Chapter 14 Matysh #2
I slap my hands against her ass, squeezing it and massaging it as I keep fucking her. Her pussy is so fucking tight I can barely fit inside her.
This, right here, is my version of heaven, and I get to have it every day for the rest of my life if I want.
And I definitely want it. I don’t know when she’ll be fucked out of my system.
“You feel so good,” Catarina moans out, closing her eyes for a moment before forcing them open again. Her lips are parted as she cries desperately, the closer I bring her to orgasm.
As soon as I feel her walls clamping around me, I can't hold myself back. My cock throbs and twitches and I explode inside of her while she cums all over my cock.
“Oh fuck, yes! Matysh!” Catarina cries out with eyes practically rolling back in her head.
I grip her waist tight as I slam every inch of my cock inside of her while I finish. The bed shakes while both of us lose ourselves to the pleasure.
As soon as Catarina settles down below me and I've fully drained my balls, I pull out of her and stare at her while my cum leaks out of her pussy.
Her ass is bright red, and her body is almost limp, but she's held in place by the ropes behind her legs.
“I hope next time you'll think twice before questioning how good it is to be mine,” I say as I delicately finger the ropes and untie her.
“Yes, Matysh,” she breathlessly replies, though I still see the lack of earnestness in her eyes. She doesn’t believe that it means anything at all. But she has no idea.
I put my clothes back on and leave the room. Luckily, when I check with the house staff, our family saw themselves out.
So much for our family Christmas dinner.
***
I wake before Catarina does. I lie in bed for a while listening to the sound of her breathing as she nestles herself deeper in the sheets.
She looks peaceful while she's sleeping. And that’s about the only time she looks that way.
Honestly, I’m feeling a little soft and would probably stay to watch her longer, but it's Christmas Eve…
And it still doesn't feel like the Christmas I know she wants.
She and Mikhail dreamed of what their holiday traditions would be, and even with the conversations I've had with Catarina, they haven't been anywhere near as sentimental.
And I don’t know why I even fucking care, but I feel like I’m letting her down. Or something.
So, I tell Helena to keep a close eye on her. I have somewhere to go.
I grab a helmet and put on my bike jacket, heading out on my motorcycle.
Catarina has grown up in the lap of luxury, so she won't be impressed by expensive jewelry or fancy clothes. She has all of those things. Catarina wants something that will touch her, that will show her that I'm the type of person who pays attention to her and cares.
But I can only think of one thing she loves, and that's Mikhail.
Thinking about that, I come up with the perfect idea, and I head directly to 5th Avenue, knowing I'll be able to find it somewhere there.
I find exactly what I’m looking for. A locket, where she can place a picture of the love of her life—the one she lost.
I stare down at it in my hand as I make it back out to where I’ve parked my bike, imagining my brother’s face around my wife’s neck. As much as I know that’s her love, something in my chest aches at the thought of never having her affection like that.
Fuck me. This is stupid.
I shove the locket into my leather jacket, and then head for my bike. I sling my leg over the bike, put on the helmet, and then double-check that the locket is still where it’s supposed to be. I zip it up, and then smile beneath the black visor.
I don’t know what fucking drug Catarina is, but she’s the kind that’s crawled under my skin, and found a home.
And maybe I don’t love her. But I don’t really hate her anymore.
“That’s pretty fucking monumental,” I mutter under my breath to myself as I dig out my key.
However, when I slide it into the ignition, I pause for a moment before taking off.
Something is wrong. It’s too stiff, and the motor feels too hot.
I lean forward to try and get a look at the ignition, and the closer I get, I smell burnt plastic. Shit, shit, shit!
My heart drops and I kick my leg over the side of the bike as quickly as I can, climbing off. I glance around the crowd of people, trying to count how many feet are between the bike and the nearest bystanders.
“Get back!” I shout to a couple of people within a few feet. They take the hint, and run, just as a plume of smoke appears from the tank.
Fuck.
And that’s when it explodes. The blast is enough to knock me forward from nearly twenty feet from the bike, and the boom echoes through the area, causing my ears to ring.
I crash against the asphalt, small pebbles forcing themselves into my scraped palms. Everything goes quiet as my hearing fades entirely.
My heart pounds and my blood rages, adrenaline coursing through me. I don't register the blood on my forehead, the burns on my arms, or how badly I've scraped my knees. None of that fucking matters right now.
I stand up, turn around, and see my destroyed bike.
Someone just tried to fucking kill me.
In the back of my mind, all I hear is Mikhail's voice. His last words. The promise I made.
I have to get to Catarina.