Chapter 8 Lina
— · —
Lina
The kiss deepened as I rocked in his lap, both of us groaning when my soaked jeans dragged over the hard length pressing against me.
He was huge. I could feel it, every inch of him straining through his jeans, hot and twitching under me, throbbing against my cunt like it had been aching for me for hours.
My torn shirt gave up the fight when his hands slid under it, fingers gripping my waist like he needed to hold on to something or lose his mind.
The fabric ripped down the side, but I barely noticed.
All I could think about was his mouth, his tongue, how he tasted like sin and violence and heat, like a man who’d burned through a hundred battles and still dropped to his knees just to kiss me like I was worth bleeding for.
He broke the kiss with a growl, pulling back like it physically hurt him to stop. I whimpered, chasing his mouth.
“You’re hurt,” he muttered, voice rough with need and concern. His gaze dropped to my arms, brushing over the scrapes from the alley concrete like they were mortal wounds. “Your skin’s all torn up.”
“I’m fine,” I protested, trying to pull him back for another kiss. “They’re just scratches.”
But he was already shifting me off his lap, ignoring my sound of protest. Before I could complain properly, he was retrieving the first aid kit I’d abandoned, his focus now entirely on my minor injuries while his own body bore much worse damage.
“Matthias, seriously, I’m-”
“Let me,” he cut in, and his voice… it wasn’t soft. It was a vow. “Let me take care of you.”
I should have laughed. He was covered in blood. He’d broken into my apartment. But he knelt between my thighs and cleaned every cut like it mattered. Like I mattered and nothing else in the world did. The heat between us hadn’t gone anywhere, it just simmered now, slow and intense.
“There,” he murmured when he finished, pressing a kiss to a bandaged scrape on my forearm. A kiss that I felt everywhere. “Better?”
“I was fine,” I said weakly, but we both knew I just wanted his hands back on me.
He framed my face with both hands, thumbs stroking my cheeks as he studied me with those intense gray eyes. “Let me take care of you, Lina. All of you.”
The way he said it made my whole body tense. Not from fear but from need. From the weight of how badly I wanted to say yes.
This time when he kissed me, it wasn’t frantic.
It was slow, thorough, like he wanted to memorize the shape of my lips.
One hand slid down, finding the bare skin beneath what was left of my shirt, and his fingers traced a path under the waistband of my jeans, stroking over the dip of my stomach until I shuddered.
“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he breathed against my mouth, then kissed down my neck with a pace that made me writhe. “I’ve been dreaming about this. Dreaming about how you’d sound when I had you under me.”
When his tongue dragged across my collarbone, I made a noise I’d never made before.
“Fuck - where did you learn to-” My head fell back. “God, right there.”
He laughed against my skin, the vibration making me clutch at his shoulders.
My shirt and bra were gone in seconds. I barely noticed when he tore them, just felt the heat of his mouth on my chest, sucking one nipple into his mouth while he palmed the other breast with reverence.
He bit down just enough to make me cry out.
“I need more,” I gasped, grinding down against his thigh, desperate for friction.
“You’ll get more,” he said, dragging his teeth over the curve of my breast. “You’ll get all of it.”
His hand dipped between my legs, fingers pressing hard against the soaked fabric of my jeans, right over my clit. I jerked, panting, as he realized how wet I really was. The sound he made was pure satisfaction.
“All this for me?” he asked, his voice shaking from how hard he was breathing.
“Shut up,” I managed, but it came out breathless and needy.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, love. You made me like this.” He reached down and grabbed my hand, pressing it over his cock. “Feel that? That’s what you do to me, Lina. You’ve got me so fucking hard I’m going insane.”
I moaned when I felt it. The thick length of him pulsing beneath the denim, twitching against my palm like it wanted inside me already.
“Shit…”
He kissed me again, filthy and deep, tongue thrusting into my mouth like he was already imagining what he’d do when he got between my thighs. His fingers worked open the fly of my jeans, dragging the ruined fabric down until I was bare beneath him. He stared like he was starving.
“Fucking perfect,” he breathed, brushing his knuckles between my folds, then groaning at the sight of what he had already touched before. “You’re dripping down your thighs, baby. You’ve been needing this, haven’t you?”
