Chapter 8 Jessica
Jessica
For a few seconds, I can’t move.
I’m on the office floor, the city a smear of light in the darkening night behind the glass, my body still humming like it hasn’t caught up to reality yet. Everything feels too bright. Too sharp.
I feel… buoyant.
Loose-limbed. Light-headed. Like something heavy I’ve been carrying for years has been set down without me realizing I was even letting it go.
I push myself away from the slab of his chest slowly, dragging my blouse closed with hands that tremble only slightly.
He is still inside me, not moving, and knowing he is still there sets off conflicting feelings.
On one hand, it’s sexy as hell, on the other, it’s a solid reminder of what we just did.
Our reflection catches in the window and I barely recognize the woman looking back at me. My hair is a mess. My mouth is swollen. My eyes are bright in a way that feels dangerous.
Alive.
I lift my eyes to his, bracing myself for regret. For shame. For the cold snap of reality that should follow something this reckless.
It doesn’t come.
Rurik is watching me the way he did during the meeting, only this time there’s no pretense of distance. No attempt to hide the intensity. His gaze tracks every movement I make, steady and unblinking, like he’s already recalculating the world with me standing inside it.
The awareness between us hasn’t eased. If anything, it’s sharpened.
“This doesn’t mean what you think it means,” I say, needing to say something, anything, to anchor myself.
He doesn’t answer right away.
I begin to lift myself from him but his hands come down on my hips and hold me in place.
“I get that you aren’t looking for a relationship or anything. Things got tense. We relieved the tension.” I know I’m babbling, but I don’t want him to feel obligated in any way. “I’ll leave, and I will pull out of the project. We can go back to not even knowing each other exists.”
A low rumble comes from him at that, his hands still keeping me in place.
“My cock is still inside you, Jessica.” He looks like a man on the edge of madness. “Don’t talk about leaving while your cunt still flutters around me.”
I gulp down whatever else was going to come out of my mouth.
The silence that follows presses against my nerves, stretching the moment thin.
I suddenly understand how dangerous he is in ways that have nothing to do with violence.
He doesn’t rush. He lets things unfold until you’re the one scrambling to catch up.
He presses on my hips, forcing me to grind against him and I whimper involuntarily.
“What do you think I think it means?” he asks, his pale eyes glittering in the darkening room.
I swallow. “I think you’re used to getting what you want. I think this was… impulse.”
His mouth curves slightly as he rocks me against him again.
“I don’t do impulse,” he says sending a thrill straight through me.
If this wasn’t impulse, then it was choice. And the weight of that presses down on me in ways I don’t know how to unpack yet.
Another press of my hips, another roll of my pelvis, another gasp pulled from me against my wishes.
My body is still aching in places I don’t want to think about too closely. I feel powerful and exposed at the same time, like I’ve stepped into a version of myself I didn’t know existed.
“I don’t know what happens now,” I admit on a moan. “I don’t know what this makes me. Or what it makes us.”
“It makes you mine to protect,” he says, lifting me a little this time before dragging me back into a grind. “Mine to keep.” Grind. “Mine to Fuck.” Grind. “Mine to breed.” Grind.
The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver through me, sharp and undeniable. I should push back. Should assert myself. Should remind him I’m not something to be claimed.
Instead, my breath stutters.
“And what does it make you?” I ask, pleasure trying to build while I try to keep some kind of control.
His eyes darken instantly, something primal and unmistakable breaking through his control. Suddenly he flips us, pressing me into the plush carpet and pinning my arms above my head.
“I’m the man who will fuck you full of cum every night.” His pace is punishing, his thick cock stretching me mercilessly.
My pulse spikes as I cry out, pleasure threatening to tear me apart.
“This doesn’t end here,” he says, voice low and intent. “And you’re not leaving this hotel.” His words are grunts as he fucks me with obliterating force.
His weight pins me to the carpet, heavy and unyielding, and I can’t move. I don’t want to move. My wrists are trapped in one of his hands above my head, the other braced beside my shoulder as he drives into me with a force that steals every thought I have left.
