(no subject)
She drove him here, carried half of his weight into this apartment, and attempted to coax him back to sleep on the couch. This much, she understood and remembered.
However, Melanie wasn’t quite sure how they ended up like… this. Again.
He was a breath away, maybe less. Lips wet, a deep pink, and plumper than she remembered them to be, where she kept her eyes to keep from drowning in his. His woody cologne, the lingering smell of cigarettes smoked, and the Vodka shots on his breath filled her nostrils. His heat crept through her dress and swam over her body like warm, knowing fingers. Mel could feel her heart beat in her throat, the dull ache of her hardened nipples, the familiar pulsing below her belly.
Silently, he closed the gap between them. Chest to chest, his palm pressing on the small of her back with fingers curved against her rump, his arousal digging into her hip. Mel inhaled quickly to keep from whimpering.
“I want you, Mel.”
He grinded against her slightly as if she didn’t believe him.
Blinking, trying to concentrate and regain some bit of control, Melanie attempted to put some space between them.
“You’re drunk, Maks.You’ve no idea what you’re saying or doing…”.
He shook his head, a playful grin on his handsome face.
“I know exactly what I’m saying.” he said, grabbing hold of her hands that had up until then, laid helplessly by her sides. “And I know just what to do to make you moan.”
Her lips parted in surprise at his words, the look in his eyes making the very deepest part of her twitch in anticipation of his promise. He was hot and sweet; solid erection threatening her sanity and soft lips nuzzling at sensitive spots she didn’t know were sensitive. Large, long fingers lacing themselves with her nervous, rigid ones as he leaned further down to work some more of his mischief. In doing so, his neck was exposed to her and Mel battled the urge to lick, suck, and bite it. To make him feel some of the torture she was enduring. Blinding lust and complete contempt. Bitterness for the dampness on her panties, and every little spark ignited on her body whenever his mouth claimed some new territory. Because however wrong and immoral it was, she wanted this. And she hated herself for it.
“Maks, please.” She found her voice just as his mouth had captured her ear again. Her earring clanking against his teeth while he nibbled.
He pressed into her body even more, her back now against the wall. The plea for him to stop was misunderstood.
“Ti takAya krasIvaya…” he said against her temple. “Ti takAya izumItel'naya…”
Mel couldn’t help but melt into his arms a little, close her eyes for a moment and try to remember the last time he had spoken in Russian. She was sure it wasn’t as warm and lovely as the words he had uttered just now. Whatever the words may be.
“This isn’t right.”
Maksim groaned in protest, not liking what he was hearing. “But how does it feel?”
Mel narrowed her eyes in sudden irritation, but not turning to meet his eyes for fear of being had on the lips. Even in heat, he was a smartass. She was trying her very best to stop. To be rational and responsible, remembering her husband and the girls. His advances and her welcoming body were not helping in the least. Her mind needed to keep focus. Her only ally, but for how long?
However, Melanie wasn’t quite sure how they ended up like… this. Again.
He was a breath away, maybe less. Lips wet, a deep pink, and plumper than she remembered them to be, where she kept her eyes to keep from drowning in his. His woody cologne, the lingering smell of cigarettes smoked, and the Vodka shots on his breath filled her nostrils. His heat crept through her dress and swam over her body like warm, knowing fingers. Mel could feel her heart beat in her throat, the dull ache of her hardened nipples, the familiar pulsing below her belly.
Silently, he closed the gap between them. Chest to chest, his palm pressing on the small of her back with fingers curved against her rump, his arousal digging into her hip. Mel inhaled quickly to keep from whimpering.
“I want you, Mel.”
He grinded against her slightly as if she didn’t believe him.
Blinking, trying to concentrate and regain some bit of control, Melanie attempted to put some space between them.
“You’re drunk, Maks.You’ve no idea what you’re saying or doing…”.
He shook his head, a playful grin on his handsome face.
“I know exactly what I’m saying.” he said, grabbing hold of her hands that had up until then, laid helplessly by her sides. “And I know just what to do to make you moan.”
Her lips parted in surprise at his words, the look in his eyes making the very deepest part of her twitch in anticipation of his promise. He was hot and sweet; solid erection threatening her sanity and soft lips nuzzling at sensitive spots she didn’t know were sensitive. Large, long fingers lacing themselves with her nervous, rigid ones as he leaned further down to work some more of his mischief. In doing so, his neck was exposed to her and Mel battled the urge to lick, suck, and bite it. To make him feel some of the torture she was enduring. Blinding lust and complete contempt. Bitterness for the dampness on her panties, and every little spark ignited on her body whenever his mouth claimed some new territory. Because however wrong and immoral it was, she wanted this. And she hated herself for it.
“Maks, please.” She found her voice just as his mouth had captured her ear again. Her earring clanking against his teeth while he nibbled.
He pressed into her body even more, her back now against the wall. The plea for him to stop was misunderstood.
“Ti takAya krasIvaya…” he said against her temple. “Ti takAya izumItel'naya…”
Mel couldn’t help but melt into his arms a little, close her eyes for a moment and try to remember the last time he had spoken in Russian. She was sure it wasn’t as warm and lovely as the words he had uttered just now. Whatever the words may be.
“This isn’t right.”
Maksim groaned in protest, not liking what he was hearing. “But how does it feel?”
Mel narrowed her eyes in sudden irritation, but not turning to meet his eyes for fear of being had on the lips. Even in heat, he was a smartass. She was trying her very best to stop. To be rational and responsible, remembering her husband and the girls. His advances and her welcoming body were not helping in the least. Her mind needed to keep focus. Her only ally, but for how long?