They'd ridden for about forty-five minutes, neither speaking because... well... she couldn't speak. She could only breathe away the hunger that had become so ravenous she thought she would have to beg him to stop and give her some release. She breathed a sigh of relief when Casimir stopped abruptly and dismounted.
Lissa looked around her. They were in a grove of trees. The sound of water trickled somewhere nearby. It was very secluded and she sent up a little prayer of thanks. When he lifted his arms to her, she went into them immediately. He held her close while she got her legs back under her.
"Take off your blouse, golubushka," he said softly. "But leave your bra on."
She didn't hesitate. She was so ready. She unbuttoned her blouse. He took it from her, folded it carefully and put it in the bag attached to his saddle.
"I noticed you like me to play with your breasts. That really turns you on. And you especially like me to be a little rough with your nipples." He drew the chain out of his pocket. "These will feel like fingers applying pressure, keeping your breasts stimulated. But, malyshka, if it doesn't feel good, we won't do it."
She wanted the chain. It was beautiful, and she could see in his eyes that the very idea brought him pleasure. She nodded, her breath caught in her lungs.
He drew her toward him, hooking her around the waist. "You'll like this, Giacinta. This is fun for both of us, preparing you for your clamps."
That brought another spasm deep in her sex. If he didn't get on with it, she wasn't going to need his cock inside her, she'd be having a wild orgasm all by herself.
He bent his head to her breasts. He had a talented mouth and he used it. Licking. Sucking. Biting. His hands kneaded the soft mounds while his mouth and tongue worked her nipples. She found herself nearly sobbing, cradling his head to her, pressing on him, wanting more. Needing more. Her nipples were so hard, standing straight up, and she could barely speak.
"Honey, I can't stand it. I need more. Let me have your..." She reached down for the front of his jeans.
He stepped back and held up the chain. "I think you're ready now. I'll be gentle." He opened the clamp to the fullest and, watching her face carefully, began to screw it on.
Her breath left her lungs in a long rush at the pressure. Fire raced from her nipple straight to her clit. He stopped just before it went from pleasure/pain to sheer pain. He bent and brushed a kiss over her nipple and turned his attention to the other breast. When she was fully clamped and the chain was suspended between her breasts, he stepped back, his hand skimming down her bare midriff before he just stood there studying her.
"You look so beautiful. I knew that black skirt and bra would look so fucking hot with that gold chain. Come on, malyshka." He beckoned to her.
She walked toward him. Slow. Each step deliberate. Watching his face, loving the look. When she reached him, her spanned her waist with his hands.
"Pick up your skirt like you did before," he whispered, his hands stroking over her body. Touching her. He tipped her face back with fingers under her chin and took her mouth. There was possession in his kiss. Command. He took complete control. "Do it," he murmured against her mouth. "Lift your skirt like I showed you." He kissed her again. And again. Over and over.
Lissa could barely think with wanting him. Her blood roared in her ears, rushed through her veins like a fireball, settling low until the pressure and the burn were so strong she tried moving into him to wrap one leg around him.
"Your skirt." There was iron in his voice.
She obeyed without thinking. Instantly he lifted her and set her on the back of the horse. She clutched the animal with her thighs automatically, squeezing hard. The fibers in the thin pad he'd strapped over the saddle seat rubbed into her sex. Her horse side-stepped, sending her breasts and the chain swaying, adding tension and pressure to her nipples. She gasped at the dual sensations.
"Honey," she breathed. She looked down at his upturned face. He stared at her with a look she'd never seen before, one that made her slick with desire. Her channel spasmed. She wanted to see that look a million more times. Sitting in the saddle, dripping with need, lust rising, desire so intense she barely knew her own name, was worth it just for that look.
He adjusted his jeans, opened them in the front to give the thick girth more room and swung on his horse.
"Casimir, someone might come along..."
"They won't." He didn't say anything else, but he rode beside her, watching her face more than the trail.
With every step the horse took, her breasts swayed. The fibers caressed and stroked her hungry sex. She tried subtly rubbing her body along the pad in the hopes it would relieve some of the tension coiled so tight in her, but the action, along with the rocking motion of the horse, only increased her need. Every so often, without a word, Casimir leaned over and hooked his finger in the chain, lifting it gently. The action lifted her breasts and increased the pressure on her nipples until she cried out, nearly sobbing for relief. She arched her back and rubbed her thighs frantically.
"Honey, I need you." She whispered the admission, unable to stand the scorching fire between her legs one more minute. Her entire body felt on fire.
"I'm sorry, Giacinta." He kept riding, smiling down at her. "I didn't hear you. What did you say?"
She sighed. He was in the mood to play. "I said I need you. I really do."
"What do you need from me?" he asked.
"You know very well."
He put his boot heels into the side of his horse and instantly it began a slow trot. Her horse automatically followed suit. With every bounce, lightning sizzled from nipples to clit. She swore it flashed through her body, strike after strike.
