Chapter 28 Lena #2
“Breathe, malyshka. I’ve got you.”
I breathed. And he pushed inside.
The stretch burned. Even wet, even relaxed from the orgasm that had left me loose and pliant, it burned. He was bigger than his fingers, bigger than I’d imagined, and my body clenched around him involuntarily, trying to push him out even as I wanted to pull him deeper.
“Fuck.” The word was a groan, ripped from somewhere deep in his chest. “You’re so tight. So fucking tight. Just relax. Let me in.”
He held still, buried halfway inside me, his forehead pressed to mine. His breath came in ragged gasps, and I could feel the tension vibrating through him, the effort it was taking not to move. Sweat beaded on his skin. His scent had changed, gone darker, muskier. More animal.
I forced myself to relax. To breathe through the burn. To remember that I wanted this, that I’d asked for this, that this was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Slowly, the pain faded. The burn transformed into something else. Fullness. Completion. Like I’d been missing a piece of myself that I hadn’t known was gone.
“More,” I whispered.
He groaned and pushed the rest of the way in.
The sensation was indescribable. Him, inside me, filling me completely. His hips flush against mine, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his breath hot against my neck. We were as close as two people could possibly be, and it still didn’t feel like enough.
“Okay?” he asked, the word strained.
“Yes.” I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper, feeling the shift of him inside me. “Please, Raphael. Move.”
He did.
Slowly at first. Long, careful strokes that let me feel every inch of him dragging against my inner walls.
The friction was exquisite, pleasure building again already, coiling tighter with every thrust. I could hear the wet sounds of our bodies moving together, could smell sex and sweat and him, and it should have been embarrassing but instead it just made me wetter.
And then he started moving faster.
His control frayed and then snapped completely. The careful lover disappeared, replaced by something raw and primal and hungry. His hips slammed into mine, the headboard hitting the wall with every thrust, and I couldn’t do anything but hold on and try to breathe.
“Mine.” The word rumbled out of him, more growl than speech. “This cunt is mine now. Every part of you is mine. Say it.”
“Yours.” The word tore from my throat without thought. “I’m yours. All of me.”
His fingers hooked under my collar and tugged, a familiar gesture that made my breath catch.
Then his hand slid up, wrapping around my throat above the chain.
Not squeezing. Just holding. I could feel him decide whether to tighten his grip.
The choice was his, not mine. And somehow that made it perfect.
I should have been scared. His hand around my throat, his collar around my neck, his body pinning me to the bed, his hips driving into me with punishing force. I should have panicked.
Instead, I floated.
There was something freeing about the surrender. About giving up control completely. About trusting him to take me exactly where I needed to go.
His fingers tightened slightly, just enough to make my next breath shallow. The world narrowed down to the pressure at my throat and the pressure between my legs, building and building toward something that felt too big to survive.
And then I felt him swell.
Inside me, something was growing. Stretching me wider than I thought possible, locking him deep. I gasped, my eyes flying open, panic and pleasure tangling together in my chest.
“Raphael, what—”
“Shh.” His jaw was clenched, sweat beading on his brow, his whole body trembling with restraint. “Just take it. Take all of it. You were made for this. Made for me.”
I didn’t understand what was happening. Didn’t know why he felt impossibly bigger now, why my body was stretched to the point of breaking around something that hadn’t been there before.
It hurt. It hurt and I wanted more. The pressure was hitting places inside me I didn’t know existed, and the pain was transforming into something else entirely.
Too much. It was too much and not enough and I never wanted it to stop.
His thrusts grew erratic, desperate. His breathing turned ragged, punctuated by sounds that didn’t quite sound human.
Low rumbles that vibrated through his chest into mine.
And then his mouth dropped to my throat, his teeth pressing against my skin hard enough to hurt, hard enough to bruise.
A growl vibrated through his body into mine, something deep and primal that seemed to come from somewhere far more animal than human.
His eyes, when I caught a glimpse of them, were wrong. Amber instead of gray. Glowing in the firelight like an animal’s. Like something not quite human.
This wasn’t a trick of the light. This wasn’t firelight catching at strange angles. His eyes were glowing, pupils dilated, irises burning with a color that didn’t exist in any human I’d ever met. I should have been terrified. Should have pushed him away, demanded an explanation.
