12. Cathy
12
CATHY
B efore I can ask him how he knows I’m a virgin, he’s cupping my face in his large hands, tilting my head up. “I know everything,” he says, reading my mind.
His thumbs stroke my cheeks, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Without warning, his mouth descends on mine, claiming my lips in a kiss that’s both brutal and tender.
His tongue demands entry, sliding against mine with possessive force. It’s a kiss that steals my breath, leaves me dizzy and desperate for more.
He breaks the kiss, leaving me gasping for air. "Spread your legs wide," he orders, his voice thick with desire.
I comply, feeling a surge of embarrassment as I do. His hand slides up my inner thigh, stopping just short of where I desperately need him. I bite my lip, fighting the urge to whimper.
"Tell me what you want," he commands, his voice a seductive purr.
I hesitate, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and arousal. What do I want? Everything about this situation is wrong, yet my body is betraying me, aching for his touch.
"I want you to touch me.”
He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through me. "Not good enough. Be specific."
I squeeze my eyes shut, my cheeks burning with humiliation. "I want you to touch me there," I whisper, pointing to the aching spot between my legs.
His fingers trace lines on my skin, teasing me mercilessly. "Where exactly? Show me."
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I reach down, tugging the folds apart to reveal the slick, throbbing pussy beneath. His eyes darken with satisfaction as he takes in the sight.
"Perfect," he murmurs, dipping one finger inside me.
I gasp, arching my back as his finger slides in and out, exploring the wetness that clings to them. He crooks his finger, pressing against a spot that makes my hips jerk involuntarily.
"Ah, so sensitive," he observes, his voice filled with a dangerous kind of wonder. "Tell me how it feels."
"It feels good," I breathe, unable to hide the truth. "Please, don’t stop."
He smirks, adding a second finger, stretching me further. "Beg for it, little girl. Beg me to make you come."
The command sends a shiver down my spine. "Please make me come," I plead, my voice breaking.
He grins, his fingers moving faster, hitting that sweet spot with precision. "That’s it. Let go for me."
I do, my body tensing as waves of pleasure begin to crest. Heat floods my veins, pooling low in my stomach as my orgasm builds. His thumb circles my clit, pushing me over the edge.
"Ah! Yes!" I cry out, my body convulsing around his fingers as I climax. Stars burst behind my eyes, and I’m lost in the blinding pleasure for what feels like an eternity.
When I finally come down from the high, I’m left panting, my body weak and shaky. He withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste the evidence of my arousal. His eyes gleam with dark satisfaction.
"Such a good girl," he praises, leaning in to kiss me again, this time with reverence.
He pulls away, his fingers ghosting over my now-tender nipples, making me moan softly.
His eyes lock onto mine, daring me to look away. "Are you ready for this?" he asks, his voice a deep growl as he positions himself above me.
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yes."
He lowers his hips, aligning himself with my entrance. I tense, my breath hitching as I feel the pressure of his rock hard cock against my virginity. He pauses, giving me a moment to adjust.
"Relax," he whispers, his hands cupping my face. "Let me in."
Slowly, ever so slowly, he begins to push inside me. I cry out at the initial pain, my nails digging into his shoulders. He kisses me then, swallowing my cries, soothing me with his touch. Inch by inch, he fills me, stretching me, until I feel complete.
"Ah… ah!" I gasp, my body shuddering around him.
"Shh," he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine. "Just a little more."
With one final thrust, he breaches my barrier, taking my virginity with a finality that leaves me breathless. We both pause, savoring the moment, before he begins to move, pulling out almost completely, then thrusting back in with agonizing slowness.
"Tell me how it feels," he demands, his voice rough.
"It hurts… but I like it," I confess, my voice trembling.
He grinds his hips against mine, hitting a new angle that makes my toes curl. "Good girl," he praises again, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now, tell me what you want."
I bite my lip, my mind clouded with sensation. "I want revenge," I murmur.
His eyes flare with lust. "And your wish will be granted."
The heavy warmth of his hands grips my hips, his fingers digging into my skin, sending jolts through my body. Each movement, each surge of his body against mine, leaves me breathless, clinging to him.
I moan, the sound escaping before I can stop it, and the way he reacts—a shiver running through him—only makes my pulse race faster. My body clenches around him, desperate, caught in this overwhelming need for release, every nerve on edge, alive.
The scent of his skin mixes with the traces of cologne, all of it blurring my thoughts, pulling me deeper. There’s nothing else now, only him, only this moment. I feel his breath against my ear, rough and heavy, his voice like gravel as he whispers, “Look at me.”
Slowly, I turn my head, meeting his gaze. Those piercing, intense eyes, filled with something dark and consuming, hold mine. I shiver, feeling both trapped and drawn in, as he studies me with an intensity that makes my skin burn.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his thumb brushing across my trembling lips, each word sinking in, claiming me. “Every inch of you, every cry, every scream. It’s all mine.”
I don’t want to let him see me break, don’t want him to see how much control he has, but my breath hitches, and I bite down on my lip, fighting against the tears that prickle at the corners of my eyes. He notices, of course, his gaze unrelenting, and somehow, it only seems to fuel his need, making him press deeper, driving me to the edge, making me his.
“Don’t you dare hide from me,” he murmurs, his voice a low, possessive whisper as he leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss that leaves me breathless, his mouth moving over mine with a fierce claim.
