Chapter 37 #2
He rolls his hips into me, and somehow he’s already getting hard again, his semi-erection working against my clit until my need rises again.
“How are you already…” I drag my teeth over my bottom lip.
He lets out a chuckle. “Hard?” His thumb drifts across my lips, his gaze following the movement. “You’re naked and touching me. That’s how.”
“Oh, God,” I gasp when he deepens his strokes, the sensation stealing the air from my lungs.
His mouth comes down on mine, kissing me with an unhurried intensity, drawing it out as though he plans to savor every second of it.
His tongue slides against mine as I kiss him back, doing my best to keep up, hoping he can’t tell how little experience I actually have.
I try to act like I know what I’m doing, like I’m not some hopeless twentysomething who should probably be better at this by now.
But he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, the opposite happens. The kiss deepens, his mouth moving over mine with more hunger before his lips drift lower, brushing along my neck as his tongue grazes the sensitive pulse beneath my skin.
His eyes land back on mine as he rises to full height and drags my hips closer until my ass is hanging off the bench.
Throwing both legs over his shoulders, he starts to ease inside me inch by inch, stretching me, fitting just right.
When he edges in another inch, my eyes roll back, and that’s when it hits me.
He isn’t wearing a condom.
What the hell have I just done? I mean, I’ve been on the pill for years, but still…
“Wait.”
His brows draw instantly. “What’s wrong?”
“Shouldn’t you be wearing a condom?”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “There are a lot of things I should be doing.” He presses in another inch.
“But when it comes to you, I tend to make all the wrong decisions.” He thrust even deeper.
“If you’re worried, I haven’t been with another woman in over a year.
And the idea of you being pregnant…” His mouth curves faintly.
“That doesn’t scare me nearly as much as it probably should. ”
Before I can even process what he just said, he drives into me hard enough to freeze the air in my lungs.
“Oh God,” I whimper, my eyes falling shut as the force of it sweeps through me, so overwhelming and so right that I can barely hold on to a single thought.
Even the idea of having his baby doesn’t seem frightening in this moment, only dangerously tempting. I can’t tell whether it’s the lust talking or some irrational part of me that already feels tied to him in ways I don’t fully understand.
“Umnichka.” He pounds into me without mercy. “Take it all.”
My mouth falls open, a cry catching in my throat as he takes me with a relentless rhythm, driving his hips forward while my body tightens helplessly around him. His hand slips between us as he rubs my clit, sending another rush of sensation through me while he whispers dirty words against my ear.
“That’s my good girl. Come on my dick. Make a mess.”
The pressure builds until it consumes me completely, until it’s almost too much to bear. His other hand curls around my throat, tightening as he drives into me with a punishing intensity, his body hungry for mine, heat burning in every look he gives me.
He moves like he understands my body instinctively, like he knows exactly what I need before I do. And the harder he thrusts, the louder my cries become, spilling out of me without restraint.
“Kirill…”
My toes curl as the pressure builds higher, and when he rolls my clit just right, the orgasm crashes through me all at once. My eyes snap shut, my body clinging to him as the rush rolls through me, leaving me shuddering and breathless.
Instead of stopping, his rhythm grows stronger, fingers still rubbing me until the sensation becomes almost overwhelming again.
“Give me one more. I want to watch you squirt again.”
“What? I-I did that?”
He chuckles. “And you’ll do it again. Now show me what else I can make you do.”
The feeling of him, all thick and hard, makes my head spin, the heat between us pulling me deeper the longer his gaze holds mine. Every second draws me further in—into this moment, into him, into the dangerous thought that I could want everything with this man.
It’s more than I ever imagined it would be. And right now, I’d confess every one of my sins if it meant I could keep him.
He lifts my foot and presses a kiss to it, drawing my toes into his mouth while he keeps working me until the need builds all over again.
