Russian Heat Page 4

“Suck them yourself.” Her defiance lashed him, made his dominant edge keener.

  Delighted, he gripped her chin and snarled at her. “Open.”

  She jerked in his arms as Vlad spread her labia open wide with a hand on each fold, dipping his thrust-out tongue between her thighs. Thwarted by the angle, his view was limited to Vlad’s head and arms. Slava imagined they were at his Moscow apartment. He had a wardrobe with sliding mirror doors, and a box with interesting toys, and would have Vlad fuck Jane with a dildo as he watched, her head resting against his chest as it was now and her legs spread wide. His eyes would miss nothing as the black rubber sank into her fuck hole, violating her with each plunge.

  “Open that fucking mouth,” he demanded and thrilled when she turned her face away, jaw clenched, a moan catching in her throat at what Vlad was doing to her clit.

  He used both hands to unhinge her jaw and force his fingers in. “Suck.” He moved a hand to her throat, rested it there, the threat feather-light. Her eyes gleamed and then her tongue swiped his knuckles playfully before warm suction engulfed his fingers. He felt a drop of pre-cum form on his dick.

  “That’s more like it.” His heart galloped in his ears, almost drowning out Vlad’s lusty slurping noises and the wet smack of Jane’s mouth on his fingers. Keeping his eyes trained on hers, he drew his fingers out and then forged them back in, setting up a fucking motion that drew a glint of recognition from her. Her back arched, tilting her head against his shoulder, and he saw Vlad had removed his mouth, still wet with her cream, to cosset her pussy with his large, blunt fingers while his thumb stroked her clit like a trigger.

  “Babe, you move around too much. How are we expected to fuck you nice if you can’t keep still?” Vlad asked.

  He emphasised his point by spearing her with his fingers, making her arch and twist in Slava’s arms. Slava felt his gut tighten at the words, their special meaning. An extra pulse of blood squeezed through his dick as Vlad used his thumb to extort a long, drawn-out moan from Jane. Like him, Vlad liked his fun a little on the mean side.

  ~* * *~

  Some of her sanity returned as Vlad’s relentless thumb retreated. She realised Slava was whispering in her ear, urging her to scoot along with his hands. “Up, up, up.”

  Finding her balance on the swaying mattress, she looked for Vlad. He was leaving now?

  The approach of his brisk step sent a tide of relief washing through her. Distracted by the ridge plunging from his lean sides to carve a V-shaped frame around his erection, she didn’t notice the rope until he tossed it to Slava.

  Rope? She considered it, came to the conclusion that as long as everyone remembered how to undo their magic knots, she had no issues. Slava kneeled on the mattress, back to her, doing his boy-scout thing with the rope on the wrought iron bed frame, and she admired the clench of his taut ass muscles, wondered if he’d get cranky if she grabbed a handful.

  Busy objectifying her protective security, she failed to register Vlad’s stealthy approach until he pounced. A yelp slipped free from her surprised body, and Vlad clapped a hand over her mouth, shooting a glance at the walls. She moaned under his hot, sweaty palm, salty brine tickling her nostrils. He massaged her arm in reassurance. “Shhh, it’s okay, but don’t yell.”

  She nodded, heart punching her chest, and he took his hand away to instead pin her against him with a meaty forearm hooked around her waist, pressing her hard up against his slab-like trunk. The furnace of his restraining grip drew sweat from her, rivulets dribbling down her spine as Slava closed in on them. Through heavy lids she noted the stern calm that settled over his harsh features at the sight of Vlad’s arm manacling her. Stopping before her, he nudged the point of his index finger an inch above her navel before tracing the rim of her belly’s pothole. The lazy ripple in her cunt echoed the tightening of her stomach as he fingered her navel slit deeper, the shrapnel grey flecks in his hazel eyes a trap, sucking her deep into his steadfast and tranquil stare.

  “You ready for this, Jane?” he asked, and she nodded, though not exactly sure what he meant by “this”.

  “Roll on a condom and I’ll put her on your dick,” Vlad said. Slava gave a nod and returned to the bed, positioned himself in the centre of the mattress, stiff erection swaying like a flag pole as he rolled a rubber down his length and tore open a sachet of gel, smearing it from head to root of his cock.

