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“You done?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah.”
He grunts in response, scraping his chair back and throwing the containers away before leading me out of the restaurant.
We drive the rest of the way back to my place in silence, and I cling to the bag of money that he made my mom give me. Malice’s hands are tight on the steering wheel, and I can almost sense some new agitation brewing in him, although I have no idea what caused it this time.
When we reach my apartment building, he rolls to a stop by the curb, staring out the front windshield. I hesitate for a second, anxious to get back to the safety of my apartment and away from the storm that seems to be brewing inside this car. But I can’t seem to make myself move.
Turning toward him, I take a breath, then whisper the words that have been hovering on my lips ever since we left my mom’s place.
“Thank you.”
It leaves my mouth in a whisper that still somehow sounds loud in the car.
Malice’s head whips toward me, something flashing in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything in response, just shoves his door open and gets out. Before I can react to that, he’s yanking open the passenger door and hauling me out too.
Everything about him has turned cold and brutal again, any sign of the kindness from before completely gone.
He presses me up against the side of his car, his expression hard. He narrows his eyes, and his voice is edged with something harsh when he speaks.
“Don’t thank me. And don’t go thinking I’m a good man,Solnyshka. Spinning some kind of fucking fairy tale in your head.”
His hands are tight on my arms as he glares at me. I don’t understand why what I said made him so angry. It’s not the same kind of anger that radiated from him when he confronted my mother, but it’s just as overwhelming. His nostrils flare, and he leans in even closer, looming over me and pinning me between the car and the hard lines of his body.
One of his legs is between mine, and I can’t help the shiver that rushes through me as my clit grazes against his thigh. My body reacts involuntarily, my blood heating and my pulse racing.
Malice freezes, breathing hard.
His jaw tightens, and he leans in more with that leg, grinding his thigh purposefully against my clit. The friction makes me gasp softly, and he grips my jaw, forcing me to look him in the eye.
“You want to know what I really am?” he breathes, his face just inches from mine. “I’m not a fucking hero.”
His words are harsh, but he doesn’t stop leaning into me as he speaks. He shifts his position slightly, wedging his thigh higher between my legs so that it puts friction right where I’m most sensitive, and I whimper softly, biting down on my lip.
My hips roll a little, riding his thigh, and I don’t think I could stop the movement if I wanted to. Jolts of electric heat are lancing through my body, and my face flames from the fact that I’m so close to coming apart, just from his leg pressed against my clit.
Malice doesn’t let up. He keeps grinding against me, those strong fingers still pressed to my jaw.
“I’m nobody’s savior,” he bites out, his voice strained. “I’m a monster. And if you cross me, you’ll find out just what that means.”
I can feel the tide of pleasure growing and growing, and I don’t know if it’s from the movement of his leg or the situation or some fucked up combination of the two. Either way, when I come, it’s with a sharp gasp, my mouth open as I press my hands against the warm metal of the car behind me.
I forget how to breathe for a second, shaking and trembling through the sensations, and Malice watches the entire thing.
His eyes never stray from my face, and he doesn’t move away, making me ride it out against his leg.
As my muscles finally go lax, the tension of the orgasm draining from them, he drops his head, burying his face in my hair as he murmurs something in what sounds like Russian.
“Ty izdayesh’ samyye krasivyye zvuki, kogda konchayesh’.”
He’s breathing hard when he pulls back, his pupils blown wide and his eyes even darker than usual. He doesn’t say anything else, just steps away from me so fast that I nearly fall over, then walks around the car and gets in. I have just enough time to shove myself away from his sleek vehicle before he revs the engine and drives off.
I stand on the curb, staring after the car long after it’s driven off.
My knees are weak, and my clit is throbbing. I can feel the aftershocks of my orgasm coursing through me, and I’m still panting, so breathless from what just happened.
My head is spinning, and if I thought I was confused when Malice bought me lunch, that’s nothing compared to how I feel now.
