Page 106 of Nemesis

After taking a moment to adjust, she begins to squirm on my length, experimentally grinding her clit against me.

“That.” Her throat bobs. “Do that again. Please.”

I start thrusting in earnest, pulling out and slamming back into her tight pussy. Her high moans echo through the small room, creating a delicious cacophony. My own orgasm pulls at the base of my spine, hardening my dick to a steel fucking rod.

She starts riding me faster, meeting my thrusts head-on with matched passion. When she reaches her peak, muscles squeezing impossibly tighter around me, I follow right after her, exploding into her cunt. The door rattles behind the weight of my thrusts.

My cum paints her inner walls as the bliss floats through my body.

I can’t speak. Can’t let go of my tight grip around the angel in my arms. All I can do is exhale ragged gasps and breathe her in.

My arms rake over her back in comforting swipes, waiting for her to pull her face back and flash me those dazzling eyes. I need those green gems like an addict needs his next fix. When a few minutes go by, and her chin is still tucked into my neck, my stomach turns.

“Octavia,” I murmur, trying to pull her back and catch a glimpse of her face. She resists, causing my instincts to run rampant. I went too hard. Too much.

I hurt her.

“Octavia,” I say again, a little more force in my tone. “Did I hurt you? I did, didn’t I?” Panic seeps into my tone, vibrating my arms as I pull her closer.

“Not at all,” she whispers, but then a sharp sniff cuts through the air.

No. No, no, no.

I capture the back of her neck with one hand, and when I meet her wet eyes, my panic flares.

“Please. You have to tell me what hurts so I can fix it,” I beg, swiping a rogue tear from her cheek with my thumb.

“Nothing, Vas, I promise,” she says, punctuating the unconvincing statement with another little sniffle. “It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s me…” She tucks her chin in an adorable attempt to hide from me, as if I wasn’t just inside her minutes before. “I didn’t…I guess…”

Didn’t what?

“Tell me,” I whisper, lowering my forehead to hers. I know she came. I could fucking feel every second of her orgasm.

“I-I guess some part of me never truly believed it could ever feel good.”

My heart rips open. I can hear the second part she chose not to say out loud. For someone like me.

She didn’t think sex could feel good for someone like her.

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. How am I supposed to speak normally after hearing something so horrifying?

“They’re overwhelmed tears, okay? No regret,” she says quickly, narrowing her shiny gaze to mine. “Don’t you dare spin this into regret. I think I’m owed a tiny breakdown, all things considered.”

Not hurt. I didn’t hurt her.

I feel like I’m learning to breathe all over again.

“Anyone would be overwhelmed,” I say, pulling her face closer with a hand on each cheek. “You can have all the breakdowns you need, so long as they happen in my arms.”

Another wet sniff breaks through the air at my words. I pull her into me, holding her so tight, my arms pinch with strain. This time, when she breaks into a silent sob in the curve of my neck, I’m no longer terrified of pulling back to see regret lining her eyes. She can break apart. I will glue every piece back together.

We didn’t really do the whole family dinner thing in the Morozov clan.

The closest we ever got to such a ritual was the numerous times I’d mouth off in front of my uncle, who’d promptly grab me by the ear, drag me to an empty room, and toss in a stale slice of bread to serve as my meal for the night.

Since my mother never cared to be around, Uncle took over what he called the child-rearing, a funny way to refer to the constant beatings I was saddled with.

At some point, I assumed every syndicate family was raised the same way ours was.