Chapter 86 Octavia
Octavia
Unwanted hands run over my body.
I jolt awake with a strained breath, sitting upright in bed, my heart racing, my skin tight and overheated. The room swims back into focus slowly.
Markev stirs instantly.
He pushes up onto one elbow, his eyes already on me, full of concern.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
His eyes narrow. “Nothing,” he repeats, unimpressed.
I turn my face away, but he doesn’t allow it. His hand comes up to my jaw, gentle, guiding my face back to his.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“It was just a nightmare,” I say, the words clipped. “I’m fine.”
He studies me for a long moment, as though deciding whether to press further. He doesn’t, but he doesn’t believe me either. I can see it in the set of his mouth, the appraisal behind his eyes.
I don’t know what comes over me, but it’s becoming a habit.
Before I can second guess it, I close the space between us and kiss him.
He freezes for the briefest second… then his hesitation snaps. His mouth opens beneath mine and he takes control of the kiss, pulling me in, his tongue demanding entry.
The echo of the nightmare still crawls beneath my skin, but his touch breaks through it, dulling the edges.
I hate how much I need that. I hate that after dreaming of hands I didn’t want, the only thing I crave now is his.
How fucked up is that?
But I don’t question it.
For once, I don’t analyse or resist. I let it happen. I go with the flow.
I need to feel something, and with him, I do.
I actually feel safe, for the first time in years.
And what a cruel world it is, that the first man I feel safe with is him.
A Markev.
The kiss deepens and I lose myself in it, pushing every thought aside.
He breaks it only to trail his mouth down the column of my neck, his hands cupping my breasts through the thin camisole.
He pulls it over my head, groaning softly at the sight of my bare chest.
“Fucking hell.”
His mouth goes straight to my nipple, sucking, then biting, and I arch instinctively, my fingers curling into his hair as I hold him there.
Still sucking at my nipple, he tugs my shorts down, then my panties, pushing them off my legs.
“Tell me you want this,” he grumbles. “Tell me you’re finally ready to be mine.”
“Yes,” I pant. I know his words carry more weight than he’s admitting, but I don’t let myself think about it.
“Yes, what?” He bites my nipple, and a sound escapes me.
“I want you,” I say, breathless. “All of you.”
He lifts his head and looks at me, a slow smirk playing at his mouth.
“I want to do so much to you,” he grits out. “But for the first time,” he says, “I’ll be gentle.”
He holds my eyes as I nod.
His smirk turns devilish. “I’ll learn to be gentle with you,” he tells me, “but I also know that isn’t all you need. What you need is—” He nips at my neck. “You need to feel.”
“But that’s the thing about my obsession,” he continues, his mouth trailing over my skin as his hands explore me. “I know you better than you know yourself. I’ll always give you what you need, before you even have to ask.”
I close the distance and kiss him again.
I deepen the kiss because I need it.
I need him.
I need the memories in my head to fade into something else entirely.
He pushes me lightly, and I fall back onto the bed, my hair splayed across the pillow. He stays on his knees, looking down at me.
He spreads my legs, grips my thighs, and pulls me closer before burying his head between them.
It doesn’t take long. His mouth stays on my clit, sucking and licking, and then he slides two fingers inside me, curling and driving them in until the pressure tips me over. The orgasm hits me hard, a moan slips from me as I come on his face.
I fist my hands in his hair, panting, riding it out against his mouth, using his face shamelessly until it fades.
When I finally let him go, he lifts his head, looking at me as he licks his lips.
“Fucking delicious,” he says.
He withdraws his fingers slowly and brings them to my mouth.
“Open,” he grunts, his eyes volatile.
I do, watching him as I part my lips. He pushes his fingers inside, and I lick them obediently. Then he presses them in deeper, so sudden that I gag.
He only smirks.
He pulls his fingers from my mouth and brings them back between my legs, circling my clit slowly. My body tightens with need.
I close my eyes. “Fuck… I need you.”
He comes down over me, claiming my mouth in a kiss. I taste myself on his tongue, and it only makes the ache worse.
His hands move everywhere, until they suddenly still at the inside of my thighs.
Where the cuts are.
Fuck.
It’s always dark when we’re together, but I think he noticed them the first time anyway. Because every time after that, he stops short at my thighs, his jaw tightens, something dangerous crosses his face.
“We’re going to talk about this later,” he grunts. “But if you ever hurt yourself again, I swear I’ll kill you.”
I smile.
“Don’t,” he says. “I’m serious. Do. Not. Ever. Hurt what’s mine again. I mean it.”
“Fine,” I say. “Now kiss me.”
He studies me for a moment longer, then does as I ask.
My hands slide over his back, my nails dragging, leaving marks behind. I toy with the waistband of his boxers, trying to push them down.
