CHAPTER NINE
LIAM
Viktoriya arrives right on time at the linen room. Compared to my building, this one is significantly quieter, but the odd athlete or staff member still passes by.
She’s wearing her team jacket and jeans, her hair pinned up in a loose bun.
I nod at the door. “I’m afraid my credit card trick won’t work with this one.”
She simply smiles and pulls the pins out from her hair, shaking it free around her shoulders. “Allow me.”
I’m amazed at the way Viktoriya works the pins into the door lock, her face fixed in concentration. To my surprise, the door pops open in less than a minute.
I look down the hallway to make sure we’re alone. “And where did you learn to do that? It’s a major turn-on, yes, but it’s not exactly a skill you pick up in high school.”
She laughs. “My coach showed me, actually.”
“Why, in God’s name?”
Viktoriya pushes the door open and switches on the light. “She thought if I ever got locked in a room before a performance, at least I’d know how to get out. I suppose she was worried I’d become another Nancy Kerrigan.”
“She thought someone was going to bust your knee?”
Viktoriya smiles and enters the room. “She thought of everything.”
The door closed behind us, a single light buzzing above, the room is nothing but a set of shelves stacked with sheets, pillows, and laundry.
Behind the shelves in a small alcove. Viktoriya leads me around to it, to a pile of quilts stacked up in the corner. She lets go of my hand and stands before me the picture of sexuality. “It’s not the most romantic place in the world, but I don’t imagine you mind.”
I reach down for my belt. My cock can’t get any harder. I’ve never felt need like this, such a desperation to be with someone. “You’re right about that.”
We undress as quickly as our clothes with allow in between kissing. Each article parts from our bodies with a soft murmur, drifting to the floor.
I’m surprised to find Viktoriya is wearing a bright red thong tonight, her arousal rising up between us a potent aphrodisiac.
Naked, even under this poor, artificial light, she’s strikingly attractive. She looks down at herself, smiling as I take her in. “At least I’m wearing team colors.”
I take hold of her thong and drag it down her legs. “Not for long.”
I kiss my way up her legs, laying her back on the pile of quilts and spreading her legs wide.
I kneel back.
Her expression changes as she looks over the solid member rising from my pelvis, a tower of flesh. I’ve seen that look before, the ‘How the hell am I going to fit that inside me?’ look.
Yawning wide, her pussy is amazing– scarlet, fuchsia and pink all at once. Its folds are wet and glistening, ready for whatever I deem fit. It begs to be taken, adored.
I’m on her in a second. I kiss her on the neck again, but this time the trail leads downwards until my fingers are curling around a breast and the salty sweetness of her nipple fills my mouth. I pull it gently from her body as she runs her hands into my hair, her fingernails clawing down my scalp as she casts her head back into the pile of quilts and her hips buck upwards against my chest and patient cock.
I want to draw it out, make her beg me to fuck her, to take her apart piece by piece from within.
I’m falling again, hands running down her sides until my mouth is on the creamy interior of her thighs, my fingertips at her needy sex. I lick at her skin, but leave her pussy. I spread her lips apart with my thumbs and run circles around her clit. Her head snaps back again and the sound she makes is that of a purely sexual creature.
I nibble at her rosy lips, teasing and drawing out of the pleasure. She tastes incredible.
When my tongue probes into her wetness, she stretches out like a cat, toes curling against my legs as I push myself deeper into her body. I savor everything about her.
I rise up over her, straddling her pale torso.
My member bobs between us. She reaches up and clasps it with her snowy fingers, barely able to connect around the base.
Her eyes are searching, but I give nothing away.
I can’t take this any longer. I have to be inside her.
I kiss her on the mouth one last time before flipping her over on the quilts.
She arches her back, pressing her ass out as I reach to my jeans for a condom, slipping it on as she whimpers and pleads for my cock.
I come in behind her, take her in—the sights, the sounds, her scent.
Against her behind, my cock looks obscenely large, but the juxtaposition only makes me harder. I want nothing more than to bury myself deep into her tight little body and fuck the world away.
“I’m ready,” she says, and with this approval, I move forward.