Chapter 17 #2
He pulls back, chin slick, eyes dark with hunger. “Ready for round two?”
I nod frantically, beyond words.
He slicks himself up again and lines up at my entrance. I’m already open, already wet from his tongue and the mess we made, and when he pushes in this time, it’s easier. Still a stretch, still overwhelming, but my body takes him readily.
“Fuck, you’re still so tight,” he groans, bottoming out in one smooth thrust.
This time there’s no slow build-up. He sets a brutal pace immediately, fucking into me hard and deep, exactly like he promised. Each thrust punches sounds out of me, desperate and loud, and I don’t even try to muffle them this time.
“That’s it,” he says, voice thick. “Let me hear you. Let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless.”
His angle is perfect, hitting my prostate with every stroke, and I’m already close again. My body is overstimulated, trembling, caught between too much and not enough.
“Touch yourself,” he commands.
I wrap my hand around myself and stroke in time with his thrusts. It only takes a few pulls before I’m there, gasping his name as I come for the second time, painting my stomach with weaker spurts.
He fucks me through it, chasing his own release, and when he comes again, he buries himself deep and groans my name.
We collapse together, both wrecked and gasping.
My alarm goes off, and I groan. I reach for my phone, miss it, and it clatters to the floor, still ringing. He shifts behind me, arms tightening around my waist.
“Make it shut up.”
“You need to let go of me then,” I say, barely opening my eyes.
He groans and releases me so I can roll over and reach for my phone to turn off the alarm, then crawl back into his warmth.
My ass is aching after last night because he kept his promise and fucked me so hard I genuinely don’t think I can go to work today.
His arms wrap around me again, his heat making my eyes want to close.
I eventually force myself off the bed. My skin prickles. I glance out the window at a dark, cold fall morning and already dread the day ahead.
“It’s a busy day at the office for me. I need to print a lot of papers.” He wipes his hands over his face while saying it, making his abs and biceps flex distractingly.
Is printing papers another way of saying killing people? Or is he just saying that without the double meaning? I don’t know what is wrong with me. I keep letting myself forget what he actually does for a living.
“Please don’t print a lot of papers today. Can’t you just sit at the computer all day or something?”
He drops his hands and looks over at me with a frown. “No. I have a huge list of names I need to print, and my father wants it done today.”
“Nope, stop. Lalalala.” I cover my ears and walk toward the bathroom.
He follows me with his arms crossed, watching me brush my teeth.
“It bothers you.”
I scoff and pull the toothbrush out. “What, your office job? Yes, it bothers me.”
I shove the toothbrush back in and keep brushing aggressively.
“I was born into this.”
I sigh and spit into the sink. “I know, but that doesn’t make me feel any better about knowing what you do. I hate we can’t even be seen in public together. I was so confused when you basically claimed me in front of my colleague because you’re the one who said we can’t do things like that.”
He rubs at his jaw. “This is what I do, Kelly. I kill people. I’m good at it, and I’m not stopping.
” He steps closer. “I’ll tell you I’m printing papers and filing reports, but we both know what I’m really doing.
We can pretend all you want.” He takes another step closer.
“And about yesterday? My family has rules about everything. Who I can want. Who I can touch. I’ve broken every single one for you. You’re the exception to all of it.”
“You’re giving up everything, and I’m terrified I won’t be worth it.” My voice breaks despite trying to keep it steady.
He takes two fast steps toward me. I flinch and jump back on instinct. Not because I think he’ll hurt me—I know he won’t—but because my body learned this response a long time ago. David drilled it into me, and I hate that it’s still there.
He stops short, frowning. “You’re scared of me?”
I sigh. “No.”
“Kelly.”
“Just hug me,” I say, wrapping my arms around him first, pulling him against me. His hands hesitate at my back for a moment, then he locks his arms around me.
“Did something happen to you?” he whispers into my hair.
The shame hits hard and fast, cuts right through my chest. I can’t go there. I don’t want to tell him, don’t even want to say it out loud because then it’s real again, and I’ve worked so hard to shove it down.
I feel pathetic for letting it happen even though I know I shouldn’t, know it wasn’t my fault. But that doesn’t stop the voice in my head that sounds exactly like David telling me I asked for it. That I’m weak. That normal people don’t let themselves get treated like that.
If I tell Alexei what really happened, he’s going to see it too. He’s going to realize I’m the type of person who gets walked on and keeps coming back. He’s going to figure out that I’m already broken, and maybe that’s not what he wants.
I hate feeling this small, weak, and pathetic.
I don’t want him to look at me like I’m some damaged thing he has to be careful with. I don’t want him to know that part of me still thinks maybe I had it coming.
“No. I’m just tired.”
He pulls me in tighter, his voice still low but firmer now. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. Give me a name, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
I freeze for a second.
I shake my head and look at him. “It’s not like that. Nothing happened, okay?”
I hear him breathe out slowly and nod into my hair before he grips me tighter and kisses the top of my head.
We’re both so fucked up by the people who were supposed to teach us how to be loved.
He grew up thinking this was shameful, dangerous, something to hide.
His whole family probably thinks the same way.
But he keeps choosing me anyway, keeps coming back, keeps letting himself want this even when it scares him.
Whereas I’m too scared to tell him what David did because he taught me I deserved it. That I asked for it by staying. That normal people don’t let themselves get broken like that.
Maybe we’re both just learning how to stop being ashamed of the parts of ourselves other people convinced us were wrong.