It takes a moment of clumsy fumbling.
He laughs. “Eager, are we?”
He helps me anyway, shoving them off.
My mouth falls open before I can stop it. His cock is huge, thick and veined.
“No,” I say flatly. “Absolutely not. That’s not going to fit. What are you, eight inches?”
He smirks, proud. “Actually, nine.”
I shake my head as he laughs. “No. Just no. You’re going to break me.”
“That’s the point.” He winks. “I want you to feel me inside you for days.”
He bites the place between my neck and shoulder, and I moan, my eyes slip shut at the sensation.
His bare cock is so close to my entrance that I can’t stop myself. I start rubbing my clit against him.
“Fuck,” he groans.
He kisses me as I keep up the maddening friction.
“Please.”
He smiles slowly. “I love it when you beg,” he says. “Please what?”
“I need all of you,” I gasp. “I feel like I’m going to explode.”
He nudges my entrance with the head of his cock, teasing. “Are you sure?” he growls. “If it becomes too much, you tell me and I stop.”
“I’m sure,” I pant, my hands tangled in his hair as he keeps pressing, making me ache.
He pushes into me slowly. The stretch burns immediately, the intensity sudden and overwhelming.
He stops. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Just keep going.”
“Octavia, if I’m hurting you—” He starts to pull back.
“No.” I hook my legs around him, holding him there. “I want this,” I say, and I mean it.
He studies my face, searching, then leans down to kiss me as he eases a little more of himself inside.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts.
He suddenly freezes, his eyes flick to my face. “Are you…?” The question trails off.
“I’ve never done this before,” I say, answering what he can’t bring himself to ask. “Not like this.” A tear falls free before I can stop it, and I wipe it away quickly.
A storm of emotion crosses his face… anger, hurt, understanding settling in, and beneath it all a fury so deep it looks ready to destroy everything in its path.
“Me neither,” he says at last.
The words stun me, but he doesn’t give me time to dwell on them. He closes the distance again, kissing me as he pushes forward once more, filling me completely.
We keep kissing as he starts to move, his thrusts slow. There are tears on our cheeks now, and I can’t tell where mine end and his begin.
“Does it hurt?” he asks. “Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop.”
“Don’t you dare stop,” I snap.
A deep laugh rumbles from him, stripped of humour.
He moves slowly, easing in, then drawing back, his rhythm steady. The pain gradually dulls, replaced by a different sensation, one that starts to feel better with every thrust.
His pace quickens, and I clench around him. One hand slides to my throat, squeezing lightly, while his tongue claims my mouth. His other hand slips between my legs, pinching my clit, sending me over the edge.
“Come for me,” he growls, his thrusts turning erratic. “Come all over my cock. Let me have it all.”
I tighten around him and let go, the consuming orgasm washes over me.
He follows a moment later, only a few more thrusts before he empties himself inside me with a groan.
“Fucking hell, gorgeous.”
We stay like that for a while, him pressed over me, both of us breathless.
He eventually pulls back slowly, watching as he withdraws, his expression dark and possessive.
Suddenly, he drives back in one last time, and a moan slips from me.
“I’d fuck you again right the fuck now,” he says roughly. “But I know you must be hurting.”
He pulls out fully this time, leans down to kiss me again, then gets up from the bed.
“I’ll run a bath,” he says, heading off with a satisfied smile on his face… one I can’t help but return.
It doesn’t take long before he comes back. He lifts me easily, bridal style, and carries me to the bathroom.
“I can walk,” I say.
He grunts but doesn’t answer, doesn’t put me down either.
He lowers me into the bath instead, then settles in behind me so I’m resting against his chest.
I feel his cock twitch against my back as his hands drift to my nipples.
“Ready for round two already?” I laugh.
“I was ready the second I came inside your tight pussy.”
“Insatiable.”
“For you,” he says. “Absolutely.”
“We never talked about protection,” I start.
He freezes.
Then he exhales. “You know I’d never put you at risk. And you know I haven’t…” He swallows. “I haven’t done this before.”
I glance back at him. “You mean never had sex? Like… you’re a virgin?”
A smile crosses his face again, not fake, but tight. “Are you?”
“It’s complicated,” I say instead.
“That makes two of us.”
We stay like that until the water begins to cool. When he finally speaks, his voice is gravelled.
“You know we’ll eventually have to talk about this.”
“I know,” I whisper.
It’s a lie.
Because no, we don’t have to talk about it. What we have now has to stay physical.
Just sex.
It can’t become more.
We can’t become more.
But I don’t say that. First, because I know he wouldn’t agree. And second, because I’m not sure I would either.
But this is how it’s supposed to be.
Tainted, ruined people don’t get a happily ever after.