"I need your cock," she called. "Please, honey. Right now. I need it inside me, right now."
He immediately turned his horse around, back to hers. His hands went to the front of his jeans. Standing in the stirrups, he freed his cock completely, so it jutted out in front of him, an intimidating steel spike. She wanted to weep with joy at the sight. She needed him so much she was nearly incoherent.
He took the reins of her horse from her hands and hooked a lead rope onto the animal's bridle. "Hold your skirt up," he ordered, and reached for her.
Her breasts swayed as he transferred her from her saddle to his horse. He set her on the larger animal, one hand sliding under her skirt, the other steadying her. He ripped the lace away from her body, wadded it up and shoved it in the pocket of his jeans. Her breath came in frantic, ragged gasps. She couldn't stop her hands from stroking his cock, that magnificent part of him she needed so desperately. In truth, she barely was aware of her panties being gone, she couldn't take her hands or her mind from his heavy erection. Other than his exposed cock, he was fully clothed. For some reason, that made her feel all the more erotic sitting there in her bra, the gold chain and her skirt hiked up nearly to her waist with no panties.
He stood in the stirrups again. "Take out my balls, Giacinta."
Nearly sobbing for him, licking her lips, she did so immediately, widening the gap in his jeans so she could bring his heavy sac into the open air. His hands spanned her waist again. Casimir lifted her, her breasts brushing his chest.
"Keep your skirt up," he commanded again. She did so, feeling the crown of his cock pushing against her slick entrance. "Is this what you want, malyshka?"
She gripped the base of his cock, holding him still, but he continually moved her body, holding her suspended over him, all the while controlling the horse with his thighs.
"Yes." She could see that wasn't enough for him. He teased her, smearing her slick heat all around the head of his cock without letting her impale herself. "Please, honey, I can't stand it."
She was going to go insane. Her entire attention was focused on the junction between her legs, the fire roaring there, and his beautiful, long, thick cock.
"So desperate. Since you ask so sweetly..."
He slammed her down hard, his shaft driving through her scorching-hot folds,
the fit so excruciating tight he threw back his head and roared. The breath left her lungs. She screamed, forgetting for a moment that they were on his horse. The animal moved restlessly and Casimir controlled it with his legs. He reached behind her and caught up the reins of her horse as well.
Bending his head, he sucked the chain into his mouth and lifted his head. She cried out again as the movement lifted her breasts higher. He urged the horse forward, into a trot, using the stirrups to control their movement. The action sent his body moving in hers. Filling her. Stretching her. Burning her from the inside out. Her fingers clutched his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh right through the material of his shirt. This was almost as bad as the fabric rubbing against her. It was more stimulation, but she needed much more. She tried to hold on to his shoulders and lift herself, to give her the rougher, harder strokes she needed.
He lifted his chin more and turned it to one side, controlling her body with the chain in his mouth. She cried out again as fire flashed through her. She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to him. She couldn't force him to do what she wanted, and she knew, in the end, he would take care of her. She had to trust him to do that for her. She trusted him always to have her back in a dangerous situation, and she knew exactly what he was doing now. He wanted complete trust. Complete surrender to him. She was his and he would care for her in every way. Always.
The moment she relaxed into his body, melting around his cock, he increased the speed of the horse so that every jolt was felt through her entire body. He rose and fell with the gait of the horse, giving her long, hard strokes until she was sobbing, so close, her breasts aching, her nipples feeling as if a thousand fingers held them tight, pinching and rolling with every step.
"Give me that gift, malyshka. Give it to me."
At the sound of his voice, that soft, sexy command, she exploded. The orgasm roared through her like a fireball, going from her center to her belly and then engulfing her breasts. She wailed, chanted his name. She had never felt anything that intense, and it went on forever. Her body grasped at his. Milked and insisted.
He drove up again, over and over. All the while his mouth worked the chain, and the next wave of flames roared through her, this one far hotter and stronger than the last, a towering inferno that swept him along with her, so that his hoarse shout mingled with her frantic cries. He let the chain slip from his mouth and she fell forward, her forehead pressed tight against his chest.
Casimir slowed the horse, finally bringing it to a halt. His arms swept around her. "Giacinta," he said softly.
She lifted her face and he captured her mouth, kissing her over and over, all the while still buried inside of her. Very gently, he caught her around the waist to lift her off of him. "Step into the stirrup."
She did so and then she was thankfully on the ground. She had to clutch the stirrup to steady herself and then he was beside her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her, with the horses, to a small clearing in the center of a grove of trees.
"How did you know this was here?"
He flashed a smile as he tied the horses to low branches, giving them plenty of room to graze on the grass. "It's a wonder what a few bribes will get you."
Casimir spread a blanket on the ground and gestured for her to sit. She watched as he pulled out the picnic basket and set it down before kneeling in front of her. "I need to take off the clamps and this can get intense."
Her hands went to her tender nipples. He shook his head and gently pushed her hands away. "Let me. I'll be gentle."
