Chapter 6 #2
Her back arched, and her muscles clamped down. I could feel her clenching around me. It was a blissful, torturous agony and I couldn’t get enough.
“Viktor,” she cried, her body trembling uncontrollably.
“Shh,” I murmured, my lips brushing her ear. “Just feel. Just let me take care of you.”
I started to move then, a gentle, rocking rhythm that was meant to build her pleasure gradually. I wanted to draw this out, to make this last, to push her to the very brink of her endurance and then some.
“You feel that?” I asked. “That’s how badly your body wants me. That’s how badly you need this.”
She didn’t answer, but her body did. Her hips rose to meet my thrusts. Her nails dug into my shoulders. Her mouth opened and a breathy moan escaped her.
I could feel the tension building in her again. Her body was becoming a bowstring, drawn tighter and tighter, waiting for the release that only I could give her.
“Don’t you dare fight it,” I commanded, my thrusts becoming harder, deeper. “Give it to me. All of it.”
I drove into her more quickly now, my hips slapping against her sore, sensitive skin with each thrust. The sounds were obscene, wet and rhythmic, and it was the most goddamn beautiful music I’d ever heard.
She broke.
A raw, ragged cry was torn from her throat. Her body convulsed in a violent, shuddering spasm that was pure, unadulterated ecstasy. I could see it written all over her face.
“That’s it,” I grunted, my own release building at the base of my spine. “That’s my girl. Come for me.”
Her pussy fluttered around my cock, milking me and pushing me closer to the edge.
This woman was going to make me come again.
I was lost in her, in the feel of her, in the sight of her. The pressure was a firestorm, a white-hot coil of need demanding release.
I leaned down, my forehead resting against hers, my breath ragged in her ear. “I’m going to fill this sweet little pussy again, kotenok,” I growled. “I’m going to make you mine.”
Her body was still trembling from the force of her climax, her limbs lax, her breath coming in soft, sated pants. She was boneless and pliant, a beautiful, broken thing. I loved her like this. Loved the power I had over her, the trust she had given me, even if she didn’t know she was doing it.
My movements became more focused. I was chasing my own need now, using her body for my own release. I grasped her hip harder, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, sure to leave bruises.
She was so wet, so hot, so tight. Her inner muscles were still spasming around me and driving me insane. I could feel the pressure building at the base of my cock, beyond my control.
I needed to come again.
“Ah, fuck,” I grunted, my hips pistoning in a relentless, driving rhythm. “Katya… I’m going to…”
That’s when I felt it.
Not the soft scrape of her nails against my shoulders, the kind of sweet, stinging pain I was expecting. This was more than that. This was an intense, white-hot line of fire that erupted across the back of my shoulder.
I froze.
My breath caught in my throat, not from pain, but from sheer, unadulterated shock.
I slowly lifted my head, still buried deep inside her. I looked down at her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips parted, her expression one of intense concentration.
A slow, wicked grin spread across my face.
Yes.
This.
All of this.
She was marking me. Claiming me. The soldier, the warrior, the woman who fought against everything, was finally, truly participating. She was leaving her own mark, her own brand, on my skin.
“Fuck, yes,” I growled. “That’s it. Mark me, baby. Make me yours.”
My hips started to move again. I was no longer just fucking her. I was rejoicing in her. Celebrating this wild, beautiful, ferocious woman that had just given me everything I could ever want and more.
I leaned down, my lips brushing her ear. “Did you think I’d be scared of a little scratch?” I teased. “I like that sort of thing.”
She tensed. She hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected me to welcome it, to revel in it.
I drove into her, making her whole body shudder with desire. “But that’s not what this is, is it?” I continued, my voice dropping to a whisper. “This isn’t about pain. This is about making me yours, the same way I made you mine. Are you marking me as yours, my beautiful Katya?”
I could feel the fight draining out of her, the tension in her body slowly unwinding.
Her hands, which had been claws against my back, relaxed, her palms flattening on my skin.
She wasn’t fighting me anymore. She was touching me.
I let her touch me. Let her explore. I kept my movements slow and steady, each thrust casually taking every part of her and making her mine.
The sting on my back was a dull throb now, a constant, grounding reminder of the ferocity of our connection, of the thin line between pleasure and pain we were dancing on.
“I’m going to come inside you again,” I murmured. “I’m going to mark you from the inside out, until you can’t think about anything else. Until all you can feel is me.”
I was claiming her soul, her mind, her heart.
Her hips began to move again, tentatively rocking to match my own rhythm. She was taking an active part now, not just a passive recipient of my desire.
It was the single hottest thing I’d ever experienced.
Then she surprised me again.
Her hands, which had been resting on my back, slid up, her fingers tangling in my hair. She pulled my head down, her lips finding mine in a desperate, hungry kiss.
I came undone.
I’d been the one in control. I’d been the one leading this dance, this assault on her senses, but in that moment, she took the lead. She became the aggressor. And it was the most goddamn intoxicating thing I’d ever felt.
Her kiss, her touch, her body moving in sync with mine, it was all too much.
“Ah, fucking hell,” I grunted against her lips. “Katya…”
My entire world came undone as pure pleasure exploded from the base of my spine, surging out of me and into her sweet, needy pussy, connecting us in the most intimate way possible.
She drained the life out of me, and I knew I would never be the same again.