Each thrust is deep and punishing, like he’s trying to brand himself inside me. The stretch burns in the best way, my body still sensitive from the first time, and I’m already trembling beneath him.
“Look at me,” he growls, voice rough and low.
My eyes snap open, locking onto his pale gaze. There’s no softness there, only raw possession, and it drags a helpless moan from my throat.
“That’s it,” he says, snapping his hips forward hard enough to jolt my whole body. “Take every fucking inch of me. You feel how deep I am, Jessica? Feel how your sweet pussy is desperately trying to milk me for my cum already?”
I whimper, arching up as much as his grip allows. Words are impossible; all I can do is feel. The thick slide of him, the drag against every sensitive spot inside me, the way my thighs shake around his waist.
“You were made for this,” he rasps, slowing just enough to grind against my clit before slamming back in. “Made to take my cock, made to take my cum. I’m going to fill you up again. Going to pump you so full you’ll feel me dripping out of you for days.”
The filthy promise hits me like a spark to gasoline. Heat floods my core, and I clench around him involuntarily, drawing a harsh groan from his chest.
“Just like that,” he praises darkly. “Squeeze my cock with your tight cunt. Show me how much you want it. You want me to breed you, don’t you?
” He lets go of my arms and splays his hand over my lower belly, pressing down so I feel him even deeper.
My moans turn into long low whines. “You want me to fuck you full until there’s no question who you belong to. ”
I cry out, the sound ragged and broken. I should protest, should say something about protection or consequences or sanity, but the words dissolve before they reach my tongue. All that’s left is yes. Yes, to the dirty, impossible, overwhelming truth of it.
My hips lift to meet his thrusts, chasing the pleasure he’s building in me, surrendering completely to the rhythm he sets. Unable to match it now as I feel the world slip away.
He speeds up, relentless, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the quiet office, his eyes dropping to my breasts, still partially covered, bouncing uncontrollably with the force of what he is doing.
“Say it,” he demands, voice edged with strain as he lifts his eyes back to mine. “Tell me you want it.”
“I—” The word fractures into a mewl as he angles just right, hitting that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyes. “I want it,” I gasp, barely recognizing my own voice. “Please, Rurik, I want it.”
A low, triumphant sound rumbles out of him. “Good girl. Going to give you everything, every drop, until you’re heavy with carrying me. Until everyone knows you’re mine.”
His words feel like the only truth I’ve ever needed.
Pleasure coils tighter and tighter, unbearable, until I’m shaking, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from the intensity. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t ease up. He drives me higher, owning every gasp, every shudder, every helpless clench of my body around his.
“I’m going to make you come while I’m breeding you,” he is breathless now. The exertion beginning to show, but he doesn’t slow. He changes his angle just slightly and I break.
The orgasm crashes over me in a blinding wave, stronger than the first, ripping a silent scream from my throat as my back bows off the carpet. My whole body locks around him, pulsing, pulling him deeper, and he groans my name like it’s being torn out of him.
“Fuck—Jessica—”
He buries himself to the hilt and stays there, hips jerking as he spills inside me again. I feel every throb, every pulse, and it drags my climax out longer, until I’m sobbing with the overwhelming pleasure of it.
He collapses over me, breath harsh against my neck, one big hand still covering my stomach, his cock still seated deep. For a long moment there’s only the sound of us breathing and the frantic beat of my heart in my ears.
And in that quiet, something settles inside me with absolute certainty.
This is it.
I don’t want anything else.
Not the careful distance I’ve kept from everyone for years. Not the safe, solitary life I built brick by brick to outrun my past. Not the illusion that I could ever walk away from this man and be satisfied with anything less.
I want him. His intensity, his possession, his brutal honesty. I want the danger and the safety he offers in the same breath. I want whatever future he’s already decided we’re having, because the thought of any other future suddenly feels hollow.
It’s painful when he pulls from me. Like my body has learned to accommodate him and doesn’t want to be without. He leans over and grabs my panties, sliding them back onto my ankles, before helping me straighten up.
I daren’t say anything this time. Not while I’m still throbbing with what we just did.
When he stands, he holds out a hand for me to take.
“Come with me.”