“Then let me hear it,” Aleksey ordered, his hips driving harder. His grip tightened a fraction, just enough to make me feel it. “Let me hear you say my name.”
My muscles locked up—with my balls tightening and still sensitive from my first orgasm—the pressure coiled low in my groin again. I bucked against him, my free hand clutching his shoulder, nails biting into his skin.
“Aleksey!” I yelled, the sound bouncing off the car windows as my second orgasm of the night ripped through me. I came untouched, the first hot spurt shooting high enough to hit my chin, the second hit my cheek, the force of it surprising even me as my whole body convulsed.
My back arched off the leather, thighs trembling around him while aftershocks jolted through my abs with every continued snap of his hips.
“That’s right,” he grunted, driving deeper. “You’re coming so hard it’s all over your face. You really needed this.”
Aleksey didn’t stop; his hips slamming into me even harder now, each thrust jolting me like he was rearranging everything inside. I gasped with every impact, the backseat creaking under us as he chased his own orgasm, using my body relentlessly.
I watched Aleksey’s face, loving the way his brow furrowed deeper with every stroke, and how his eyes locked on mine like he couldn’t look away.
His breaths turned ragged, chest heaving against me, and I could see the tension coiling tighter in his jaw, the veins in his neck standing out as he got closer. My oversensitive nerves lit up with each pounding stroke, but I savored every second of it.
I wanted to feel him lose it inside of me completely.
“Come on, Aleksey,” I urged, pulling him down for a messy kiss between thrusts, our lips crashing together, tongues tangling briefly before he pulled back to drive in again. “Give it to me. Use me.”
He groaned against my mouth during the next kiss, his rhythm faltering, breaths coming in harsh pants. I felt his muscles lock up under my hands, his grip on my throat tightening just a fraction more as his cock throbbed inside me. I felt him swell and release in hot bursts through the condom, his hips jerking erratically a few more times before he thrust deep one last time and stilled, groaning low against my neck.
Then he bit down on my shoulder hard enough to break the skin, like he was claiming me for good. The sharp sting blended right into my haze of pleasure and exhaustion, leaving a deep, throbbing mark that I knew would last.
I didn’t mind. Hell, I kind of liked the idea of carrying that bruise.
When his body finally relaxed on top of mine, we shifted a bit, staying tangled together in the warm backseat as our ragged breathing filled the quiet car. The heater kept blasting dry air over our skin, and I could feel the sweat cooling on my back against the leather.
Aleksey ran his fingers through my hair, his thumb brushing my damp forehead.
“You’re mine,” he whispered into the quiet, warm space. “I don’t care what it costs.”
He’d said it before, back when it sounded like a warning. And lying there tangled up with him in the dark, I believed every word.
Chapter 16 - Aleksey
Two missed calls from Coach Corby before nine in the morning never meant good news.
I woke to the notifications glowing on my phone screen, the cold bedsheets beside me empty.
Last night, Karter and I had killed the headlights a block from the Ice House, crept up the back staircase one at a time so the old wood wouldn’t groan under our combined weight, then spent a few hours tangled together in the dark before he slipped back to his own room.
But now, I simply lay here staring at the ceiling, my mind still stuck on taking Karter all the way, for the first time. Watching him lose control under me, coming hard and shouting my name—the memory of it messed with my head.
I wanted him so damn much, and realizing I actually needed someone scared the shit out of me.
A third call lit up my phone screen, vibrating against the wooden floor and interrupting those thoughts.
I snatched up my phone, swiped to accept the call, and lifted it to my ear.
“Athletic office. Now.” Coach Corby hung up.
I didn’t freak out. I simply pushed the memories of the backseat out of my mind, threw on some clothes, and headed over to face whatever shit was waiting for me.
Walking into the athletic office did nothing for my growing morning headache. Coach Corby stood near the window withhis arms crossed over his Ridge Cross University quarter-zip, rubbing his head. That usually meant he was pissed.
Meanwhile, Athletic Director Hastings sat behind his massive wooden desk. The room was dead quiet.
I frowned as I crossed my arms. “I’ve got class in twenty minutes. What’s this about?”
