Chapter 10 Vivika #2
"Don't stop," I squeak out, and it's like I've burst the dam.
Lev's grip on my throat loosens but doesn't let go. His hips snap hard against me as his cock drives into my back wall and his lips cover mine again.
It's exquisite, the powerful waves of sensation fluttering across every inch of my body. I lift my legs and wrap them around his hips as I rock up to meet his rhythm, and he bites my lip so hard, I taste copper.
"Fuck, you are tight. Your pussy was made for me, Vivika."
"Oh, God," I whine. He feels incredible—like my brain could implode and I'd be totally fine with dying right here, and he hasn't even made me come yet. But it's building.
I can feel the pressure in my core, like a spring tightening down around a screw that's about to pop loose. My toes curl and my back arches. It's never this easy.
"Shit, you're gonna drop me hot, honey… You gotta slow down." He backs off, pulling out all the way before flipping me over and pressing my face into the pillows. Then he's back in me, sliding into me from behind as he smacks my ass. "Yeah… that's it. That pussy is screaming to release, isn't it?"
"Mmm," is all I can manage, and he takes a handful of my hair and pulls it hard.
"Say it…"
"Yes," I whimper… "I want to come so bad. Please." My palms splay on the sheet and he drives into me harder.
"Good girl. You'll get the hang of this.
" Another hard smack to my ass makes me jolt, and I whine loudly, backing up into him as he lifts my hips upward but keeps my face planted on the sheets.
"Fuck, you're hot." His thumb presses against my ass as he says, "I'm gonna take this next too, stretch this hot ring so wide, you’ll scream my name. "
But when he pushes his thumb into me, spitting on my entrance to lube it, I lose it. My body snaps and I start jerking and convulsing. His thumb sinks as deep as he can push it, almost painfully stretching me, as his dick continues to glide in and out of my core.
"Oh God… too much… It's so intense." I'm writhing, clawing at the pillows, and when he shoves a second finger in my back hole, I scream into one.
But my agony and ecstasy are short lived as I feel him drive deeper and his cock start pulsing. Tiny grunts of pleasure escape his lips as he continues to slide in and out of me a few more times, and I sigh and shudder as he pulls his thumbs out of me.
Then it's just his dick and the oozing moisture that dribbles down my thighs.
I'm still jolting in aftershocks, trembling and drooling in a heap of tangled hair and pillows.
And when Lev pulls out and the rest of his cum drains down my leg, all I can do is collapse to the side and breathe through it.
It was incredible and I feel spent.
His lips press against my shoulder as he curls around me, and I feel the words vibrate against my skin before I hear them. "You're incredible."
I don't know what to say to that. My body's still humming with aftershocks, my mind still reeling from the intensity of it.
I've never been with anyone like him before, never experienced anything close to what happened in this bed.
It's left me feeling raw and exposed, almost like I betrayed myself for wanting him.
But I did want him. I do want him. I just don't know why.
I push the emotions down before they can take root. This isn't love. This isn't even the beginning of love. It's sex, pure and simple, two bodies seeking pleasure in each other. It doesn't mean anything. I won't let it mean anything.
"Coffee?" Lev asks, rolling out of bed casually. It's like he feels nothing, or maybe to him it's easier to switch off emotionally. But I manage to croak an answer for him.
"Please."
I watch him pull on a pair of pants, my eyes tracing the tattoos that cover his arms and chest, the muscles that shift beneath his skin as he moves. He catches me looking and smirks, and I feel heat rise to my cheeks as I grab the sheet and pull it up to cover myself as he struts out confidently.
He just fucked me. He had his fingers in my ass and I'm embarrassed that he looks at me naked? My God, I'm so stupid. Why did I let him do that to me? What is wrong with me? How am I such a weak woman to let physical sensations rule my life?
By the time I've found my clothes and made myself presentable, the smell of fresh coffee is drifting through the townhouse. I follow it to the kitchen, where Lev's leaning against the counter with a mug in his hand and another waiting on the counter for me.
"We need to talk about tonight," he says as I pick up the mug and wrap my hands around its warmth.
"What's tonight?" He switches so easily from screwing me to business. I wonder if he even has a heart in that chest.
"Another outing—a Gravitch club on the east side of the city." He takes a sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim. "We need to keep pushing, keep making sure the Veches notice Ana has resurfaced. The bank was a good start, but we need more visibility."
I'm not sure what to think about all of this.
I agreed to comply with him to save those women, but my business is on the line the longer I ignore it.
My clients won't know what happened to me or why I haven't shown up to my appointments.
And what about my rent or bills? Who's taking care of my life while I'm here being paraded around?
But the taste of him is still on my lips, and I'm finding it hard to focus.
The memory of his hands on my skin is imprinted there like a brand.
I can't even think about anything else. But I force myself to focus and try to get my head in the game.
I'm sure I'll have tons of time for self-loathing and obsessing later when he locks me up again.
"What exactly will I have to do there?"
"Same as before. Just act like Ana. Stay close to me.
Let people see your face and draw their own conclusions.
" He sets down his mug and crosses the kitchen toward me, stopping close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
"You did well at the bank. Better than I expected.
Tonight will be easier because you'll have me right beside you the whole time. "
"And after tonight?"
"One step at a time." He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear then curls his fingers around my neck and kisses me hard.
The kiss is lingering, and I taste my moisture on his lips still, salty and pungent.
And when he tangles his hand in my hair, angling my head backward, I let a soft moan come out.
Lev lingers and then lets me go, saying, "Focus on tonight. We'll worry about the rest later."
I take a sip of coffee to hide the confusion I'm feeling, the tangle of emotions I don't know how to name.
An hour ago, I woke up in this man's bed without any memory of how I got there.
And now I'm standing in his kitchen wearing yesterday's dirty gown with the evidence of our encounter still sticky between my thighs.
My life has become something I don't recognize.
But when Lev looks at me with those dark eyes, when his hand brushes against my cheek with that unexpected gentleness, I feel like I'm leaning heavily toward not wanting the same life anymore.
It terrifies me.