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He wrapped his fingers around his dick and began to work from the base up to the tip, then back down again.

“Lie back down,” he said.

I lay on the bed and spread my legs. This was what I did on our wedding night.

The bed dipped down, and I couldn’t help but tense up.

“On our wedding night, I was an asshole. I didn’t like that I had to give them the sheets after I had you.” He kissed my thigh and I jolted.

Opening my eyes—I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them—I stared up at him, waiting.

He moved between my thighs, and I held myself perfectly still.

“I didn’t get you to enjoy it and that’s my fault. The next time, you were completely dry and I used lubrication.” He reached down between us and I felt the hard tip of his cock as it brushed between my slit.

He nudged my clit, and I couldn’t contain my gasp as he touched just the right spot, causing me to arch up.

“Today, there is going to be no need for lube. No dirty bastards waiting to see the evidence of your virginity.” He placed the tip at my entrance, and I paused. “And no pain either.”

He slammed to the hilt inside me. I’d been expecting the pain, but nothing came.

No tear.

No hurt.

Just the hard tip of him sliding inside me, and it felt amazing.

Slavik smiled down at me. “And this is how it’s going to be.”

He pulled out of me until only the tip of him remained before plunging back inside, fucking me hard and fast. After a few thrusts, he stopped, holding himself deep within me.

Neither of us said a word. I couldn’t look away from him nor did I want to. This was so different from anything else I’d ever experienced. Slavik surrounded me and filled me in ways I didn’t think were possible.

Consumed.

Delighted.

I felt his hands on my hips, holding me still as he pulled out of me. “Watch me.”

There was nothing dirty within those words and yet, I felt hot all over.

I stared down at where he held himself deep within me. The length of him was naked, covered with my arousal.

Biting my lip, I try to contain my pleasured cries as he pounded within me.

One. Two. Three. Four. He fucked me hard. The bed hitting the wall with the force of the thrusts.

He put his hands on my shoulders, pinning me to the bed.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

I circled his waist and the depth took my breath away. He was big, but I hadn’t realized how much. Each time we’d had sex, I wished it would end. Not today.

The way he rode my body, driving in deep, I couldn’t think.

“Fuck, baby. That’s it.”

I didn’t know what he expected from me, but I couldn’t look away. The way he stared at me. The sheer power of his body as he drove inside me. He plunged inside one final time, and I felt each pulse as he came inside me.

This time, he stayed within me. His touch lightened and he stayed over me. He opened his eyes. There was no desire to look away. No hatred.

This was sex.

I … had no idea it could be this way.

We were both panting.

He leaned to the side, but his cock was still deep within me. “You want to be fucked?”

It wasn’t the most romantic way to end a sexual encounter.

“Don’t you want to leave?” I frowned.

“No.”

His cock had gotten soft, but even flaccid, I felt him. This was … strange.

“I, I don’t know what I want.”

“You wanted sex. I saw the way you were with Cara. You’re not afraid.”

“She was a woman, and to be honest, I didn’t know what she was doing until afterward. I enjoyed it too much to make it stop.” I covered my face with my hands. Was this a normal conversation to be had?

“I thought you were afraid and didn’t want sex.”

“What?”

“Our wedding night and the time after.”

“We’ve been married for eight months. You didn’t think to, I don’t know, tell me it could be better between us? It’s not like I’ve got some kind of roadmap for this. I don’t know what I’m doing. Everything I know is from the books I read and the classes I took at school.” Even then there hadn’t been a whole lot of information. My mom had always been vague about what went on between a man and woman.

The books made me yearn for something more. Not an abusive relationship. I witnessed that between my parents. I wished for something better.

Slavik cupped my cheek, turning me to face him. “Talk to me.”

“How?”

“Use your words.”

I burst out laughing. “Isn’t that what they say to kids?”

“You’re behaving like one.”

“We just had sex. You don’t want to be thinking of me as a kid,” I said. This was bizarre. Was this a normal conversation between a man and wife?

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