Chapter 6
Two weeks ago…
Viktor
There was no other feeling in the world like this one.
Her tight, wet heat clamped around my cock like a silken fist. The way her body trembled beneath my hands, the soft, desperate sounds she made as I drove into her, the way she fought me even as she gave into me. She was a warrior, even in her defeat.
It was the most goddamn beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
I had her on her back now, her legs wrapped around my waist, her body arching into me like a flower reaching for the sun.
Her hands, which had been clenched into fists at her sides, were now gripping my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, the small stab of pain a sweet counterpoint to the pleasure coursing through me.
I started to move, not in a slow, gentle rocking, but a hard, relentless pounding. I pulled out, leaving just the head of my cock inside her, then slammed back in, a merciless thrust that made her cry out. Her head fell back, her throat a long, elegant line I wanted to bite.
So I did.
I leaned in, my teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of her neck, not hard enough to break the skin, but just enough to leave a mark. Her whole body tensed and her hips bucked against me, desperately pleading for more. I gave it to her. I gave her everything.
I set a punishing pace, a brutal, driving rhythm that was designed to break her, to shatter her into a million pieces. I wanted to see her fall apart, to hear her scream my name, to feel her come apart on my cock.
“Look at me,” I commanded.
Her gorgeous green eyes, which had been squeezed shut, fluttered open. They were hazy and unfocused, a beautiful, dazed expression in their depths.
“I want you to watch me while I fuck you,” I ordered. “I want you to see who’s claiming you.”
Her hips rose to meet my thrusts as she moaned for me and my dick throbbed even harder.
I could feel her getting closer. Her body was tightening around me, and she was making it hard for me to hold on. Her breaths were coming in short, ragged pants now, her nails digging a bit harder into my shoulders, her hips rising to meet mine.
“Come for me, kotenok,” I demanded. “Now.”
She did.
Her back bowed off the bed as a scream tore from her throat. Her inner muscles clamped down on me in a series of deep, rhythmic contractions that milked my cock, a desperate, greedy pulling that would soon be my undoing.
“Ah, fuck,” I grunted. “You feel so good, Katya. So fucking tight. So fucking good.”
She shuddered beneath me, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. I watched her face, her expression a mixture of shock, pleasure, and a deep, soul-shattering bliss. I had done this. I had broken her. I had claimed her. And she was magnificent.
I drove into her, my thrusts becoming erratic, my control shattering.
I was lost in her, in the feel of her, the sight of her.
I wanted to stay buried inside her forever, but my body had other ideas.
The pressure was building, a blazing hot buildup of tension in my groin, a desperate, demanding need for release.
“I’m going to come inside this sweet little pussy and you’re going to take every last drop, aren’t you?” I gritted out, my hands gripping her hips, my thrusts becoming shorter, harder, rougher.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at me, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed with arousal.
“Viktor,” she breathed, the word a soft, desperate plea.
Then she stiffened, a flicker of something new in her eyes. A flicker of fear maybe. A sudden, intense clarity that cut through the haze of her desire.
“I’m not… I’m not on anything,” she whispered, the words a damning confession. “No birth control.”
I forgot to breathe for a second. My body froze for a fraction of a second, my mind racing. The logical, responsible part of my brain, the part that wasn’t currently drowning in her, screamed at me to stop. To pull out. To think. To be a fucking adult for two seconds.
The other part, the primal, possessive, reckless part of me, roared with a triumphant, savage joy.
My body made the decision for me.
With a low, guttural groan, I drove into her one last time, burying myself to the hilt, and then I was coming, pouring myself into her in a roaring, shuddering release that left me empty and spent. My cock pulsed, a hot, thick wave of my seed surging into her, flooding her, marking her as mine.
I held myself there, my body shaking, my breath ragged, my entire being focused on the feeling of her, of my cum spilling inside her, of the forbidden, dangerous intimacy of the act.
I should have pulled out. I knew that. But the thought of it, the thought of leaving her, of not claiming her in this most fundamental way, was a physical pain. She was mine. And I would leave a part of myself inside her, a permanent, undeniable reminder of this night, of her surrender.
I collapsed onto her, my weight pinning her to the bed, my face buried in the curve of her neck. She was trembling, her body still shuddering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. I could feel her heart beating against my chest, a frantic, wild rhythm that mirrored my own.
