“Let me go!” But my hips arch to get him deeper. My body is softening to accommodate him, and the pressure of his very substantial cock—I can tell that even though I’m a virgin—is putting on the underside of my clit is amazing.
His grip tightens on my wrists, and as he brings his hand to my neck and spans it, my pussy gushes with embarrassing wetness.
The dominance of the move is undeniable.
“You be a good girl for me as I fuck you,” he rasps, then lowers his head to my ear again. “Mercy. Say mercy and I’ll stop.”
A reminder as he lifts his hips slowly then thrusts back in, hard.
But I’m so wet that this time when he’s balls deep there’s no pain at all, only the most delicious sensation of being filled and overwhelmed. He’s totally in control of my body, and I’m so messed up, I love it. Being pinned by his bulk and heat and his icy-blue eyes is sending pleasure skittering over my skin.
“Mm.” He grips my throat just hard enough to send a pulse of adrenaline through me, then slides his hand down to grab my breast.
He has a long scar on his forearm, beneath the tattoos, and his hand is so big that it looks obscene. I’m endowed with fried eggs, small to his big. The eggplant he’s packing between his legs is devastating. My eyes flick to the mirror and yeah.
Even hotter. Seeing him over me, the sheet hiding where he’s splitting me open, but the size difference between us clear, sends a shower of sparkling ecstasy through me.
I haven’t ever orgasmed—when would I have the privacy to experiment?—but I know the theory. Sex, clitoris, feels good?
The reality is different. Every part of me responds as Kon flicks his thumb over my nipple and looks down at my face with undisguised but savage delight.
I’m twitching involuntarily, my body entirely his as he takes me over and over, ramming his huge cock into me. There’s no resistance now. He’s reshaped me. And he slams into me harder, interspersing quick, shallow strokes with deep plunges.
He makes me wild with a pent-up desire I didn’t know I had.
“You fit me so perfectly,” he says, voice hoarse. “Such a good little slut.” And despite the insult, it sounds like praise.
This submission to him, this fight between us, is everything. He couldn’tresistme. I made him lose himself and do something unspeakable.
Me. The plain brunette no one has ever wanted that much.
It’s heady. It’s a type of power I didn’t know I had. And being held by Kon is such a relief of all I’ve had to hold together for all these years that I could sob, even as the pleasure twists higher between my legs.
“You going to come on my cock?”
The vulnerability of being stretched out, my hands pinned by one of his above my head beats through me. The matching rhythm of his cock pistoning, my heartbeat, and the ecstasy building, is intense.
“Such a good girl, taking me so well.”
And although his compliment lights me up, the possessive kneading of my breast and the way he’s breathing heavy and ragged make it even better. He wants me. He’s strong enough to overcome all my fears.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Made for me, zhizn moya.” He spills out more words in Russian that I don’t understand. He talks fast, and with an accent I’m not familiar with.
I’m sure I’ll be ashamed afterwards of how turned on I am. But for now, all I feel is needy. Desperate. Reaching for a peak.
“Spread yourself wider for me,” he rasps, dragging his free hand roughly down my side and to my thigh. But I’m already opening for him.
And my heart does a pirouette as I realise what he’s doing.
“Going to hold you open and fuck you hard.” The words are for our audience, coarse and dirty, but they work for me too.
Especially since he doesn’t grip my thigh. Nope. He lets me do that, opening up more, and it’s even better, more sensitive and my pussy clenches. Kon reaches between my legs, cramming his fingers down, and onto that hidden nub.
“That’s it, take it,” he urges me in a gravelly voice. It sounds like he means his cock, in a lewd, dominant way. But the touch to my clit and the honest entreaty in his gaze make it feel different to me, in the tiny slice of privacy that is the inches between our bodies. To my ears, it’s like he’s telling me to come. To have what pleasure I can from this messed-up situation we’ve ended up in.
My enemy. My first lover. My saviour? My… My heart whispers something else, something impossible that I don’t believe.
“Reach for it, Taylor,” he says more softly. “Come.” Before he presses a kiss to my lips, his tongue plunging into my mouth in a blatant echo of what he’s doing with his cock.
