Page 121 of One Last Shot
“I do,” I assure him. “But right now, this istheirthing.”
He kisses my belly button, then looks up at me from his knees. “You. Are. Beautiful.” The words are reverent. His lips meet my belly again, and this time they are hungry. He trails his tongue down to the triangle of fabric that makes up the front of my bikini bottoms as he slides his hands over to my hips. With one tug on either side, he has them untied and falling to the floor.
“God, I’ve missed this,” he says as he leans forward.
“It’s only been since lunch—” I’m about to remind him of our quickie in the pool house bathroom a few hours ago, but my words die in my mouth as his tongue flicks out and the warm smoothness of it slides across that sensitive ball of nerves at the junction between my legs. I can’t help the moan that escapes my throat and shoots right past my lips. Pregnancy has given me an insatiable appetite for sex—there’s no limit to the number of times I want him to make me come every day. I’m told this is normal, and luckily he’s happy to serve my every need while I grow this child of ours inside me.
His fingertips run up my calf to the sensitive flesh behind my knee and his touch is a current that sends shockwaves throughout my body. He lifts my knee and places it over his shoulder, then rains kisses up my inner thigh until his mouth is back between my legs. He’s so close, but he doesn’t touch me like I want him to. Instead, the heat of his soft breath washes over me. My entire core clenches with desire, white-hot need running through me.
“Take your bathing suit top off,” he says as he gazes up at me. “I want to see you.”
I reach up with both hands, untying the bow behind my neck and then behind my back, before pulling the suit away from me and dropping it on the floor.
“Holy shit,” he says, his eyes focused on the undersides of my breasts. “Have they gotten bigger in the last few hours?”
I cup one breast in each palm, testing the weight of them as they spill over my hands. Then I run my thumbs up and over each nipple just to tease him. His breath is a hiss as it escapes his lips. “They may have,” I tell him. It does feel like it’s possible, given the rate at which they’re enlarging now that I’m pregnant. I run my thumbs over my nipples again and my thighs clench in response. I bring my hands down to his head, run my fingers through his hair, letting my nails drag against his scalp in the way I know he finds erotic. “Sasha, please. Please touch me.”
“Shit, I love it when you beg,” he says, then buries his mouth into my folds, licking the length of my opening and then circling my clit several times. His thumbs spread me open over his mouth and his tongue laps me up like I’m an ice cream cone and he doesn’t want to lose a single drip. I groan because I’m so close already, and he takes that as his signal to intensify his assault. Suddenly, his tongue is gliding over me with a fast but controlled energy.
“I’m so close,” I whisper, reaching out and gripping the side of the armoire to hold myself up. I glance down and see the huge length of him jutting out against his swim shorts, and I’m filled with an aching need to be joined with him. “I need you inside me.”
His eyes flick up to mine and I can read his meaning clearly—soon enough. This is just the warm-up act, and he wants to leave me wanting more.
There’s a gaping emptiness where he’s not filling me, and it edges out the pleasure of his tongue. But then he clamps his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucks hard, pulling me into his mouth and running his tongue over me. The pleasure is so intense I start to come undone and I drag my fingernails along his scalp and he repeats the motion over and over until the white-hot sensation is flooding my core and sending waves of pleasure through the rest of my body, making every single cell stand at attention. I come down from my orgasm, immediately wanting him again.
“Now, Aleksandr,” I insist, as I pull him to his feet and immediately untie his swim trunks. He pushes them down to the floor and I take a moment to marvel at the monstrosity that is his erection—thick and hard, so smooth and long and perfectly made for my body.
He reaches to my shoulders and pushes my open kimono down my arms, then sweeps me into his arms and walks toward the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” I ask. What the hell? We were standing two feet away from the bed.
“We’re supposed to be showering and getting ready for dinner. We’re going to have to make this a two-for-one.”
I understand his meaning perfectly. “We haven’t had shower sex in a while,” I note.
