Chapter 17 Chapter 17 The Boxer
My coat hits the floor the second we close my front door. Sergey flips the lights on, his jacket slipping down right after. He starts unbuttoning his shirt slowly, like he knows I am watching—and I am. I kick off my shoes and lean back, taking him in.
For fighting in the heavyweight class, his muscles are defined in a way that doesn’t make sense for a man his size. His shirt drops to the floor. Then his pants. I take my time, slowly unzipping my dress and letting it slide down my body.
“I have rules!”
He smirks. “Let’s hear it!”
“Don’t call me filthy names, and stay away from my asshole!”
He laughs low. “Whatever you say, kitten!”
Sergey looks me over as I stand naked in front of him, his eyes dragging over every inch. He mutters something in Russian under his breath.
I push him back toward the couch. He goes easily, smiling, sitting like he’s about to enjoy a show. He strokes himself slowly, and I just stand there watching.
His cock is perfect.
I lick my lips and climb onto him, straddling his lap. Sergey’s hands go straight to my ass, gripping hard. I sink down onto him, and he slides inside me with ease. He fits just right.
We both moan.
Heat spreads across my skin wherever he touches me. I am already soaked, bouncing on him, grinding between strokes. He keeps talking—I only catch pieces—but his tone alone is enough.
He leans back, pulling me with him, bending me over his arm as he pounds into me from below. His hand moves between my tits, rough and sure.
Somehow we end up on the floor.
He’s on top now, one of my legs thrown over his shoulder, driving into me hard. Pressure builds fast, tight and overwhelming.
I am going to explode.
He flips us again. I am on top, barely steady. His hands force my hips down, grinding me exactly right.
My orgasm hits hard—my body locking, my head falling back.
We are both covered in sweat. My skin tingles, my legs useless.
Sergey isn’t finished.
He lifts me off the carpet, holding my ass in both hands, my legs wrapped tight around his waist.
“Which one is your bedroom?”
“Second door!” I manage.
He pushes it open and tosses me onto the bed. He’s over me instantly, spreading my legs with his knee.
His mouth is on me.
His tongue slides through my folds, slow, then deep. I gasp and buck, grabbing his hair, grinding against his face.
He groans into me, the vibration sending heat through my body.
His fingers slide inside me, curling, pressing where it makes me shake. I am right there again, trembling.
He licks me clean.
“Your pussy is so sweet,” he murmurs, moving up my stomach, licking, biting.
By the time he reaches my neck, I am already gone again.
He sucks hard, leaving marks. “I love you,” he whispers.
I close my eyes.
Damn Gemma.
He is inside me again, thrusting hard. Our skin slaps together. His hand slides under my ass, lifting me.
I can feel him losing control.
I watch him—his eyes rolling, lips parted.
“Fuck me! You are going to be the death of me. I’ve fallen so far. This is going to hurt.”
He leans down, kissing me, his forehead resting against mine. I understand.
And I don’t care.
I want this anyway.
He pulls out, flips me over, my ass in the air, and drives back inside. His hand trails down my spine, then grabs my hair, pulling me back.
He pounds into me without mercy. My vision blurs, black spots creeping in.
He kisses my shoulder. “I love you,” he says again.
Then he fills me as I come with him.
For a moment, everything slows.
Then he turns me onto my side, spreading my legs again, sliding between them. He fills me completely, deeper than before.
He moves slower now, dragging it out.
I moan. “Fuck me hard.”
He slams into me, fast and brutal, knocking the air from my lungs. Holding my thigh, he drives into me again and again.
My skin burns. My body throbs. I am right there again.
He pulls out suddenly and slaps my pussy.
The sting sends me over instantly. As my orgasm crashes through me, he thrusts back inside.
I am shaking, still coming.
I look back at him. “Put your dick in my mouth.”
He grins and pulls out.
I lie back as he moves over me. I take him in my hand, stroking, then lift my head and take him deep until I choke.
He groans, moving slow, then steady, fucking my mouth in a rolling rhythm. One hand grips the headboard, the other holds my face.
“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he mutters.
Then he comes.
I swallow before he can pull away, giving him one last slow suck.
I drop back, breathing hard, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
He watches me, then runs his hand over my chest.
“You are perfect,” he says, leaning down to kiss me.
I laugh softly. “I am really hungry. I am going to order pizza.”
I slide out of bed and head to the living room, grabbing my phone and ordering two large pizzas, from my work place.
I walk around naked, picking up our clothes—my coat into the closet, my dress into my room. Sergey sits up in bed, watching me like he doesn’t want to blink.
The doorbell rings.
I throw on my robe and open the door. Nico stands there, grinning.
“Are you alone?”
“I saw you on TV—they showed you at the fight next to Aleksandr Fedorov. You looked hot!”
“Go back to work, Nico.”
“Are you with one of them? Or both?” he grins wider.
“Are you nuts? They date models! Go back to work—and don’t say anything to the guys. Do you hear me?” I raise my fist slightly. “Or else.”
“Okay, Elle! Thanks for the tip!”
I shut the door—and jump as Sergey wraps his arms around me from behind.
I almost drop the pizza.