AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With a muffled cry, I come undone, shuddering and shaking, but he’s not done with me. Pulling the toy out of my ass with a slick pop, he penetrates me first with one finger, then two together, the stinging stretch only bearable because of the evil magic his other hand is performing on my clit. It hurts, it burns, yet the pain once again alternates with potent pleasure, heightening it in some peculiar way. Panting, I orgasm again, my ass clamping down on his big, rough-edged fingers, my vision dappling with spots of black and white as a gasping cry escapes my throat.
Before I can recover, he pulls his fingers out of my still-spasming body, and I feel the broad, smooth head of his cock at my opening instead. I tense, my pulse skyrocketing anew, and he runs a reassuring hand down my spine.
“Breathe, zaychik. You can take me.” The words are a soft, deep murmur, as comforting as the gentle petting of my back. Yet the moment he grips my hips and pushes against the tight ring of muscle, the seesaw tips all the way to pain, and I know he’s wrong.
I can’t do it.
He’s way too big for me.
“Nikolai, please, st—” I gasp, the plea catching in my throat as my sphincter gives in under the pressure and the massive head of his cock pops in. All air whooshes out of my lungs, my vision going full black for a dizzying moment. He’s so big and thick it feels as if I’m being split apart, and as he slowly works his cock deeper into me, I’m certain I’m going to faint.
But I don’t. Instead, I feel every long, hard inch of him, experience every bit of the excruciatingly careful invasion. My stomach twists and churns, my skin turning clammy with cold sweat, yet I can’t form the words to call a halt to this, my brain as overwhelmed as my body.
It doesn’t help that he’s leaning over me again, kissing my neck and murmuring soothing endearments into my ear, his smooth voice rough with need. Nor that his skilled fingers are once again toying with my clit, coaxing out sensations that can’t—shouldn’t—coexist with this type of pain. It’s not pleasure, exactly, but something like it, a mix of agony and ecstasy that winds me up anew, wrenching a tortured climax from my body.
I do pass out then, at least for a moment, because the next thing I register is him gliding smoothly in and out of my ass, each thrust generating a sensation of its own, the seesaw once more rocking back and forth, building the powerfully erotic tension. My body floods with heat, my heart rampaging inside my ribcage, and as I come for the fourth time with a ragged scream, he groans and shudders over me, warm jets of cum bathing my sore insides.
Shaken and shattered, I lie there, too weak to move as he withdraws from me and leaves the bed, returning a minute later with a warm, wet towel. He cleans me off, then turns me over and scoops me up into his lap. I force open my heavy lids to find his tiger eyes on my face, studying me with his signature intensity.
Gently, reverently, he cups my cheek, his voice rough as he murmurs, “I’m never going to let you go, you know. Not even if you beg.”
I hold his gaze. “I know.”
“Do you hate me for that?”
I should. However nice this honeymoon has been, the truth is, he forced me into marriage, took away my freedom, my choices. In just about every way that matters, I’m his captive, at the mercy of his darker whims and passions. Yet the lie refuses to leave my lips. Instead, I tell him the truth. “I love you.”
Because I do. As wrong as it is, I love this beautiful, terrifying, complicated man. I love him even as I fear his relentless obsession with me.
I know that in the bright light of tomorrow, I’ll regret this confession, that I’ll think it a mistake. Right now, though, in this softly lit room, with his strong arms around me and my body still pulsing with echoes of the agony and ecstasy he’s put me through, it doesn’t feel like a mistake—especially since the tender smile that blooms across his face is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“And I love you, zaychik,” he says softly. “I always will.”
39
Nikolai
I wake up with Chloe’s small body wrapped in my arms and my brain flush with happiness. The glowing, incandescent kind that feels as flickering and fleeting as the burning wick of a candle.
As I have for the past week since we admitted our feelings, I absorb the feel of her, the sensation of her warm skin pressing against mine, of her delicate curves molding against the hard planes of my body, of her breath fanning over my forearm. And as has been the case for the past week, I battle an urge to wake her and demand the words from her again, so I can hear her soft, husky voice telling me she loves me.