  Vlad lifted her into position over him, giving her enough time to find her balance on her knees, before taking her wrists and placing them behind her back, slipping the rope attached to the bed frame over both wrists. The rough bristles scratched her wrists as Vlad tightened the pulley rope, increasing the tension. He pressed another rope between her hands. “You can pull on this rope to ease the pressure on your arms and wrists. Don’t let go of it. If you drop it, tell us. Those ropes around your wrists okay?”

  She flexed her arms. “I guess, it doesn’t hurt.”

  “Good, then why don’t you fuck that cock waiting under your ass?”

  The crude words made her flush, as they were no doubt meant to. Hands bound behind her, Vlad’s tone turning mean and Slava’s face growing eerily calm, she got an inkling of how dark things were about to get. A shiver wracked her. She pulled on the rope between her hands, testing Vlad’s words, and found it eased the pressure as he’d said.

  “Spread your legs wider, babe.” Vlad backed his words up with a hard slap to her rump.

  She drilled him with a look. “Technically, you know, my government pays your salary, so you spread your fucking legs.”

  “Oh, ho! Aren’t we brave with our hands tied behind our back?”

  She snarled, tried to bite him when he planted a palm on each thigh and nudged them outwards, spreading her legs for her. Slava’s cockhead brushed her entrance, and she felt his hands position himself at the mouth of her pussy. She needed no encouragement to bear down on his rigid flesh. Wiggling her hips to slide herself past his thick tip, she groaned as she forced herself down each blissful inch. Slava’s face, open and sweating below her, re-defined ecstasy.

  “Jane, fuck.”

  His engorged flesh felt just the right size inside her, and she was ready for him to pump her as soon as he stopped gasping and muttering the word “tight” in Russian. The bitter smell of latex and lubricant mixed with the smell of his sweat, a heady aroma that stirred her lust.

  “What the fuck are you waiting for, Slava?” she snarled.

  His answering rumble of laughter shook her. With her hands bound behind her, and only the soft mattress beneath her knees, Slava had almost full control over the depth of her penetration and he took full advantage of the fact, used his big hands on her hips to toss her high and then slowly slide her back down his length. He tossed her up again, but this time slammed her back down on his hips, drawing a low grunt of surprise and satisfaction from her.

  She looked over her shoulder at Vlad, wondering where he fit into the picture, and was surprised by a look of intense longing on his face.

  ~* * *~

  Vlad thought he might implode.

  The sight of Jane slowly sinking onto Slava’s cock had to be the most obscenely beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her face as she took each inch, mouth rounding in a soundless O, cheeks red, eyes glistening. He could never get enough of that look. Their hot little bitch was in heaven. No doubt Slava’s dick was in heaven too. He snagged a hand in Jane’s hair and tilted her face to force her eyes on him.

  “That feel good, Jane? Is Slava stretching your pussy out nice and wide and filling you up?”

  “Yes,” she gasped and he smiled.

  “Good girl. You keep being good to Slava’s dick and I’ll reward you with a nice fat cock in your mouth.”

  He observed how she licked her lips and parted them, offering her mouth to him all wide and hungry. His dick surged at the thought of fucking her hot little mouth while Slava watched. He desperately wanted the visual of such a submissive act on her part. Right now, on her knees, hands boun
d, her mouth begging for his cock while her pussy was stuffed full of Slava, she was a sight he could easily fall in love with.

  “Open wide, Jane.” His deep, rasping voice made it a command, and the need to be mouth-fucked must have been hard on her because she obeyed without hesitation, straining sideways so he could feed his cock into her eager mouth.

  Kneeling on the mattress next to her, he worked his shaft between her lips steadily. The satin walls of her mouth caressed his swollen prick, threatening to push him over the brink. He froze, his sensitive cock a hiccup away from disaster, and a jumble of images flashed before his eyes. Jane with her arms pinned over her head, Jane gagged, Jane tied spread-eagled on his bed with silk scarves, Jane between his legs as Slava worked her with a dildo. Jane sleeping between them, Jane waking with them, Jane eating with them. Jane everywhere. Always Jane.

