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It doesn’t take long and yet it feels like it’s a lifetime that I stand at the end of the bed, my hands balled into fists as I wait for Ruslan to knock on the door. Except he doesn’t knock. The door makes a clicking noise, then it opens.
The door doesn’t open in a slow swing, it’s more like a quick burst. Then he’s there. Standing on the threshold. He takes a step into the room, then another before he slams the door behind him. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to.
Ruslan rushes toward me, one arm sliding around my waist, the other cups my cheek before his mouth slams down against mine. The kiss is hard, consuming, perfect. It bruises my lips, it marks me in more ways than one. And I’m not even upset, I love it.
He doesn’t deepen the kiss, but when he breaks it, he rests his forehead against mine. I don’t know if his eyes are open or closed, mine are closed as I let out a long exhale. Before I realize what’s happening, he shoves my shorts down my legs. They pool at my ankles as he shreds the sides of my panties, then rips them from my body.
Ruslan picks me up by the backs of my thighs, his mouth finding mine again as he spins me around and marches me toward the closed bedroom door. My back hits the door with a soft thud and then he’s inside of me.
I don’t know when or how he was able to free himself, but I don’t care either. Because the moment he is buried completely inside, I let out a sigh of relief. I’m alive. He stills, lifting his head, he looks into my eyes.
Neither of us speaks. We stare at one another. Then his lips curve up into a grin and he pulls out of me slightly before slamming back inside. One stroke, then two, three, and he stills again with a groan.
“You’re okay?” he rasps, the first words that he’s said to me.
“I’m okay,” I confirm.
He dips his chin, his mouth touching mine. “Good.”
Then he fucks me.
It is hard, as hard as his kiss. It’s ruthless, it’s bruising, and it’s perfect.
I’m alive.
I’m okay.
I’m not glass.
I did not break, and I never will.
Even if I felt like I might—I didn’t.
His thrusts are erratic, his eyes on mine. His jaw is clenched as he looks down at me, his nostrils flared as he attempts to hold back his release. I can see it just behind his eyes. He is ready to come. He wants to come, but he’s holding back for me.
I’ve never done this before, not with a man. Azar would have probably hit me for initiating anything like this. But I feel safe with Ruslan. Slipping my hand between us, two of my fingers touch my clit.
His lips curve up into a grin before he tips his chin down to look between us. He watches as he fucks me, and I touch my clit. My breathing starts coming out faster as I watch him, watching me touch myself.
I’m climbing even closer to the edge, so damn close that I whimper before I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. I don’t want whoever is in the other room to hear, but at the same time, I want those bitches to know that I am enjoying myself now… thoroughly.
It doesn’t take me long to reach the edge, to fall over, to come. It’s hard and fast, my pussy clamping down around him and then pulsing as the rest of the muscles in my body tremble.
He doesn’t stop though and I don’t want him to.
His thrusts are faster, harder, and then he buries himself deep inside of me, shoving his face in my neck as he lets out a moan against my throat.
My arms wrap around his shoulders tighter as I hold him close to me. I don’t want him to ever leave. His hips are still moving, fucking me in slow, lazy, even strokes. Eventually, he lifts his head, his eyes finding mine.
“You’re okay,” he says, speaking softly.
“I’m okay.”
His lips touch mine in a brush of a kiss. “Good. Now, let’s deal with the situation in the living room.”
Laughing softly, I let out an exhale as he pulls out of me. He takes a few steps backward as he helps me stabilize my feet against the floor. “That was my last pair of clean panties. I only have three,” I whisper as I watch him bend down and finger the soft lace.
“We’ll fix that in the next few days. Got a lot of shit to handle. One thing at a time, yeah?” he asks.
