Russell Adler x Reader

Forty-One (Smut)

You let your tongue play with the tip of his dick. The taste of salt spread on your lips, mixed with the smell of shampoo and body lotion.

He had taken a shower before this.

Russell had his eyes fixed on you, one hand on the back of your head.

A deep, dark shadow of desire was raging inside the bright blue.

He wanted to look at you while you pleased him.

He wanted to remember the little expressions, the unsure shimmer in those (E/C) eyes of yours whenever you looked up at him.

He wanted to take the warm feeling of your wet tongue and lock it safely away in the back of his brain so he'd never forget the day he was allowed to be with the person he actually desired.

Never before had he felt this way.

He wanted more.

He needed more.

But no matter what he could have said or not said, it wouldn't change a thing.

Russell knew you had made a decision. He didn't agree with it nor did he understand.

But he would respect it.

Because he respected you.

A deep, shivering breath escaped his lips as you lowered your head and started working his length up and down.

Not only was he a handsome man, he was also well packaged, with a long dick, wide enough to make it hard to wrap your middle finger around.

Closing his eyes, he let out another deep breath and pushed your head down further.

The tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, making you gag in surprise.

You pulled back to catch some air, but pushed down again and started chocking him.

The rubbing sensation earned you a soft groan.

The sound, a first time hearing it for you, was enough to send heat chasing through your body.

Your middle twitched and all of a sudden it felt electrified, as if something was waiting to be released.

Your tongue wrapped around him, stroking him from the deepest point you were able to reach to the tip and back.

He twitched inside your mouth.

All of a sudden, his hand grabbed a fist full of your (H/C) hair and pulled you back up.

Breathing heavily, you released him from your mouth. Strands of saliva dripped over your skin.

He pulled you close to trace the wet trails with his tongue.

Impatient, your legs rubbed together, causing your middle to twitch with excitement.

His hands found the buckle of your bellt. Not a moment later the pants dropped to your ankles.

Like hypnotised, he traced your shape with his hands.

The touch made you exhale sharply.

He placed a kiss in the palm of your hand, where the scar from the knife attack was, pulled back and got rid of his own shirt.

It had always been obvious that Russell was a hairy man. It had been easy to tell from his arms and the little patch of hair that always peaked out of his shirts.

And to be honest it had been one of the many things why he was so attractive to you.

But his chest was something entirely different.