  As she bobbed her mouth up and down his length, he sniffed in a harsh breath at the tight seal of her mouth over his dick. He imagined sinking his meat in her ass while Slava fucked her pussy, craved the act of double penetration with an intensity that flooded his mouth, but kept reminding his dick she was a virgin to anal sex.

  Denying the urge to ass-fuck her nearly choked him but for once he needed the woman more than he needed to satisfy his dark cravings, and would take whatever she’d give him. He thanked whatever lucky twist of fate had brought Jane Ransom into their sphere. He and Slava would find a way to keep her, or to follow her to the ends of earth, wherever it was she was tormenting sheep and inviting trouble.

  Vlad grimaced, cursing the exquisite tightness of her mouth as his ears and neck flushed deep red and he had to recite the names of all the players in his home-town ice hockey team to keep from spilling. She ate him hungrily, swirling her tongue around his head, taking him in as deep in her mouth would allow, pausing when his cock bumped the back of her throat testing her limits. That her hands were bound behind her, unable to control his thrusts as she obediently devoured his prick, made the act all the more darkly satisfying.

  Slava’s silence made him wonder if his friend had passed out from bliss but a quick glance at his friend’s hazel eyes narrowed in intense concentration reassured him. However, Slava looked close to release and Vlad eased out of Jane’s mouth, the glistening head popping wetly from between her lips. He was happy to delay his release so he could work to bring her pleasure first, before Slava came.

  He eyed Jane’s glistening swollen lips. “Ready, babe? Ready for both holes to be filled up?”

  “Just shut up and fuck me, Vlad.” Jane’s body jiggled as Slava shook with soundless laughter below her.

  “What a nasty mouth. Bet I can fuck that out of you.” Vlad licked her neck as he pressed her down and forward over Slava, hot, hard swipes that triggered a shiver along her spine.

  “Better men than—God!” Her invective was cut off as he bored into her ass with a lubricated finger, whispering a stream of soft praise between planting soft kisses over her back.

  Slava thrashed beneath Jane and Vlad had little doubt her pussy had snapped down on him tighter than a bear trap.

  “Vlad, have you got a finger in Jane’s ass?”

  “Perhaps,” he said, as Jane wriggled down harder on his finger.

  “Good, do your thing, because I’m about to shoot.”

  ~* * *~

  Do your thing?

  Did that mean what she thought it might mean? The thought of Vlad’s cock forging into her tight rear sent her heart skittering in equal parts of fear and excitement.

  “Harder, Slava,” she urged and he obliged, thrusting hard enough to dig a trench.

  Still it wasn’t enough. The image of Vlad slapping her rump stole through her brain but she denied the masochistic need whispering to her, refused to give voice to her body’s dark cravings. Instead she closed her eyes and conjured Vlad’s earlier torture of her nipples, the way he’d held her against the cold bathroom tiles, Slava’s rough demand that she suck his fingers, his hand around her throat when she refused. Her body tightened dangerously, her skin an unbearable restraint around her pulsing nerves.

  Still, she couldn’t quite reach release, and if she hadn’t been a white-hot supernova of need, she might have felt shame at the way she twisted and strained, tightness pricking her skin as she burned, impaled on the end of two men, wishing Vlad would replace his finger with his cock if it would make her come.

  She met his eyes as his slick, blunt digit breached her anus, sliding in and out of her. Her sphincter winked in query at the light sting and but the sting was nothing in comparison to the thick, heavy bliss of double penetration, the sensation treacle in her veins.

  Gasping, she squirmed, tried to impale herself further on the stave spearing her, dimly heard Vlad’s chuckle.

  “Vlad, help me.”

  His eyes told her he understood. He raised a palm and brought it down smartly, smacking her sweat-slicked thigh, the wet slap knifing the air. As an angry red flower bloomed on her creamy skin, her anus convulsed around his finger and her breathing hitched. Slava’s thrusting inside her paused before he gave a final pump of his hips and came in a rush, groaning and cursing his release in Russian.

  She looked to Vlad in mute appeal. As he lifted his hand, the expectation was exquisite torture. He gave her nipple a vicious twist and her mouth fell open in rapture, her eyes fluttering shut for a long moment, lids twitching as her body quivered from head to toe, her head drooping limp on the stalk of her neck as she choked out her pleasure and felt Vlad’s finger slip from her. Only Slava’s hands kept her from collapsing forward, and Vlad’s harsh breath was hot in her ear, his grip on her arms tightening as her bone-deep orgasm shook her, jerking her arms and making her muscles wrench.