Instead, I went boneless beneath him, some instinct I didn’t understand telling me to stay perfectly still, to let him have this.
“Raphael?” Fear and arousal tangled together in my voice.
He wrenched himself back with a snarl. His jaw clenched so hard I heard his teeth grind together. His whole body shuddered, muscles standing out in sharp relief, every line of him screaming with the effort of holding something back. And when he looked at me again, his eyes were normal. Gray. Human.
“Don’t stop.” I grabbed his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He kissed me hard, his tongue claiming my mouth as thoroughly as his cock was claiming my body. His hand tightened on my throat again and I gasped into his mouth, surrendering to it. And then he was moving again, faster, harder, his hips snapping against mine with a desperation that matched my own.
The orgasm built impossibly fast. Higher and higher, tension coiling so tight I thought I might shatter from it. His fingers pressed into my throat and his cock drove into me and the pleasure peaked, crested, broke.
I came before he told me to. My body didn’t care about permission anymore.
I screamed his name as I came apart, my whole body convulsing around him, tears streaming down my cheeks from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it.
He followed a heartbeat later, his whole body going rigid above me, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as his cock pulsed inside me.
I felt every throb, every hot spurt of him filling me.
He kept coming, kept pumping into me, his hips jerking with each wave until I was overflowing with him, until the wet sounds of our bodies were obscene in the quiet room.
His teeth clamped on my throat as he continued to come.
Not biting, not breaking skin, just holding me in place like an animal pinning its mate.
I should have been terrified. Instead I melted beneath him, that same instinct holding me motionless, urging me to submit.
His breath came hot and ragged against my skin as he held me there, his cock still twitching inside me, his release seeping out of me warm and slick, marking the sheets beneath us. Marking me.
We stayed like that for a long time, tangled together, sweat cooling on our skin, until his cock finally softened and slipped out.
His heartbeat thundered against my chest, gradually slowing to match my own.
The firelight danced over our bodies, painting everything gold and shadow.
Neither of us spoke. There didn’t seem to be words for what had just happened.
Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling me with him so I was tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go.
I traced the scars on his chest with my fingertip. A long one curved around his ribs. A cluster of smaller ones marked his shoulder. Evidence of a violence I couldn’t imagine.
“What was that?” I asked finally. My voice was hoarse from screaming, from crying, from everything. “Before. Your eyes. That sound you made. It was like…”
I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Like you weren’t human? Like something else was looking out at me? It sounded crazy even in my head.
He tensed beneath me. Just for a second. Then his arms tightened, pulling me closer.
“Sometimes I lose control around you.” His voice was careful. Measured. Like he was choosing each word with care. “There are parts of myself I usually keep locked down. Dark parts. Dangerous parts. You make me forget to hold them back.”
It wasn’t a real answer. I knew that. But I was too wrung out, too satisfied, too deeply in love to push for more. The soreness between my thighs was a pleasant ache, proof that this had been real, that I was changed, that I belonged to him now in a way I could never take back.
“I’m not afraid of your dark parts,” I said instead.
His laugh was soft and bitter. “You should be.”
“Well, I’m not.”
Silence settled over us, warm and thick as a blanket. I pressed my cheek to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Feeling the rise and fall of his breath.
“I love you,” I said.
The words came out easier this time. Not desperate, like they’d been before. Just true. A simple statement of fact.
He didn’t say it back.
But he pressed a kiss to my hair, and his arms tightened around me, and when I looked up at him, his eyes were wet.
“Sleep,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.”
So I did. I let my eyes drift closed, let my body relax into his warmth, let the exhaustion of the night pull me under. I was sore and satisfied and utterly, completely safe.
The last thing I saw before sleep took me was his face in the firelight, watching me with an expression I couldn’t name.
But I was too tired to wonder why.
When I woke hours later, still tangled in his arms, his fingers were stroking through my hair. Slow, repetitive, like he’d been doing it for a long time. His eyes were fixed on my face, dark and unreadable, like a man memorizing something he expected to lose.
I was too drowsy to question it. Too warm and safe and satisfied to question it.
I closed my eyes and let sleep pull me under again, telling myself the grief I’d glimpsed was just a trick of the dying firelight.