She let her hands slide down to his thigh. All the while she kept her gaze glued to his face. He looked happy. Happy. That was her making him happy. She'd never realized until that moment that the look on his face was rare.
His fingers brushed the swell of her breast. "Okay, golubushka, I'm going to have you take a deep breath and I'll take the clamp off. While I do, release your breath very, very slowly. It's going to hurt for just a moment, but I'll make it feel better." He waited for her nod.
She took the breath and let it out slowly as he removed the clamp. Blood rushed back and she nearly cried out at the bite of pain. His mouth covered her nipple and he gently licked and stroked with his tongue, soothing the ache. He sucked gently and almost at once the pain subsided.
He lifted his head. "Better?" She nodded. "Now the other one. Don't tense up. Take a breath. I'm right here."
His mouth was a miracle, his touch so gentle she wanted to cry. After making certain there was no pain, he caught the hem of her skirt, tugged it up and then took two cloths from his bag. One was wet, in a plastic bag, and he used it to clean her between her legs and then dried her with the second one.
"If you like the clamps," he said, as he cleaned her off, "we can use them occasionally but for no more than ten minutes or so."
"Casimir, they had to have been on for an hour."
He grinned at her. Shook his head. "Ten minutes. We were quick once we got going. I was so hard I was afraid I'd shatter. And you were scorching hot." He finished cleaning himself off and then leaned over and took her breast into his mouth again, still gentle, his tongue soothing her nipple. "Are you sore?"
"Sensitive more than sore. You didn't have them on that tight."
He opened the picnic basket, handed her a sandwich and took one himself. "I've never seen anything hotter or more beautiful than you were with your skirt up around your bare thighs, that bra and the clamps with the chain. I didn't think I was going to last. You held out a long time."
She took the bottled water he handed her, the cap off, and sipped it. "You wanted me to trust you with everything, didn't you?"
He nodded, his silver eyes moving over her face. "I need that from you. To know whatever I ask, inside the bedroom or out, you trust in me enough to give it to me. After all the betrayals in your life, I wouldn't blame you if you couldn't, but having your trust is important to me."
"I'm inside your head, Casimir. It's hard to lie to someone who can see inside your head sometimes."
He nodded his agreement. "I know it is, but it's more than that. You gave me something much more than seeing inside my head, Giacinta. You surrendered to me. That's something I don't take lightly. Your surrender is something I'll always treasure, so that you'll always know you're safe with me."
They shared their picnic lunch, enjoying each other and the beauty of their surroundings. Casimir led the horses to the small stream so they could drink before tying them up again. She had his cock for dessert and then fell asleep in the afternoon sun, sprawled as usual over top of him. He woke her an hour later and made love to her, starting slow and gentle, giving her a sweet, satisfying orgasm, and then flipping her over, yanking her up on her hands and knees and slamming into her hard and fast, her very favorite. They finished together and collapsed again.
Lissa slipped her hand into his. "Best honeymoon ever, Casimir. Thank you."
19
With the golden domes soaring into the sky, the hotel was considered one of the treasures of St. Petersburg. It was built in the time of masters of architecture, the building a work of art, carefully preserved and modernized. It was clearly undergoing another renovation, but Lissa was surprised it was being done with the utmost care. She had expected the Sorbacovs - both father and son - to be wrecking balls, crude, rude men who stepped on others to get what they wanted.
Neither man appeared to be in the least like that. Both were charming, elegant and very charismatic. She could see how Uri could easily finesse his way to the presidency. Both were dressed in suits and came immediately to meet her, not making her wait even five minutes. Both bowed over her hand. Uri looked her over, his gaze as surprised as hers.
"Your pictures don't do you justice, my dear," he said in perfect English. "I thought you attractive, but you're stunning."
She smiled up at him and allowed him to tuck her hand into the crook of his arm. "Thank you."
"Have you eaten? We thought it would be good to take a tour
of the hotel first and while we talk business, we have a little something prepared if you're hungry."
"I will confess I took a nap and skipped eating, so that would be lovely, thank you." She flashed a smile toward the older Sorbacov, studying him under her lashes. He was handsome, not quite as good-looking as his son, but certainly handsome. No scars. Not a single one. Every single Prakenskii brother had scars. Sorbacov had been instrumental in putting those scars on them when they were just boys. He didn't look like a monster. In fact, he looked like the furthest thing from a monster she could imagine - but then, to her, Luigi hadn't looked like a monster either.
The two men walked her around the lobby, a huge room with very high ceilings and astonishing details along the walls. Little alcoves were carved into the walls where old-fashioned sconces were nestled, adding to the ambiance of the room.
She indicated them. "Those are beautiful. Whatever you get for overhead lighting, or dramatic effect, you will definitely want your chandeliers to incorporate those colors and the designs of the wall sconces. No one has anything like that anymore." She didn't have to pretend enthusiasm or admiration. She loved the sconces. They were from another era and yet fit perfectly into the modern world.