Chapter 55 Rae
RAE
GOOGLE TRANSLATE HISTORY
User Device: Rae Everett's iPhone
Russian → English:
"Ya tvoya" → "I'm yours"
"Moya devochka" → "My girl"
"Krasivaya" → "Beautiful"
"Nikogda ne otpushchu" → "I'll never let you go"
I’m a virgin one minute.
I’m his the next.
Rarely in this life do we get to feel one chapter end and a new one begin so definitively. But in this case, it really is that simple.
The pain is still there, but as the seconds pass and Lukas stays seated inside me, giving me time to adjust, something new starts to rise up to join it.
A rightness.
The good girl is gone. I’m not sure I want her back.
Not when Lukas looks at the bad girl like this.
He releases my face to thread his fingers through mine and plaster our joined hands to the mattress on either side of my head. “You’re bleeding on my cock,” he tells me. “Do you know how fucking beautiful that is? How perfect you are?”
He rocks backward and forward experimentally and I gasp.
“That’s it. Yes. Yes.” His forehead drops to mine. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
He begins to move in shallow thrusts, letting my body adjust, whispering praise and filth in alternating waves. How tight I am. How brave. How I’m taking him so well. How he’s ruining me for every other man who will ever exist, and how beautiful it is to witness.
The pain keeps fading and the pleasure keeps growing. When I’m finally bold enough to arch up beneath him for more, he gives a dark laugh of satisfaction.
“My good girl,” he growls. “My perfect girl. Tell me how it feels.”
I can barely form words, but I manage to gasp out, “Full. So full. I can feel you everywhere.”
His answering groan is pure masculine satisfaction. “Good.” His hips drive deeper. “Now, tell me who you belong to.”
I want to answer, but for some reason, I hesitate. I wish I knew why, but I don’t.
But the hesitation costs me, because it makes Lukas stop. He withdraws almost completely and hovers there, just the tip of him still inside me.
“Say it,” he demands. “Tell me who owns this body now.”
The emptiness is unbearable. I’m clenching around nothing, longing for him to fill me again. In the end, I was always going to crumble.
“You. I belong to you, Lukas.”
With a satisfied smirk, he slams back inside me so hard that the bed frame wheezes in protest. I cry out, but he kisses it away. It’s dizzying, the whiplash between brutal and gentle. I’m drowning in both, unsure which I want more.
He releases one of my hands to slide between our bodies. His fingers find where we’re joined, slick with blood and arousal, and my hips jerk involuntarily.
“I’m going to make you cum on my cock,” he vows. “You need to see just how much you’re capable of.”
He starts stroking again. He adjusts the angle of his hips with each thrust, searching, experimenting, and when he finds the speed and depth that makes me stutter, his smile is feral.
“There we go.”
I start to get scared of what awaits me. Lukas is sliding in and out of me, splitting me open again and again. My thighs are screaming with how wide they’re spread for him. It’s all so new and overwhelming that my mind doesn’t know where to focus.
It wants to memorize every fine-grained detail of this moment—the sweetness of his breath and the tang of his sweat; the solidity of his muscles and the softness of his beard when he kisses me.
To be held by him and fucked by him, cradled and kissed—I’ve spent weeks dreaming of exactly this, but now that it’s here, it’s too much.
I’m sobbing. All I can do is cling to his shoulders and yield to him.
“I can feel your heartbeat around my cock,” Lukas snarls in amazement. “You’re so close, sweetheart. Let go. I want to feel your virgin cunt cum with me inside you.”
I never knew I wanted all this until the whole idea of “my” desires was taken away. It’s like my body and mind have spoken two different languages for my entire life, and Lukas is the first person who’s fluent in both.
He knows me. Feels me. Gets me. Keeps me. His filthy words are like being fucked verbally at the same time as he’s fucking me physically. When I’m cradled and cared for in every way, how could I not release? How could I not cum right when he tells me to?
Sure enough, all it takes is one “You’re right there, sweetheart; let go—” and then it hits.
I scream again. My throat is painful from holding it back, but there’s no keeping this one buried. My nails carve fresh ribbons out of his shoulders and neck as I hold on and implode like a dying star.
It’s a surging, burbling heat, concentrated in the dead center of my hips and spreading out to touch every single cell that makes up Rae Everett. All of them are singing, humming, vibrating, ecstatic.
