Page 63 of Frozen Heart
Jen had helped me choose the bridal lingerie. It was cream, to match the dress, and finished with gleaming gold thread: we’d agreed it wasprincess on her wedding night.The bra gave me a pretty amazing cleavage, the panties were cut high at the sides and back to make the most of my ass and the stockings made my legs look endless, especially because I was still wearing my heels. But thepiece de resistancewas the matching corset which was beautifully embroidered with swirls of gold. It had straps that went down to my stockings and the boning gave me a silhouette that was kind ofwow.
Radimir’s eyes flared with lust. He took my hands in his and spread my arms wide while he gazed at me. Then he whirled me around and pulled me back to him, so that my arms were imprisoned, crossed in an X across my chest, and my ass was grinding against his cock. “Had I known what you were wearing underneath, the wedding would have been alotshorter.” He kissed the sensitive spot on the side of my neck, and I squirmed in delight.
Radimir reached between us and unhooked the clasp of my bra. Then he spun me again, pulling the bra down and off my arms, and pushed me up against the wall, capturing my wrists and holding them above my head. It happened so fast I gasped, my boobs bobbing and swaying as my bare back was pressed to the cool plaster. I could feel my nipples crinkling and hardening both from the sudden shock of the cool air and the deep throb of heat that soaked through me whenever he was rough like that with me. It was because it came from urgency, not cruelty, as if I turned him on so much, he couldn’t wait to fuck me. That and the safety of knowing that he’d never hurt me.
He gazed down at my breasts, his eyes burning. “I’ve waited three weeks to see these again.” He leaned forward and lickeda nipple, and I gasped. He began to stroke my breasts with one hand, squeezing softly as he lashed my nipples with his tongue. I drew in my breath and arched my back, wanting more, that ache inside becoming needy. But he held me pinned by my wrists and slowly teased me, covering his teeth with his lips and softly biting the sensitive buds until I thrashed and moaned.
He finally moved back a little, still holding my wrists, and looked down towards my groin. “There’s another part of you I’ve been looking forward to seeing,Krasavitsa,” The ache became heavy, sinking right down between my thighs.
He looked right into my eyes. Then, with his free hand, he gripped the waistband of my panties and tugged the right side down an inch. “It was dark, in the bookstore,” he explained, his voice thick with lust. He tugged the left side down, still holding my gaze. “I couldn’t see you properly.” He tugged the right side again, and my breath caught as I felt the cool air of the room on my sensitive folds. “Ever since then, I’ve been imagining what you look like. And now...” He tugged the left side again, pulling my panties down around my thighs. He held my gaze a moment longer...and then at last, he allowed himself to look down. I flushed and twisted as I felt his eyes devouring me: the delicate pink lips, the small strip of red-brown hair.
Radimir’s eyes flared with lust. He gave me a wolfish smile, then grabbed me by the waist, twisted and threw me onto the bed. I squeaked in delight, landing on my back with my legs kicking in the air.
He was on me instantly, his knees between my thighs, his hands cupping my cheeks, pressing me down onto the bed with his kiss. His hands went to my spit-wet breasts, his thumbs strumming the nipples as he rolled and squeezed. Ribbons of deep pink pleasure rippled down from my breasts to my groin and my ass started to circle on the bed.
He kept kissing me as he skimmed one hand down my body and then up the inside of my thigh. Two fingers brushed my pussy lips, and I moaned into his mouth. I felt him grin, and the fingers began to rub. He broke the kiss and pulled back a little so that he could watch me. Then he slid two thick fingers into me. I groaned as they stretched me, that needy ache inside me becoming heavier and denser, making me roll my hips and demand more.
Radimir kissed me again, then took my lower lip between his teeth and bit it gently. “You’re soaking wet, Mrs. Aristov.”
My face and neck flushed, the ache got denser, and my chest went fluttery, all at the same time.
“I think,” he mused, his accent turning the words to dark poetry, “I’m going to have to give my new wife plenty ofLong. Hard. Fucks—”he pushed his fingers a little deeper with each word and I gasped—”...to keep her satisfied.” He curled his fingers inside me, and I panted and humped my hips against his hand, unable to help it.
