Chapter 17
We’re in the eye of a hurricane.
VALENTINA
Terror lances through me.
Ice-cold water fills my nose. I’m panicking, flailing, screaming. Fire and ice!—oh, God. Burning in my ass. Drowning and freezing my head. It feels like ice shards are slicing through my nose, my throat, my lungs!
I gag. I sputter. I choke.
And he’s right above me. Watching me. A sick and twisted grin on his face.
I can’t believe…he is…my—
No. That word is a lie. He doesn’t deserve it. He isn’t my husband. Not my partner.
Not my anything.
Just a monster wearing the beautiful, masculine face of a god.
Suddenly, the sling tips up, and air whooshes into my nose and mouth. I choke, coughing and sputtering out water. My whole body shakes and shivers from the cold shock. Hair soaked and plastered to my cheeks, dripping more ice down my body.
But I’m not in shock. I’m mad as hell. A blazing inferno ready to turn him to fucking ash! If my hands were free, I’d have clawed his pretty green eyes out already.
“There you are, maya Valya. Welcome back to the waking world.”
Grin fading to something paradoxically carnal and tender, Roman reaches for my cheek. I snarl, gnashing my teeth and shoving my face away from his hand.
Baring his teeth, he grips my neck and pulls my mouth to his. I bite his lips as hard as I can. He jerks back, taking his cock with him to slap against his thigh. I nearly slump from the relief in my ass.
Then, I look up. Good. I drew blood. He touches his lower lip, and his eyes narrow. At first, my blood freezes, waiting for his expression to turn violent. But it doesn’t. Instead, he smiles. A sinful, horrible smile of unfiltered male pride. Pride in me.
“Da. Oh, da, moy malen’kaya chertovka-koroleva,” he says, voice husky and deep.
“I don’t give a fuck what pretty words you just said, Makarova,” I warn, burning my eyes against his. “Stay the hell away from me, you abusive prick.”
He tilts his head. I really hate that amused smirk. The one that patronizes with its power.
“Intriguing. You wish I would leave you here, then?” He strokes his jaw, pacing before me, eyes roaming up and down.
“So pretty tied up in my sling. As much as I will enjoy the marks left on your flesh from my ropes, I’d rather they not chafe you beyond compare.
It would be a worse transgression. And I would not wish to leave my wife soaked in more ways than one. And unsatisfied.”
“I’m not soaked for you,” I hiss.
He advances, not losing that pretentious grin, and I buck, gasping when he palms my bare folds. One finger teases my sore entrance, confirming my traitorous flesh with exactly how soaked I am.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, my wife. I would be remiss in my duties as your husband if I did not provide for your sexual needs, Valentina. And…” He leans in, his breath brushing over my cheek like the promise of a storm. A tremor ripples through my body.
“…I do so hate to be remiss.”
His fingers drag languidly along my inner thigh.
“It would be a damn tragedy,” he purrs, “if the world were denied the sound of you coming apart under my hands.”
“Fuck you.”
He pauses, savoring my scowl. “Indeed. I vowed to fuck you all night long on this…our new wedding night.” His lips skim the shell of my ear. “I never break a vow. Not when it comes to you.”
I spit at him.
He doesn’t flinch. Just grins, slow, dark, and fucking delighted.
Horror curdles my blood as he rubs warming oil all over his dick, and I swallow hard. My ass is sore, and I can’t fathom how that thing will fit inside me. Horrid heat dares to swirl low in my belly.
There’s nothing I can do. He really knows how to immobilize me.
I’m still wet everywhere, still cold and shaking when the golden-haired devil closes the distance between us with that ruthless smile.
He wraps one hand around my waist, jerking me closer with a deep grunt that resonates in my chest. The swing shudders.
I snap my teeth at him.
“Hmm…do I need to fetch a ball gag for you, moyo malenkoye cudoviste? My little monster.” He winks.
I glare at him. “No.” At least not yet.
“Horosho devochka.”
Did he just say ‘good girl’ in Russian?
Roman presses his lips to my forehead. My breath flares through my nose at the too-tender touch.
“Look at me,” he commands, then nudges the tip of his shaft against my anus.
When I defy him, looking everywhere but at him, he grips my throat, sending a wave of heat through my pussy. Villainous vagina.
“Go to hell,” I spit again.
“You try my patience.”
“Fuck your patie—” My words turn to a wheeze, silenced by his grip.
He cocks his head as my cheeks pale and I struggle for air. But I don’t lose my glower. And I hate how good he is, how he knows just when to let go. I gasp and cough.
“No matter,” Roman says, lining himself up again. “I’ll have your eyes rolling to the back of your head soon enough.”
The wet crown slides back through my tight ring. I choke on a desperate, pained breath.
“Relax your muscles,” he purrs low in my ear. “Deep breaths, Valentina.”
I inhale and exhale slowly, deeply. Not because I want to obey him, but because I damn well know he’s done this many times. And doing anything my way will result in my ass hurting more.
He slides in another inch and another, and I whimper at the pressure searing the tight flesh. “Goddamn, Maya Valya, you feel glorious, fucking amazing.” He tips his head onto my shoulder and lightly kisses my pulse.
“Oh, trust me, amazing is the last thing I’m feeling.”
I try to focus on the physical sensations, the pain of his fullness inside me, and how every inch demands surrender. Not on that kiss. Not that position that reeks of raw intimacy I shouldn’t crave. How he can straddle the line of abuse and worship is beyond me. So beyond me.