“Exactly.” When we get to the shower, he opens the glass door and turns the water on, and while we wait for it to warm up, I press myself up against the back of him. I reach my arm around and grip him tightly at his base, then slide my hand up and down his shaft. “Petra,” he groans as he grows even harder in my hand.
I turn him around and drop to my knees to take him in my mouth, letting him slide through my tight lips and cupping him between my tongue and the roof of my mouth as I suck the length of him into me repeatedly. Then I let him slide out, and slowly stand so that his cock runs along the length of my throat, through my cleavage, and along my stomach as I rise.
I step away from him, into the shower, and can feel him on my heels as the water sprays over me. Before I have time to turn around, he takes my hands and places them against the wall in front of me. He runs his hands from mine, slowly down my arms until he cups my breasts in his hands, which has me pushing my ass back into his erection. I’m so ready for him to be inside me. He pinches my nipples between his fingers gently, and my hips move back against him in a rhythmic motion.
With one foot he spreads my feet, then his hands trail down my sides and are on my ass, pulling me open and pushing me forward. He brings his cock up and slides it along my seam until he is slick with my juices. One of his hands comes above my head and plants itself next to my hand, then he’s pushing into me achingly slow until he fills every last bit of space inside me, stretching me until I feel impossibly full. He wraps his free arm around my lower belly to keep my hips at the exact angle he wants, then he pulls out a bit and slides back into me over and over again. His movements are small and precise, because he knows the exact spot deep inside of me that he needs to hit to get me to orgasm. I can feel the pressure building and hiss out a “yessss,” but instead of continuing, he pulls out slowly. I’m pretty sure I whimper, but I don’t even care—he’s prolonging this when he knows how much I need this release.
He spins me around and his mouth crashes into mine as he backs me up until my spine rests against the tile. The water cascades over our bodies, but I don’t even need its heat. I’m burning up with my need for him. He pulls one of my legs up to wrap around his lower back, then he’s sliding himself along my wet seam again. He bends his knees slightly and then enters me so quickly my back arches in response, pressing my breasts up against him. With one hand under my knee and the other cupping one of my breasts, he picks up the pace sliding into me and out again so quick and deep it almost takes my breath away. When his mouth latches onto my nipple, I’m pretty sure I stop breathing entirely. The pressure’s building in my core and every time he rolls his tongue over my hardened nipple or sucks me further into his mouth, I climb closer to the peak of that orgasm I’m chasing. He brings his mouth to meet my lips, then his hand moves between us and his thumb finds the ball of nerves above our joined bodies and with that additional pressure, the sensation builds until I feel like I might actually explode. I groan into his mouth as the orgasm rips through me and as I convulse around him, I can feel him spasming inside me too as he finds his release.
“Holy shit,” he whispers into my hair, his body still connected to mine. “How does it just keep getting better?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him, “but I’m sure glad it does.”
He pulls out of me, then turns me toward the shower head as he reaches for the body wash. “Here, let me clean you up.”
* * *
“I don’t understand how you just slept for an hour and you’re still tired,” Sierra says. “Only I’m allowed to be that tired right now.” She rubs her hand over her belly.
I can hardly keep my eyes open in the back of the car as it bumps along the road outside the city we’re headed to for dinner. “I think the sun just took it out of me today. After my shower, I felt like I had no energy left.” Sasha glances at me in the rearview mirror and I can see the laughter he’s holding in dancing in the gleam of his eyes. He knows why I’m tired, and how he wore me out. Twice. “I don’t even remember lying down, and next thing I know, Aleksandr is waking me up and telling me I have fifteen minutes until we leave.”
In the front seat, Beau glances over at Sasha and I can tell he wants to say something but is holding it in. I’m half afraid he knows. There’s a lot more going on behind the party-boy image he’s shown the world for so long. I’m glad he’s found Sierra and that they’ve settled down in Blackstone with Jackson and Nate. Both my friends are getting the happily ever after they wanted, and the fact that they get it together is amazing.
