His hands slam against the shower wall.
A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Fuck, moon.”
Encouraged, I circle my tongue around his tip, then along his base teasing the metal, before I wrap my lips around him and suck.
His whole-body tenses. A sharp inhale.
I take him deeper, sliding my tongue along the ridges of his piercings, reveling in the way he shudders.
Slowly, I work more of him into my mouth. Breathe through my nose. Relax my throat.
He’s so big.
I barely take half before he nudges the back of my throat. My fingers squeeze the thick base still in my grip, my mouth hollowing as I suck harder.
“Fuck.” His head drops forward. “That’s a good girl.”
The gravel in his voice makes my pussy throb.
I whimper around him, desperate, my free hand sliding between my thighs.
I rub slow, tight circles over my clit, moaning as I match the rhythm of my mouth—sucking, licking, stroking faster.
One of his hands tangles in my wet hair, not forcing, just holding. As he watches me.
My core tightens.
Pleasure builds, coiling low in my stomach. I take him deeper, swallowing around him.
“I’m going to come down that pretty throat,” he rasps. “And you’re going to swallow every drop.”
I moan my agreement.
His cock pulses—thick, hot, throbbing—then he spills with a deep, guttural growl.
I cry out as my own orgasm crashes over me, my body trembling, my thighs squeezing around my hand as I swallow him down.
Every last drop.
“You, lyubimaya, are a godsend, and I’m not even a believer.”
I giggle as Kaz pulls me to my feet, his strong hands steadying me. His lips brush against my forehead before he captures my mouth in a kiss—hot and possessive. I whimper as his tongue claims mine, my fingers gripping the hard muscles of his biceps.
Too soon, he pulls away, but my lips chase his, desperate for more. He chuckles darkly, shutting off the shower before stepping back.
I grab some towels and turn to find him watching me, his gaze locked on my body, lingering on the curve of my hips and the swell of my ass.
“You like what you see, big guy?” I tease, winking as I shimmy my hips.
Kaz grunts, shaking his head with a smirk. “Too much.”
Just as he steps toward me, his expression turns serious. “We need to restitch your wound.”
Right. The bullet wound.
I sigh, walking over to the counter and awkwardly hopping onto it, my body still sore. “There’s a first aid kit in the drawer,” I point out.
Kaz grabs it, stepping between my legs, his fingers grazing my thighs as he rests his hands there. His eyes soften—just a little—before he reaches for a disinfectant wipe. “Do you—”