I’m not in control of anything anymore—not my words or my limbs, not my submission or my future. Lukas has it all, and I’ve given it to him gladly, because I’ve realized one thing above all else:
I can trust him.
I’m safe in his arms. Ruined for other men, yes, and wrecked for a normal life, yes—but as long as he says he’s got me, I believe him.
I cum so hard and for so long that it’s almost like tuning the dial on the radio to a different station.
I blink out of the conscious world. I’m aware only of how good it all feels, this blissful warm bath of contraction and release ribboning throughout my body, the crackling static of bottomless sensation. It goes and goes and goes.
It takes a long, long time before the dial eases back to reality.
When it does, I realize Lukas is kissing every part of me. He’s still inside me and harder than ever, but he’s easing off the intensity to check in on me. His beard scratches the underside of my breasts and the curves of my ribs. He kisses my toes and my fingers, my neck, my cheeks.
He’s talking, too, a steady stream of praise and encouragement. “You did so fucking good, sweetheart. You’re so perfect for me. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
We lie like that for a long time; I’m not even sure how long. Limbs braided, breath in sync, still nestled together in the most intimate way two people can be connected.
They never told me this in middle school sex ed, that a man can be hard inside you and not be selfishly focused on getting his own rocks off. The way I was taught, you’d think that every human male alive cares about one thing and one thing only when it comes to the birds and the bees: himself.
But not Lukas. I don’t know if it’s superhuman self-control, or his age and experience, or something that’s unique to him and him alone, but he fully commits to the pause.
Somehow, he knows I need it. A girl can only take so much at once.
Sometimes, on the climb up the mountain, you have to stop and enjoy the view.
He keeps kissing me as I fully tune back into my body. I’m languid and loose-limbed. But little by little, I start to move my hips again. Tentatively at first, just shy little grinds, but each one feels so good that the one after it is a little more enthusiastic.
And a little more.
And a little more.
Until…
“We don’t have to,” he says in my ear. “You’ve been through so much already today.”
I bite my lip, then say the only thing worth saying. “I know I don’t have to. But…” I turn to face him. “Lukas, I want you.” A sudden thought strikes me and I rear my head back nervously. “Unless you don’t want to…?”
In response, he laughs right in my face.
I’m hurt for a second until he bucks his hips no more than an inch, and yet it knocks the breath right out of my lungs.
I feel like he’s poking me in the throat.
“Do you not feel how fucking hard I am, Rae? Pulling out of you right now would be the most impossible thing I’ve ever done.
I want to fuck you for the rest of my life, never stopping. But I’d stop for you. For you.”
I’m speechless. Is it possible for a girl to melt and re-form this many times in one sexual experience? Is it medically advisable?!
I don’t know and I never want to find out.
All I know is this: “I don’t want you to stop, either.” I grab his face and pull him down in our sloppiest kiss to date. “Never. Never, never, never.”
He sighs into my open mouth. “You’re going to fucking destroy me, sweetheart.” He kisses me, achingly tender, stroking my hair while he remains buried deep. “I don’t deserve this. You’re not meant for a washed-up old bastard like me.”
I could argue, but one look in his eyes says he’d never believe me. He truly thinks he’s beyond redemption. But I know better.
So, even if I don’t say that part out loud, I do say the thing that will get us both what we want.
“Since when have you ever cared about what you deserve, hm?” I ask him, half-serious and half-teasing. “You’ve never stopped to ask permission, so don’t stop now. Do you want me, Lukas?”
He nods, face solemn. “More than life itself, Rae.”
I nod back. “Good. Then be selfish and fucking take me.”
Those are the magic words. After one more shuddering inhale, all remaining traces of the gentleman in Lukas disappear…
… and the beast takes over.
He pulls out of me without warning. I whine at the sudden emptiness. But before I can even voice my complaint, his hands are on my hips, rag-dolling me over onto my hands and knees.
I have just enough time to brace my hands against the mattress before he’s ramming into me again from behind.
Oh, God.
The new angle is… It’s…
I cry out, fingers twisting in the dusty sheets. But from this position, there’s nothing I can do but take it. Take him, every devastating inch, buried so far inside me that the boundaries between us are no longer relevant.
My cheeks heat at the vulnerability of it. On all fours, completely at his mercy. I’ve never felt more exposed in my life.
Correction: Lukas gathers my hair in his fist, bends me up toward him, pinches my nipple, and tweaks my clit in a way that makes me moan as loud as I possibly can…
Then I feel more exposed than ever.