I reached up and grabbed his shoulders: I was practically naked, and he was still fully dressed. “Please,” I panted.
He buried his hand deep in my hair and used it to hold my head in place while he bent down and kissed me deep. “Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
“Say it in Russian.Pozhaluysta trakhni menya.”
That was unexpected. But I could hear the lust in his voice, feel it in the way his hand tensed in my hair. And I wanted to please him. All that time learning Russian helped my pronunciation a little but I knew I was probably going to mangle it. “Pozhaluysta trakhni menya,” I tried.
Radimir wentwild.He kissed me as if my lips were his only source of oxygen, pressing my head down into the bed while his tongue darted deep. His whole body seemed to go hard, everymuscle tense, and he drew his fingers from me and started to tear at his clothes, shucking off his jacket and waistcoat and then loosening his tie. I’d never known him to be so out of control but the knowledge that it wasmethat had done this to him, with those three little words, sent a warm blush of pride through me. I had my eyes closed, riding the waves of pleasure from the kiss, but I reached up and started blindly popping the buttons of his shirt, working my way down his body as far as I could reach. I heard him strip his shirt off and hurl it away and the next time his chest brushed my breasts, it was naked. Then there was the leather creak of his belt and a rustle of fabric. A couple of heavy thumps that had to be shoes hitting the floor. He was getting naked,fast,and all the time he was still kissing me, kissing me….
He finally broke the kiss and pulled back a little. I opened my eyes to see him naked, positioning himself between my thighs, his cock in his hand.God,I’d forgotten how big he was. And he was rock hard, the head bulbous and thick, the shaft so firm...
He stroked his cock. A clear bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip. “Ready to be made my wife?” he growled, rolling on a condom.
I nodded. I could hear my heartbeat pounding. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I want to be made your wife.” And then...I’d never been good at talking dirty, but looking down at my body, seeing the corset and the stockings and the heels...it almost felt like a costume that let me be as filthy as I wanted. And the Russian made it easier, too. “Pozhaluysta trakhni menya...moy muzh,”I said in a rush.Please fuck me...my husband.
His eyes gleamed. He planted one hand next to my head and positioned himself, the head of him just parting my lips. Then he surged forward with his hips.
I grabbed at the sheets with both hands as he spread me,stretchedme. That glorious silken slide as he plunged deepinside me, the heat of him filling me, then the nervous flutter of my walls as they adjusted to his size. He pulled back and thrust again, his ass clenching, and pushed deeper. I arched my back: each new millimeter of me he touched set off a fresh burst of silvery, shimmering pleasure. He drew back again, and this time when he thrust, he kept the movement going, flexing his hips to press himself deeper, deeper…
Deeper.I felt the base of his cock kiss my entrance and knew that he was hilted in me.
He put his forearms either side of my head and settled lower on me andGod,the feeling of his muscled body on me, his hips spreading my thighs, his pecs pressing against my breasts. I looked down at the tattoos that covered his chest: I’d never seen them so close before. A dark tapestry of stars, symbols and writing in Cyrillic that left no doubt as to what he was. Naked, with all his powerful muscles on show and without the suit to give him a veneer of respectability, he looked even more dangerous. Tattooed, naked and between my thighs, with me in my bridal lingerie, he really did look like a villain, claiming an innocent princess as his prize. A dark pulse of heat rippled down my body and my pussy tightened around him.
He began to move and God, the silken friction of him as he slid from me, the rush of heat and silvery pleasure as he filled me again. Taking his weight on his forearms, he cupped my face in his hands and stroked my cheekbones with his thumbs. He looked deep into my eyes, and I could see the concentration on his face as he fucked me in gentle waves. It was glorious.Loving.But each strokeoutmade the aching need more intense. And each strokeinfed the heat that was building inside me...but not quite enough for it to ignite.
I looked up at him. It was because we were married, now. He was holding himself back, being gentle with his new wife. Butgentlewasn’t what I needed. Three weeks ago, I couldn’t have said the words out loud, but now…
“H—Harder,” I said.