Chapter 14 Danica #2
His hand slides down my stomach and pushes under the waistband of my pants. I'm already so wet that when his fingers find me, I nearly come apart right there. He strokes me slowly at first and then faster. His thumb circles my clit and I can't breathe.
"Oh, God," I whisper, spreading my legs to give him more room to work. It's been weeks now and his fingers are magic. As hot as me makes me sometimes, I stand no chance at lasting long at all, especially when he starts giving me orders.
"Come for me," he orders against my breast. "I want to feel you come on my hand."
The command combined with what his fingers are doing sends me over the edge.
An orgasm crashes through me and I have no choice but to grab onto him to keep from falling.
My whole body shakes, and I hear myself making sounds I've never made before, low gurgling sounds as my body shudders and rolls.
The sensations are powerful, warming me and causing dizziness, but Vadim doesn't back down.
He doesn't give me time to recover. He pulls his hand away and hooks his fingers in my pants and underwear and yanks them down. I lift my hips to help him, and then I'm completely naked on his kitchen counter waiting for him to take me.
His eyes are dark with lust and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. I can see how hard he is through his boxers, and I reach out and palm him through the fabric. He groans and his hips thrust forward into my hand.
"Careful," he warns, but I don't listen. I push his boxers down and wrap my hand around him. He's hot and hard in my palm and when I stroke him, he closes his eyes and curses in Russian.
"I need you inside me," I tell him, and my voice sounds wrecked.
Vadim opens his eyes and they're blazing with need. He grabs my hips and pulls me to the edge of the counter. Then he positions himself at my entrance and pauses.
"Look at me," he orders, and I do. Our eyes lock and then he pushes inside me in one slow thrust that has me groaning and clamping around him.
I forgot that he's big and the stretch is almost too much.
But then he starts moving and it feels incredible.
My thighs spread, his hips burying into me. God, his body is amazing.
His hand comes up and wraps around my throat, claiming me again, and I expose the column of my neck to him.
"You're mine," he growls. "I'm done with this game of back and forth.
You either want me or you don't, and because you drive me insane, I've made the choice for you.
You belong to me." His hips continue snapping, fucking me as I pant and gasp. "Tell me you belong to me."
"I'm yours," I gasp out, and he rewards me by angling his hips so he hits that spot inside me that makes me see stars. I don't know what it means or what he really wants, but I will say anything for him to keep fucking me like this.
"Again," he demands.
"I'm yours," I repeat louder. "God, I'm yours."
He releases my throat and his thumb finds my clit again. He rubs circles while he pounds into me, and I can feel another orgasm building. This one is bigger than the first. It's starting in my toes and working its way up.
"That's it," he encourages. "Come on my cock. Let me feel you."
His words combined with what he's doing to my body send me flying. The orgasm rips through me and I moan so loud and out of control, it almost sounds like pain and fear—but it's sheer pleasure. My inner walls clench around him, and I feel him curse and his rhythm falters.
"Danica," he groans my name. "Fuck."
He thrusts into me hard three more times, and then I feel him come. His whole body goes rigid and he buries himself as deep as he can go. He pulses inside me, and I feel the warmth of his release filling me.
We stay like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard and trembling.
His forehead drops to rest against mine, and I can feel his heart pounding against my chest. The slow, sensual kiss is more erotic as I feel his cum drain out of me, and his dick is still pulsing inside me.
I never want this moment to end. It's too perfect to let him pull away.
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, and I almost chuckle at how wrecked he sounds.
My legs are wrapped around his waist and I don't want to let go because I know as soon as I do, we'll have to deal with what just happened. But the sweat slicking my skin is making me get a chill, and my lips are raw from kissing him.
"We should probably move," I say quietly, but neither of us makes any attempt to.
The doorbell cuts through the silence like a knife and we both freeze. Vadim is still inside me and his hands are still gripping my hips. For a moment neither of us moves, and then the doorbell rings again.
"Fuck," he mutters and pulls out of me quickly. I feel the loss immediately and more cum drains from me onto the counter and the edge of the cupboard. I grimace, but there isn't much I can do about it.
He grabs his boxers off the floor and yanks them on, followed by his jeans as I slide off the counter.
My legs are shaking so badly, I have to grab onto the edge to steady myself.
My clothes are scattered across the kitchen floor mixed with his, and I scramble to gather them up as the doorbell rings a third time.
This time, Vadim's buttoning his jeans as he walks toward the front door. He doesn't look back at me, and I'm grateful for that. I don't want him to see my face right now because I feel embarrassed as I scurry through the living room, clutching my clothes to my chest and running for the bedroom.
My bare feet slap against the floor and I hear Vadim opening the front door as I slam the bedroom door shut behind me. His voice drifts down the hallway as I drop my clothes on the bed and grab a towel from the closet.
My whole body's trembling. I can still feel him everywhere. His hands on my skin. His mouth on my neck. The way he filled me completely. My God, he was incredible. I almost feel giddy. But I also feel dirty now.
I head to the bathroom and turn on the shower as hot as it will go.
Steam fills the room, and I step under the spray before it's fully heated.
The water is lukewarm at first and then scalding, but I don't adjust the temperature.
I want it to burn and sanitize me. After my long shift and the stress of it all, I want to feel clean again.
What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't thinking. That's the problem. I let my body make decisions that my brain should have been making. I let ten days of tension and proximity and forced intimacy turn into something physical.
And it was good—that's what makes it worse. It was incredible. And I hate that Vadim knows my body so well already. I hate that he could make me come twice in the span of minutes. I hate that I wanted him so badly, I didn't even care that we were in his kitchen with the lights on.
I press my forehead against the cool tile and let the hot water pound against my back. This isn't how my life was supposed to go. I was supposed to work at the diner and save money. Maybe go back to school and meet someone nice and normal who worked a regular job.
Instead I'm married to a Russian criminal who just fucked me on his kitchen counter, whom I simultaneously hate and desperately want. He makes me feel things I've never felt before and terrifies me in ways I can't articulate.
But isn't that what makes him so irresistible? That he's so unpredictable and powerful?
I'm making poor life choices, and most of them are spurred on by very strong emotions, and not the good type. Everything changes eventually, just usually not this fast or this dramatically. And I feel powerless to stop the changes from continuing.
Why can't I seem to get a handle on things? And when will I be able to stop for a moment to think things through? Because if I keep up at this pace, I'll be running jobs right alongside Vadim before we've been together six months. I'm just that stupid.