The deeper he slams inside me, the harder it becomes not to lose myself completely. His body lowers over mine as his movements grow rougher, more insistent, his mouth crashing into mine in a fevered kiss that sends heat racing through every part of me.
Another release crashes over me and I cry out, desperate for it all.
He follows right after with a grunt, his body tightening as he comes inside me.
And the warmth of his release, the way our bodies give in at the same time, feels like more than just sex.
It’s something addictive, something I already know I won’t want to walk away from.
As the rush slowly fades, he lowers my legs and presses a kiss to the tip of my nose, then my forehead, my cheek, and finally my lips.
“I want you in my bed from now on.” He braces one arm against the barbell above us. “I don’t want to wake up without you.”
The words send a rush of emotion through me, and I nod, my hands moving over his back as I remember the scars etched across his skin. The thought settles heavily in my mind, making me wonder who could have done that to him…and how badly I’d like to hurt them for it.
His muscles go still beneath my touch, and he rests his cheek against my chest before pressing a slow kiss at the center of it.
“That was a long time ago. Don’t worry about me.”
“Who did that to you?”
A laugh leaves him, but it’s not amused. It’s rough and hollow, and I hate that he’s hurting.
“If I told you, you might not believe me.”
“I’d believe anything you told me.” I cradle his face in my palm when he looks down at me.
He sucks in a sharp inhale, holding it before letting it go.
“My father,” he says at last. “He was…a sick man.”
I try not to let my reaction show, but the words still land hard. A piece of my heart breaks for him anyway. I know what it means to be shaped by cruel parents, and I hate that he knows that kind of pain too.
“He used to make my brothers and me play these games,” he explains. “Games that involved torture. And if we failed…” His gaze goes distant, like part of him is back there again. “He’d beat us, starve us, lock us in dark rooms with nothing but the clothes on our backs.”
Tears sting my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugs too casually for what he just described. “He’s rotting now, exactly where he belongs.”
“What did he do to you?” My fingertips trace the raised lines on his back, one after another, as if I can reach back through time and take that pain from him.
“He favored a whip. These scars…they’re all from different times.” His mouth twists faintly. “There was one night he made me fight Konstantin. I lost.” A short, humorless snicker slips out of him. “Back then, I usually did. These days…it’s a different story.”
But I’m not laughing. I sit up and wrap my arms around him as he settles in front of me.
“That’s all right. At least it taught me what kind of father I’ll never become.”
I picture a younger version of him—small, desperate for even a scrap of his father’s love and getting nothing but a monster in return.
His thumb brushes away a tear that escapes down my cheek. “Don’t cry for me, malyshka.” His voice softens. “I’m okay. I promise.” Then his eyes narrow slightly. “The question is…are you?”
A jolt runs through me. Why would he ask me that?
“Yeah,” I say too quickly. “I’m—I’m good.”
The lie sounds smooth enough that it almost convinces me too.
“Are you sure?”
My stomach drops.
God, I’m awful. I don’t deserve him.
“Yeah.” I manage a small smile and slide my hand around the back of his thick neck. “I’m okay. I’m happy here. With you.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he studies my face so carefully it sends nerves skittering down my spine.
Finally he nods. “That’s good.” He lifts my hand and presses a kiss to my palm. “Now, how about we take a shower and then go to bed so we can actually sleep tonight?”
His crooked grin pulls a laugh out of me. “That sounds nice.”
The shower is only a few steps away. He carries me there, setting me down beneath the spray as the hot water runs over our bodies.
A moment later, he squeezes shampoo into his palm and turns me around, his fingers working slowly into my hair while his body presses warm and solid against my back.
Every inch of him surrounds me, and I let myself sink into it.
Into him. Into the way he makes everything inside my head finally go quiet.
For the first time in a long time, my thoughts stop racing. And when he leans down and kisses me again—slow this time, deeper, gentler—one quiet thought slips through the silence.
How long before he finds out everything I’m hiding…
And hates me for it?