19. Tori
TORI
I wanted to punch a wall.
If I knew how to do anything after spending a lifetime with a politician for a father, it was how to pretend that everything was fine even when it wasn’t.
So despite my altercation with Luka, my objectification by Stefan, and my persistent uneasiness around Konstantin, I’d spent the rest of the evening silently fuming behind polite engagement and a cheerful smile. Michelle would have been proud.
For their part, Stefan and Luka managed to finish dinner without looking at each other or saying anything directly to the other.
If Konstantin or Emzee noticed, they said nothing.
Everyone acted as if everything was fine and normal.
At one point in the evening, Emzee had pulled me aside to help her find a bottle opener in the kitchen (as if I’d know, anyway) and she’d quietly apologized for how her father and brothers were behaving.
“They’re always like this,” she said with a sigh. “It’s always work, work, work. As if the world revolves around the agency.”
“Sounds familiar,” I said with a smile, trying to make light of it as I rifled through utensil drawers.
“Well, if it ever gets to be too much, just call me,” Emzee said. “I’ll come kidnap you and we’ll go have a night out on the town, or do the River Walk. Maybe get our nails done.”
This time my smile was genuine. “I’d love that. Really.”
I handed her the opener.
Her face lit up. “Ooh, and have you been to the Logan Theatre?”
“Is that in Logan Square?” I asked. “They play all the indie movies and foreign films, right?”
Emzee nodded. “It looks like nothing from the outside, but on the inside it’s totally wall-to-wall Art Deco. It’s to die for. Like going back in time. And they have a full bar!”
“That sounds amazing,” I said. “Guess I’ll have to break out my fake ID.”
“Gah, I keep forgetting you’re underage!” she said, squeezing my arm. “We’ll both get Shirley Temples, then.”
We exchanged cell numbers and she had promised to reach out soon.
Back at the table, I finally gave in and drank a glass of the wine Emzee had offered me, just to try and relax.
I hated the way Stefan was treating me, like we were back to square one, but I didn’t know what to do about it.
I wanted the man who had finger fucked me in the closet, not the man who was treating me like an object, or the man who acted distant and unyielding about the terms of our marriage, who was so on-edge about work all the time that he barely acknowledged me.
I was angry at myself, too. I knew the kind of man he was, yet I kept setting myself up for disappointment. And I was in denial about where our relationship might be able to go.
Finally his family left, and we were alone.
Stefan didn’t even look at me, just undid his tie, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and grabbed a last drink before heading into the bedroom.
I followed him. I wasn’t going to let him ignore me.
Not tonight. Not after what had happened in the closet and then later, with Luka.
I was so angry I was practically shaking like the ice cubes in Stefan’s whiskey glass.
“You know I have to say, for someone who’s so obsessed with the fact that I’m a virgin, you’re pretty fucking prudish yourself,” I said. The wine had made me bold.
I wanted to push him to the edge. Wanted to make him break so I could get past his walls, the way that he had made me break into a million pieces in the closet.
He ignored me, but I could see his shoulders tense. It was working.
“In fact, I bet you couldn’t close the deal if you tried,” I went on.
“If I waited for you, I’d still have my hymen intact for my fiftieth birthday.
But maybe that’s what you want. The big man’s gotta have all the control, right?
Are you a big man, Stefan? Keeping me locked up tight like jewels in a safe so nobody can ever touch me? ”
He turned to face me, anger in his eyes. Good. I wanted him angry. I wanted him pissed.
“Maybe I should call Luka up,” I taunted, knowing it would drive him over the top. “Because if you’re not going to do anything about my virgin status, I know for a fact that he will.”
Suddenly, Stefan was in front of me, grabbing my upper arms with a vice grip.
“While you’re married to me, your body is mine. Nobody else touches you. Do you understand?”
He was breathing hard, his eyes intense.
It was incredibly hot.
“If you ever even speak about giving your body to someone else, I swear to god I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I goaded him. The tension between us was so taut I could almost feel it, like a rubber band about to snap. And yet, I wanted it to break. I wanted to break through the barriers between us. I wanted to make him lose control, give in to me.
His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my cheeks.
“I don’t think you’ll do a goddamn thing,” I said, smirking.
His lips crashed down on mine
It was just like it had been earlier that day. Wild, frenzied, and totally, completely hot. This time, however, we were alone. No one else in our apartment. Nothing was going to stop us from finishing what we had started all those hours before.
Stefan’s tongue was hot on mine. I was ready for more, ready to take what he had to offer. I fumbled for his shirt, wanting to get rid of everything that was between us.
But before I could undo a single button, Stefan’s hands were around my wrists.
“Don’t,” he ordered, forcing my arms up and above my head.
He walked me backwards to the wall, pressing me up against it, green eyes blazing.
I couldn’t have slipped his grasp if I’d tried.
It was so fucking hot to be pinned there, unable to move.
With one hand holding my wrists together, he ran his other down the side of my neck, down over my cleavage until it reached the neckline of my dress.
“Did I pay for this?” he asked.
I nodded wordlessly, my entire body throbbing with need.
With a hard jerk, he ripped the fabric from my body. The dress tore at the seams and fell to the floor, the material crumpling at my feet. I gasped with the shock and pleasure of it all. I stood in front of him wearing nothing but my heels, lace panties, and matching strapless bra.
“You’re mine,” Stefan said, thrusting his knee between my legs, forcing them wide.
His thigh was hard as it pressed almost painfully against me, stimulating my clit, and the sensation was so intense that I almost came from the pressure.