  As the violence of her spasms repeatedly wracked her, arching her spine, Vlad savagely jerked himself next to her, a shot of rough-edged rapture dragging a cry of release from him as his body seized and his release surged from him.

  The smell of sweat and come hung heavy in the still air.

  “Kiss me,” she said, breathless. Her heart swelled with an emotion somewhere between reunion and triumph when one proud head bent to take her mouth, and another rose up reaching, both their hands searching to cup the back of her head so they could press lips to hers.

  Rawness suffused the gesture with tenderness, and when Vlad pulled back to brand her with a look, she could see vestiges of that rawness in his molten grey eyes. Exhaustion swamped her, and she heard rather than saw Vlad move to untie her bindings.

  Boneless, she slumped forward and Vlad unpinned her arms to wrap a strong bicep around her limp body. He rubbed her tingling arms as she tried to regain her breath, planted a trail of kisses along each arm that sent a quiver running through her anew before laying her down, his body wrapped around hers.

  The room was cool but she had two bodies to warm her, Vlad’s heartbeat tapping her back, his pulse echoed by Slava’s against her breast. Wanting to hear the bass of Slava’s heart, she wriggled down until her head rested on his scarred chest, rising in time with his breathing. Vlad gave a deep rumble of contentment that mirrored her own peace and the placid glow in Slava’s eyes.

  Drenched and sated, they twined together, an unmoving heap shaken by the intensity of what had passed. Long after the rise and fall of their chests calmed, Jane couldn’t be bothered to move or talk, and laid there simply absorbing the weight of her limbs, the prickle of mingled sweat drying on her skin and the combined heat of their bodies. She drowsed until morning, when Vlad woke her.

  “I sent a message to the apartment owner. She said we can stay another night but that’s all. Where we’re heading, we probably won’t find another room like this again.”

  She blinked, not understanding his message until he waved an accusing finger in her face.

  “But don’t think this is a one-off, or that you can just forget all about us after twelve weeks and write this off as some holiday romance.”

  It would have to be one of the strang
est romances or holidays in history but she ignored those points to focus on the issue. “Vlad, one night of sex does not equal a relationship.”

  His face set in a familiar landscape of stubbornness. “You think I don’t know the difference between good sex—no, mind-blowing sex—and feelings?”

  As she gaped at him, he bent and pressed a hard kiss on her lips. “And don’t think I don’t know you feel the same way. You’d have to convince me that you always go off like a Katyusha in bed.”

  To Vlad, being compared with a Soviet rocket launcher was no doubt high praise but she knew she was no sex-bomb, not even a firecracker. She didn’t think she could sustain their level of sexual intensity for long.

  Slava rubbed her back, and then trailed his lips over the spot. “Vlad’s right. You should give us a chance.”

  A chance? What chance would she stand if she repeated tonight’s show on a regular basis? She might as well hand them her heart in a box for detonation. Delightful as the thought of spooning with her hostile environment consultants each night was, she had her career to consider, as did they.

  Not to mention the fireworks, the unpleasant kind, she imagined her independent streak would set off on a regular basis. Mind reeling, she left the warm bed to search for her clothes. The tiles were ice under her feet as she hunted down her panties and other garments. Tantalizing images of sharing a small but warm apartment with Vlad and Slava teased her as she dressed and she shook them off. Impossible.

  The sensation of clothes against her tender flesh was almost unbearable but she felt more secure dressed, even if they were staying another night. Clothes, her new body armour against Vlad and Slava. Probably as effective as throwing oranges at a tank.

  Much as she wanted to deny it, it would be stupid to deny herself a stab at happiness if these men were offering to take a chance also. No one had ever affected her as much as these career warriors with their earthy humour and rough tenderness.

  Returning to the bedroom she paused in the doorway, stared at the sight of the Russians tucked under the blankets, strategically positioned. Vlad lay to the far left of the bed, Slava to the far right and an empty pillow rested between their shoulders. The old sandwich trick. What was she going to do with these two? Perhaps it was best just to humour them...