I nodded, and he pushed one finger inside, then two, working me open slowly, watching my face like he needed to see everything I felt.
When I whimpered, he added a third finger and curled them just right. My whole body seized.
“Fuck, look at you. Already clenching. You’re gonna be so tight when I slide inside you.”
My hips moved on their own, chasing every thrust of his hand. His mouth moved to my neck again, sucking dark marks into my skin while he pushed me closer and closer.
“Tell me you want it,” he rasped. “Tell me who you want inside you.”
“You,” I gasped. “Please, I need-”
“I know what you need,” he kissed me hard, fingers still working inside me as he growled against my mouth.
When I shattered around him, it was like being set on fire from the inside out. I clenched around his fingers, crying out, his name the only thing I could remember.
Before I could catch my breath, he scooped me into his arms. His strength should have been concerning given his injuries, but I was too far gone to care.
“Bedroom?” he asked, already halfway to the hall, his cock grinding against my thigh with every step. He was still hard. So hard.
I pointed down the hall, wrapping myself around him as he carried me. My lips found his throat, and I felt his groan rumble through his chest as I sucked at his pulse point.
He laid me on my bed with surprising gentleness, then stood back to look at me. The hunger in his eyes made me squirm.
“Matthias,” I started, suddenly nervous. “I should tell you... I’ve never done this before.”
He went completely still. “Never?”
The word came out strangled, and I could see him fighting for control. His hands clenched at his sides, muscles taut with tension.
“Never,” I confirmed, feeling vulnerable despite our intimate position. Was that weird? Was he going to think I was some kind of freak for being a twenty-three-year-old virgin? “Is that... is that okay?”
His jaw flexed so hard I thought it might break. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and buried his face against my neck, breathing hard. “Fuck, Lina. You’re going to be the death of me.”
For a moment I thought he might pull away, might decide this was too much responsibility or whatever. But then his hands were cradling my face with infinite tenderness.
“We don’t have to…”
“I want to,” I interrupted, needing him to understand. “With you. I want it to be you.”
Raw possession flashed in his eyes before he kissed me deeply. “I’ll make it good for you,” he promised against my lips. “So fucking good. Trust me?”
“I trust you.”
And I did, completely, which should probably have terrified me but didn’t. This man who’d broken into my apartment, who had wounds from fighting mythical beasts, who made me feel things I’d never felt before. I trusted him with this. With me.
He took his time. He kissed me deep, filthy, whispering things against my lips that should have embarrassed me, praise so intense it burned, but instead just made my thighs fall wider open for him.
His fingers worked between my legs, parting me with maddening patience, every stroke deliberately controlled.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, pressing again one thick finger inside me, easing it in inch by inch like he was savoring it. “Goddamn, baby. Your little pussy’s gripping me already.”
I whined, rolling my hips into his hand, needing more, more, more.
He curled his finger and I arched off the bed, a broken cry tumbling from my mouth.
“Please,” I gasped, already shaking. “I’m ready, I need-”
“Shh,” he soothed, voice gone rough and sweet at the same time.
He pushed in another finger, stretching me further and making me see stars.
“Let me take care of you. Let me make this perfect. I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, you hear me?
I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll forget anyone ever existed before me. ”
The sound he made was pure possessive satisfaction. The sound of a man completely unhinged by what he owned. Like the words alone had snapped something inside him loose.
“You don’t even know what that does to me,” he muttered, dragging his mouth down my body, pressing hot kisses to my stomach, my hips, between my thighs. “Fuck, Lina. I’ve never wanted anything like this. Never needed anyone like this.”
By the time he moved over me, his fingers had left me open and pulsing, trembling for him. I watched as he positioned himself, thick and hard and leaking, the tip of his cock dragging over my entrance like he was teasing both of us.
Even then, with all that desire in his eyes, he paused. Just enough to check.
“You’re sure?” he asked, and I could see what the restraint was costing him in the tension of his jaw, the way his hands shook slightly.
“If you stop now, I might actually die,” I threatened, making him huff a laugh.
“Can’t have that,” he murmured, and then he was pushing inside me inch by inch, until I felt every bit of him seated so far inside it knocked the air from my lungs.