Stefan caught my little groan of pleasure with his mouth, his hand still pinning me to the wall.
I rode his thigh as his other hand tore my bra away, grinding hungrily against him.
I was naked except for my underwear, and just like when we were in the closet before, he was still fully dressed. His hand went to my breast, grabbing my nipple and twisting it roughly. It hurt, but I liked it. I liked it a lot, and I moaned against his mouth.
“More,” I begged.
“You’re mine,” he said, twisting the other nipple. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”
“I belong to you,” I gasped.
His hand left my breast and I let out a sigh of disappointment, one that was quickly silenced as my underwear was torn away and his finger slid down to stroke my clit.
“You’re so wet for me,” he rasped, and then shoved his finger deep inside me.
I cried out. The penetration felt even more intense this time, even deeper now that I had already climaxed just hours ago, and it wasn’t long before he added another finger and was fucking me hard with both of them, my pussy stretching to accommodate their thickness.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled against my throat. “Your soaking wet little pussy is going to feel so good on my cock.”
My knees went weak as he whispered all these dirty, forceful things to me. I wanted all of it. And I wanted it now.
Apparently, he couldn’t wait either, because he released his grip on my wrists.
“Go to the bed,” he ordered, slapping my ass—hard—when I didn’t move fast enough.
I nearly raced across the room, turning to find that he was taking his clothes off with quick, jerking movements.
“Get up on the bed and spread your legs,” he told me. “Leave your shoes on.”
I did as he said, straining my neck to watch him as he peeled off his clothes. Finally naked, he was even more gorgeous than I had imagined, his cock long and rigid and perfectly formed. Something about the sight of it made my mouth water.
He stalked toward the bed, and I spread my legs even wider for him, my heels digging into the down comforter. I wanted this so bad. I was ready to do whatever he wanted.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked, crawling onto the bed.
I nodded, my throat dry.
“Good,” he growled. “Because I’m not going to fuck my wife with a condom.”
He shoved my thighs open until my muscles burned with the stretch, settling himself in between them. I could feel his cock nudging against my sensitive labia, and I swallowed hard. This was it. This was the moment I would lose my virginity.
“Is your sweet little pussy ready for me?” he asked.
I managed a nod, even though I wasn’t sure. He had fucked me with his fingers, but his cock was bigger—so much bigger. Was I ready? My heart was pounding so hard I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, my breaths rapid and shallow.
Clutching the bedsheets, I tried to prepare myself as he rubbed his cock against my wet opening.
He was so hard and so big. I waited for him to shove straight into me, but he didn’t.
Instead, with a surprisingly soft touch, he dragged a finger down my seam.
Then another one. He slipped his fingers inside—two again—but he moved them slowly, savoring my soft moans.
I could feel hot tension building in my core as he fingered me. My back arched as my walls start to relax, and I moved along with the motions of his hand, thrusting in time to his strokes. Then, before I knew what was happening, Stefan withdrew and replaced his hand with the head of his cock.
He slid in slowly, slowly, so slow that I could only squeeze my eyes shut and surrender to the sensation of being filled. I could feel it when he reached maximum penetration, shoving himself all the way in, so thick and hard, stretching me to fit him.
I gasped and opened my eyes, looking down at him, buried deep inside me.
He was big. So big. And it hurt. But it didn’t just hurt. It felt hot and wet and good.
It felt really good.
“Your pussy was made for me,” he murmured against my throat. “Only me.”
“Yes,” I gasped because I couldn’t say anything else. “Yes.”
“You’re mine,” he said, and he began to move, pumping slowly, back and forth. “Your body is mine. Your tight little pussy is mine.”
“Yes,” I groaned, clasping my hands at the back of his neck as he thrust even deeper inside me.
“You’re going to come for me,” he ordered, quickening his pace. “You’re going to come on my cock. Your tight little pussy is going to come for my cock and my cock only.”
“Yes,” I gasped, my hips undulating to meet his every thrust.
Pleasure built inside of me, coiling like a spring. I was close. I was so fucking close.
“No one else will ever touch you like this,” Stefan said, spearing into me, faster now. “No one else will ever make you come the way I will. Come for me, my little kitty cat. Come on my cock.”
“I want to come,” I panted, moaning jaggedly as pleasure spiraled even tighter and hotter at my center. He pumped faster, his tight abs flexing with the effort. “Make me come.”
He was fucking me now, full stop, every stroke hard and deep, no longer going easy on me. As he found his rhythm his eyes went dark with raw, animal lust. I couldn’t keep up, so I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his cock deeper inside me than ever before.
This was everything I’d been waiting for, everything I’d wanted. I could feel myself cresting the wave.
“Make me come, Stefan,” I said. He was looking into my eyes as he fucked me, and I slid a hand down over his heart. “Please. Make me—”
I gasped as the orgasm hit in a sudden torrent, the shockwave surging from my head to my curling toes. My entire body trembled, the deep contractions pulsing at my core. I threw my head back, whimpering, tears pricking at my eyes. I had never felt anything so intense before.
“That pussy is mine,” Stefan asserted, still pounding into my clenching pussy, chasing his own release. “Your pussy is mine.”
“It’s yours,” I moaned, savoring the lingering pulse of my orgasm. “I’m yours.”
His thrusts became sharper, more erratic, his short breaths coming faster. He grabbed my hair and jerked my head back, hungrily kissing my taut throat, my collarbone, my shoulder. I could feel him losing control. It was exactly what I wanted.
“I own you,” he growled.
“Every inch of me,” I panted. “You own me.”
As he shuddered his final thrust into me, I came again with him.