shoulders as my head falls back. He's so hard I don't know how he can stand it, pressed up against my thigh, and I can feel the bulge and flex of his muscles as he works my clit while his mouth traces a path down my neck. He comes back up, nibbling my ear, his breath warm, his lips and tongue grazing all that sensitive flesh as noises I've never heard myself make spill from my lips. "Please," I gasp, rolling my hips. "Please, please…"

He lets out a pleased sound, a low groan as the heel of his hand presses against my abdomen and his fingers move faster. I'm so close, I⁠—

I cry out as the orgasm hits me, my knees buckling. He grabs me around the waist to keep me up, pinning my body to the wall as he keeps rubbing my clit all through my climax. My hips buck and my back arches—I've never felt anything like this, like I'm coming apart at the seams. It feels so fucking good, and I don't want it to stop.

"That's one," he growls into my ear, and then before I can even get a thought into my head, his hand moves and two fingers slide into my drenched pussy, his thumb now firmly on my swollen clit.

And then he picks me up with his hand buried inside of me. "Legs around my waist," he orders, just before he kisses me roughly and starts to walk us toward the stairs.

His fingers are still moving inside of me. I can't breathe. It should be too much, but it's not enough. My hips roll against his hand, and suddenly we're on the stairs, heading up. We get halfway, and as I clench around his curling fingers, he suddenly groans and lowers us both, spilling me back onto the stairs. He's kneeling just below me, his eyes intense on mine as his hand moves faster.

"You're gonna give me that second one now," he growls, his thumb rolling back and forth. I'm so sensitive that I almost want to beg him to stop, but I think I'd cry if he did. It feels so good, and his fingers feel so long and thick inside of me… what is his cock going to feel like?

"I…" I can't think of anything to say. He bends down, nipping at my throat, his movements harsher and more eager now. His fingers thrust hard inside of me.

"You're gonna take a third," he growls, pressing down with his thumb and making me moan. "If you can't take three, you can't take my dick."

A third finger presses into me, and I feel fuller now. He swears under his breath as he fingers me harder, curling them as he keeps up the pressure on my clit. "Fuck, you're tight," he breathes. "God, I can't wait to feel you squeeze my fucking cock. You're gonna look so pretty on it, baby. Now come for me again, and I'll take you to bed."

I don't know what I thought was going to happen. I think his hesitance at the club made me think I was going to be in control, but now that he's made the decision that we're going to fuck, he's running the show, and it's turning me on more than I could possibly have imagined. He's not dominant the way other guys have been, demanding pleasure from me without giving me much in return. He's dominating my pleasure entirely, wringing it from me, ordering my body to give him what we both want. God, I'm so fucking happy to do it.

I can feel my muscles tensing. I'm breathing hard, arching my back, and I feel a sudden rush of wetness between my thighs as the orgasm tenses my entire body again, my pussy spasming around his fingers. "Fuck," he groans, and I see him reach down with his other hand, squeezing himself as he keeps working me through my orgasm. "God, I can't wait for you to soak my fucking face like that."

Dimly, it occurs to me that he's still talking about more of my pleasure before his own, but I'm so dizzy from my orgasm that I can't fully articulate the thought. He waits until I'm coming down from the climax before he pulls his hand free, scooping me up into his arms as he carries me the last steps to his bedroom.

When he sets me down inside, it takes me a second to take it all in. There's a large window overlooking the small space behind the house, and a huge bed. The room is dark aside from the ambient light coming through the window, but it's enough for me to see the shape of him and the tight line of his jaw.

Shakily, I reach for the hem of my dress, and he grabs my wrist lightly.

"Let me," he murmurs, and I go still. He slides it up, over my hips and waist and breasts, the gold chains on the back tinkling slightly as he tosses it aside. I'm wearing nothing but the silky thong now, and he groans, his eyes roving over my body like he's starving. "Fuck, you're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen in my whole goddamn life."

His Irish accent is thicker now, and desire tightens my stomach, a thrilled rush running through my body. "You're not so bad yourself," I murmur, reaching for the buttons of his shirt, and he groans, pulling me to him with one hand as I work them open. His other hand finds my small breast, cupping it as he plays with the nipple.

"Fuck, these are perfect." He lowers his head, tongue dragging over my tightening nipple as I give up and, frustrated, yank open the buttons of his shirt. It briefly occurs to me that he might be upset, but he just laughs, a low rumble in his chest and against my skin as I shove his shirt off the rest of the way.

He stops me when I reach for his belt. "Not yet, lass," he murmurs, that Irish brogue thicker still.