He pulls his fingers out and steps back while I relax for a moment. Then I hear the rustle of fabric as his shirt comes off and lands on the floor. Then his bare chest presses against my back and his heat has me arching into him as he shoves his boxers and pants down then kicks them aside.
When he presses against me again there's nothing between us but a thin sheen of sweat on my body. "You ready?" he asks.
"Fuck yes," I tell him, fingers already moving on my own clit again.
Kazimir lines up and pushes forward and the first inch of his dick pushing into me steals the air from my lungs. I groan and grit my teeth, trying hard not to be too tense. He holds there, trembling, giving me time to adjust. I can feel the effort it takes him to stay still, and his breathing comes in heavy rasps. He wants this, and holy fuck, do I want it too.
"Keep going," I say through gritted teeth.
He sinks deeper. Inch by inch, the stretch burns and opens into a pressure that fills me in a way nothing else ever has. When he bottoms out, we both go still. I'm panting and whimpering, wishing he would start moving already. It's so intense I don't know if I should moan or cry, but I want to know what it feels like when he fucks me.
"You feel unreal," he growls before he bites down on my shoulder.
"Move, Kaz," I whimper. "Please fuck me."
He pulls back and pushes in again. I moan and my hands slide down the wall as he builds a fast rhythm. The sensation is overwhelming—tight, full, electric heat radiating from my center into my thighs and through my stomach.
"Talk to me," he says behind me. "Tell me how it feels."
"Oh, my God, it's so intense." I press my cheek against the wall. "You're so fucking huge."
He groans and his pace picks up. His grip tightens on my hips, pulling me back onto him with every thrust. He's an animal, taking what he wants without apology, and every few seconds he bites and sucks my skin, soothing it with the pass of his tongue when I yelp.
"Harder," I tell him.
He snaps his hips forward and the force drives me into the wall. I brace one hand against the plaster and push back into him. Every thrust hits deeper and the burn has turned into pure pleasure now, this dark rolling heat that builds until I'm gasping and groaning, unable to make an intelligent sound.
And I keep rubbing my clit, so close to the edge I might lose control any second.
"Oh, my God, Oh, my God!" I pant, and he growls against my shoulder.
"I know," he says, "let go."
My whole body detonates. The orgasm rips through me from my core outward, different than the first, pulling from a place I didn't know existed. My walls clench and release in violent pulses while my legs shake. A scream tears out of me that comes with drool and cursing. I'm sobbing through every wave while he keeps fucking me so hard, I may not walk tomorrow.
When Kazimir groans my name, I know he's done. His hips slam forward and he buries himself deep. Then I feel him pulse inside me in long, hot surges that keep coming. Tiny grunts of pleasure bubble up and out as he pumps more slowly, pushing my aftershocks, making me twitch.
Then his forehead drops against my shoulder and his arms lock around my waist while he empties himself. I feel every hot pulse of his dick and let my body relax a little. It doesn't hurt at all anymore. All that stretching and burning has resolved to so much pleasure, I don't want him to stop.
But he starts to go soft, and then he pulls out and turns me around, capturing my lips with his. His hands stay splayed on the wall on either side of my head while I wrap my arms around him and I'm lost in him. In this moment. In everything I crave and desire out of life and I know I can't have because I want it with him.
"Feel good?" he asks, nipping my lower lip.
"Incredible," I tell him, and I don’t have to fake that. That was the best sex of my life.
"Wait right there," he whispers before kissing me again. Then he disappears into the bathroom and I hear the faucet run.
I walk on wobbly legs to the bed and turn the covers down. It's cold as I slip between the sheets, still feeling the buzz of afterglow. Kazimir isn't just good at sex, though I'm not complaining about his ability to make me feel incredible. He's also warm and funny, and that line about John Dryden wrecked me. I lie down and let my eyes shut as a grin stretches over my face.
When he comes back, he's cleaned up and his hands are warm and damp. He climbs into bed beside me and pulls me against his chest, fingers pushing the hair off my forehead as he tilts my chin up and kisses me softly.
"I love you, Zora," he whispers, making eye contact as he says it. It comes out against my mouth, mumbled between kisses, but he pulls back and looks at me. There is a hint of surprise on his own face, as if he never meant to say it out loud, but that makes it that much sweeter. And painful—God, I feel guilty.
"I, uh…" I can't say it back to him. I know I might be feeling something, but to say those words aloud would be to make hispain ten times worse when this is over. I can't look him in the eye and tell him I care about him, then double-cross him and stab him in the back. My eyes well up as I fight back the words, and he smiles.
"It's okay. You don't have to say it back. I just wanted you to know how I feel."
He exhales and presses his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. We lie there for a while, his fingers running through my hair, and then he starts talking about the last few weeks. About Roman coming down on him over the bettors. How he had to stand in that office and hand over his phone and prove he didn't send those messages, and how Timur still can't figure out what happened.