I taste him, feel him, all of him as he moves, as he takes every part of me. My hands find his shoulders, clinging, nails digging into him as I feel the tension coil tighter and tighter within me, overwhelming, impossible to hold back.
He quickens, each movement urgent, his strength overpowering, relentless. I feel my body respond, every nerve, every muscle tightening, my breaths coming in gasps as I lose myself completely in him.
My hand slides between us, finding my clit, easing the ache that demands my attention. And then, with a cry, I shatter, every sensation crashing over me, leaving me undone.
The sight of me falling apart beneath him, lost in the storm he’s created, seems to be his undoing. I watch as his face contorts, his jaw clenching, holding on for just a moment longer before he finally lets go, surrendering, pouring himself into me. His cock spurts, twitching, burying itself deep inside me.
My body relaxes into his, overwhelmed by the closeness, the rawness of what we’ve just shared.
For a moment, there’s only the sound of our breathing, raw and heavy, our bodies pressed together, the quiet aftermath settling over us like a heavy, comforting blanket. I feel his heartbeat against mine.
Eventually, he eases out, and I shiver as a warm mixture of him and me slips down my thighs, a reminder of everything he’s left with me, a part of him I can’t ignore.
He rolls to the side, but not far, pulling me close against his chest, his arm wrapping around me protectively. I bury my face in his shoulder, feeling the remnants of tension ebbing away, leaving me exhausted, my body still trembling.
Then he turns away, reaching for the light, and the room falls into darkness, softened only by the silver glow of the moon streaming through the window.
The shadows accentuate every line of his body, every muscle, the scars and tattoos evidence of the life he’s lived, a life I’m only beginning to understand.
My heart races, and though I want to look away, I can’t. I’m entranced by him, by the quiet command he holds, by the way he seems to own even the darkness around us.
I can feel the heat radiating from him, the weight of his arm settling around me, pulling me closer. I try to face away, to resist the pull of his touch, but he doesn’t allow it, his voice soft yet firm as he murmurs, “You can try to fight it, but we both know what you really want.”
The words ignite something deep within me, a truth I’ve been denying. And as he pulls me against him, I feel my own resolve begin to waver, my defenses slipping away, leaving me with nothing but the raw, undeniable connection that pulses between us.
The silence stretches, a taut line straining under the weight of something unspoken, and then his voice rumbles in the darkness, a low murmur, soft yet commanding, inches from my ear. “Do you really think you can resist me, Cathy?” His voice is velvet, dark and smooth, curling around me like a binding spell.
I swallow, willing myself to ignore the way his words make my heart hammer against my ribs. “I won’t give you the satisfaction,” I say, my voice a whisper that betrays my own uncertainty.
There’s a low, amused chuckle from him, a sound that sends a shiver down my spine. “You say that now,” he murmurs, his voice softer, almost intimate, as if he’s sharing a secret. “But I’ll wait, Cathy. I’m patient. And you will beg. You’ll want it, crave it, because deep down, you already know. You’re mine.”
I want to argue but I can’t say a word.
“Say my name,” he murmurs, his voice a quiet command, his gaze intense, his hand gentle as it explores, as it claims.
“Ivan,” I whisper, the word slipping from my lips, a surrender, a quiet acceptance that I can’t ignore.
He smiles, a dark, satisfied smile, and I know, in that moment, that I am his, that I’ve stepped fully into his world, that I’ve crossed a line I can never uncross.
“I hate you,” I whisper, and even I can hear the weakness in it.
His smile deepens, that dark satisfaction shining in his eyes as he meets my gaze. “I know,” he murmurs, his tone a quiet acceptance, a challenge, as though daring me to hold on to that hatred, to resist him when he knows I can’t.
The words hang in the air, a mix of playful and possessive, as he draws me in, each touch pushing me further past my own boundaries, my own defenses.
I close my eyes, exhaling slowly, feeling the remnants of my resolve slipping further away, replaced by the stark reality that I am here, with him, bound to him in ways I never intended.
I can’t pretend he forced me; I made the choice, willingly, and a small, rebellious part of me is glad that I did, as much as I hate to admit it. And that thought frightens me most of all.
The darkness feels alive, a weight pressing in on me as I lie still, eyes open, searching the shadows. The air is thick, and every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of movement somewhere beyond these walls, makes my heart race.
It’s as though the house itself watches, an ancient, silent sentinel, holding secrets in its walls, its corridors. The faint rustle of leaves outside mingles with the groans of old wood.
The oppressive quiet wraps around me, heightening the tension that still lingers in my muscles, keeping me on edge, alert. I try to tell myself it’s just an old house, that these sounds are harmless, ordinary. But in the stillness of the night, it feels anything but ordinary.
The house has its own presence, its own quiet power, like it’s testing me, reminding me that I’m far from my own world, surrounded by things and people I don’t fully understand.
I shift slightly, trying to ease the tightness in my chest, but every movement feels amplified, every breath a reminder of how alone I am in the depths of this place.
Then, without a word, Ivan’s arm slides around me, pulling me close. His warmth seeps into me, steady and sure. In that simple, wordless gesture, a wave of relief floods through me, melting the tension that’s held me captive.
Almost at once, my breathing slows, my heart finding a rhythm that matches his. The sounds of the house fade, the darkness receding, replaced by the quiet security of his hold.
The house, the questions, the fears—all dissolve as sleep claims me, pulling me into a deep, dreamless slumber, safe in the quiet strength of his embrace.