Part of me aches to melt into it, to forget the walls I’ve slammed up.
He works himself deeper until he’s seated fully, thick and throbbing, buried to the hilt.
I choke, my heart thundering in my chest as he slaps the side of the tub—once, twice, again—fighting for control.
His muscles strain against me, every inch of him coiled.
A tremor shudders through him, his heart pounding against mine.
I hate this more. This brutal, maddening shred of vulnerability he lets me see.
Because it means he’s not a total monster. Oh, he’s still at least 99%. But that cursed one percent?
It’s the part that ruins me.
He raises his chin, and the vicious grin sends me right back to hating him. My ass squeezes uncontrollably, and he groans again, then starts to move.
Long, deep, and slow thrusts so I feel every inch of that monstrous cock. All the ridges, the silky hot skin, and I swear that dominant vein bulges through the organ.
I gasp as he hoists me higher in the swing, until the backs of my knees sit on his broad shoulders.
“Oh, God!” I shriek from the deeper position.
“Bloody Christ, you’re fucking unreal. Strangling my dick. And these gorgeous tits…”
Shifting his position, he lowers his head to close his mouth around my left nipple. Oh, God! Why are they more sensitive than ever? And redder? And more elongated?—oh, fuck. I glimpse the nipple suckers out of the corner of my eye.
My nerves are firing too much for me to think about it.
Rising from my breasts, Roman picks up his pace, rocking his hips and thrusting that cock stronger until the pressure is white hot, blinding, and searing.
“Eyes on me, wife,” he growls.
I gaze at him, his image blurry beneath the teary film before my eyes. But he’s no less beautiful. No less formidable. Locks of his golden hair flick my wet cheeks. His hooded eyes, the intimacy, are soul-leveling.
His muscles bulge the more he rocks into me, and I can’t help but stare at his flawless Adonis belt and beyond to his powerful thighs, giving him momentum to fuck me.
Sweat clings to us both. With the candlelight flickering and shadows dancing across his body, the fall of his long hair, and that radiant sheen covering him…
he looks almost unholy. Like a seraphim torn from the highest, most secret corners of heaven—too divine to touch, too damned to look away from.
His shaking body is evidence of how hard he’s working to control himself, to make this last.
How can I hate someone so much and yet be so hypnotized by him? So mind-blowingly attracted to him? Especially when he’s fucking my ass like this. And when he woke me the way he did…
But the pressure increases, spreading more molten heat through me, pulsating in my core the most.
Suddenly, he lets go of my nipple and kisses my cheek. “I will let that slight go, Valentina. I appreciate your eye-fucking of me.”
“I wasn’t—”
He kisses me. We both know I was eye-fucking him. I sob and whimper, the sounds blurring from how he enslaves me. Never stopping his thrusts, his cock seems to thicken with every moment.
He pauses, shaft freezing halfway in me. I don’t know what to do when he cups my cheeks and says, “Your moans are a musical, Valentina. Like fucking poetry. You are the fire of my damned soul. The gold filling the jagged cracks of my heart.”
Why?! Oh, God, why does he have to say things like that? “Let my arms go, please…” I plead, voice cracking.
Our eyes meet in a moment of clarity. Perfect, silent clarity. And he does. He unbinds my arms, and I heave a deep sigh at the freedom of my limbs, however worn they are. The first thing I do is find the strength to touch his chest.
“Ahh, fuck, da. Samotsvet of my corona.”
I know the word. The jewel of my crown.
Heat unfurls in waves, melting my bones, softening everything I am until there’s nothing left but glowing surrender.
He rocks his hips harder, relentless and beautiful, and I no longer just meet him—I receive him. I open, lifting my hips. My spine bows like a drawn bowstring. My hands slide from his shoulders to his neck, finally gripping the hard ridges of his back.
And when he drives into the ache, into the raw, overused place he’s claimed, I rake my nails down his skin. His grunt rumbles against my throat—low, feral, mine. He loves the sting as much as I love giving it.
The pressure swells.
It bursts.
And I splinter around him—body seized, vision gone white, as shafts of molten sunlight lance through me, branding every inch of me with this unbearable, exquisite bliss.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can only feel.
We’re in the eye of a hurricane. Lost in each other. He holds me here as I shatter.
And gods help me, I love it. I love how undone he makes me. How I come apart. A little, hot geyser erupts from me, and I throw my head back from the mad urge.
“Fuck, Valya!” he exclaims, shoving one hand between us and catching the stream. Because I just…squirted.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I throw my head forward and sink my teeth into the thick muscle of his neck, biting down so hard, I taste copper. Marking him. Owning him.
He breaks with a snarl, hips jerking wildly as he slams deep, sinking a flood of his release in me. My insides clench around him, milking him.
He collapses again. Face in my neck, inhaling me, kissing me there, and shuddering until he finally comes out. I lurch from the organ, leaving my ass, stretching me more on the way out.
And I hate to admit it.
He did have my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
“You think I’m done with you, Valentina?
” His voice is low and dark, and it sends my heart ricocheting in my chest. “We still have two hours before dawn. And as much as you loved, hated, and came apart with my cock buried in your ass…now, I’m going to take you slow.
Gentle. But deeper than you’ve ever felt.
And you’ll crave every fucking second of it. ”