I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I just breathed her in, the scent of her sweat and sex and a faint, sweet perfume that was all her own.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” I murmured, my lips brushing against her skin, kissing along her neck, over the mark I’d left there with my teeth.
A soft, breathless laugh escaped her. “I was trying to be the death of you a minute ago.”
I lifted my head, a lazy grin spreading across my face. I looked down at her, at her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, her beautiful, dazed eyes. She looked thoroughly fucked. It was a good look on her.
“I’m a hard man to kill,” I said, more than a little amused. “But you, kotenok… you’re welcome to try anytime.”
Her gaze softened, the fighter in her retreating for just a moment, revealing a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before. She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw, a hesitant, gentle touch that was more intimate than anything we had just done.
“Viktor,” she whispered, my name a soft, fragile sound on her lips.
My heart did a strange, unfamiliar lurch. I didn’t do soft. I didn’t do vulnerable, but with her looking up at me like that, I felt a new pull that somehow went beyond the physical, beyond the conquest and felt dangerously close to affection.
I leaned down, not to kiss her, not to bite her, but to rest my forehead against hers. It was a gentle, almost tender gesture, and it felt as foreign to me as it probably did to her.
“Get off me,” she said, but there was no real bite to it. Her hands pushed weakly against my chest, more a token gesture than a real attempt to dislodge me. She wanted to push. She needed to push. It was who she was. But she didn’t have the strength at the moment.
“Make me,” I challenged, a low, teasing rumble.
Her eyes narrowed, a flash of her fire returning. Her hands pressed against my chest again, this time with more force. “Get. Off.”
I chuckled, amused. I rolled off her, but only to my side, my arm thrown across her waist, pulling her against me. She was trapped, not in a way that felt threatening, but rather intimate.
She lay stiffly beside me, her body a rigid line of resistance.
I could feel the war raging inside her, the conflict between the agent who needed to reclaim control and the woman who had just been thoroughly dominated.
I didn’t push. I didn’t speak. I just waited, letting the silence stretch between us, letting her feel the weight of my body and the gentle rhythm of my breathing against her back.
Then I felt it.
A slow, deep, undeniable throb of life returning to my cock.
It shouldn’t have been possible. I’d just poured myself into her. My body should be spent, but there it was, a hungry, demanding pulse that was all for her. Her scent, her warmth, the feel of her body pressed against mine—it was a potent cocktail that went straight to my dick.
My cock, already hard again and pressing against her ass, thickened even more.
She tensed, a soft gasp escaping her lips.
She felt it.
Of course she felt it.
“Again?” she asked in a strained whisper. “Wasn’t that enough?”
“With you? Never,” I murmured, my lips brushing her temple.
My hand, which had been resting on her stomach, began to move. I traced the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip, the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her breath hitched, a small, involuntary reaction that told me everything I needed to know.
“You’re sore,” I stated, my fingers ghosting over the reddened skin of her ass. “And you’re sensitive.”
She didn’t answer, but her body did, arching into my touch.
“I’m going to fuck you again,” I said with a sultry grin. “I’m going to make you come so many times you forget your own name.”
Before she could form a retort, I moved.
I was over her in a fluid, economical motion, my body blanketing hers, my weight pinning her to the bed. I captured her hands in one of mine, raising them above her head, pressing them into the mattress. My other hand hooked under her knee, spreading her wide, opening her to me.
“No,” she gasped in a weak, useless protest.
“Yes,” I countered, my cock finding her entrance, the slick, swollen folds still dripping from our last coupling. I slid the head of my cock through her lips, a slow, teasing rub against her clit that made her entire body tense.
She squirmed beneath me, her hips bucking, a desperate attempt to escape the sensations pouring through her. But there was no escape. Not for her. I held her firm, my grip on her wrists unyielding, my body a heavy, dominant weight.
“You’re fighting me,” I observed. “But your body is begging for it.”
“It’s just… a physical reaction,” she panted, her head thrashing from side to side.
I chuckled softly. “Keep telling yourself that, sweet girl. We both know the truth.”
Then I drove into her, burying myself all the way inside her sweet pussy in one smooth, powerful thrust.