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She moans, gasping, and I surge forward once more, feeling her envelop me, clenching around me. Then there’s nothing but the most exquisite, burning pleasure as I feel the first hot rush of my cum explode from my throbbing cock.
I throw my head back, groaning aloud, hips pumping wildly as I empty myself into her. I feel her nails in my chest, feel her arching, grinding, and I grind against her, wanting to sink into her even more deeply if I were able to. It feels so fucking good, her heat pulsing around me as I come, and I stay buried inside of her until every last drop of cum has spilled inside of her, my cock still throbbing with the aftershocks of my orgasm and her still pulsing with hers.
I slump forward on my forearms, trying not to crush her as I catch my breath. “You’re mine,” I whisper against the shell of her ear. “And God help any man who tries to say otherwise.”
CATERINA
A few minutes earlier
From the moment Viktor scoops me up in his arms and carries me towards the cabin, I know where this is headed.
I just can’t quite believe it.
I don’t know how he can want me so much. He’s seen what my naked body looks like now. He’s seen how thin I am, almost to the point of scrawniness. He just watched me kill a man. But I can feel the need practically radiating off of him, burning into my skin as he strides into the cabin and down the hall that I know leads to the bedrooms. My heart is pounding in my chest as I stiffen in his arms, unsure if I want to let this happen or not. If this is something I want.
I know it’ll change things between us if I do. I can’t claim there’s a “before” the kidnapping and “after” if I do this. But I can feel the adrenaline pulsing through me, sparking over my skin like electricity, and I feel as if I’ll explode if I don’t have some release. If I don’t get all of this emotion out somehow.
Emotion—and desire, too. I want to pretend that part of the reason why my heart is racing and my skin is prickling isn’t that Viktor is holding me tightly in his arms, against his broad chest, the scent of his sweat and skin filling my nose.
I start to say his name, telling myself that I should protest, that I should come up with a reason to stop this, to tell him to take me back to my own room. But he shakes his head, his face set in taut, stern lines, and something about the look in his eyes makes anything else I might have said die on my lips, my heart pounding so hard that I think he must be able to hear it.
He isn’t going to be told no, and something about that thrills me. I know Ishouldif only because of the state my body is in. I’m still wounded, still healing, exhausted from the training and the highs and lows of the afternoon. But I know that he’s going to carry me to bed and remind me of all the reasons why I shouldn’t let him.
And that thrills me and terrifies me all at once.
I can’t help but gasp when he lays me back on the bed, leaning over me as he follows me onto the bed, the length of his body stretched over mine. This close, he’s even more of an intimidating presence, his darkly handsome face taut and his eyes bright with desire. Hewantsme, I can see it, and I can’t understand it. I can’t understand why he would want me still after all of this, but it’s very clear that he does.
And then he kisses me, hard and firm and demanding, his mouth grinding down onto mine with an eager passion that takes my breath away. I hesitate for a second longer, still and frozen underneath him.
Just let go. Just this once. You can say it was the adrenaline, that you got swept away. Give in, just for a little while.
My arms go around his neck, almost without my meaning for them too, and I’m kissing him back with equal fervor, my mouth hot against his as I pull him down to me. I can feel the quick panting of his breath, the way his mouth slants over mine, his lips crushed against my teeth, his grazing against my lower lip with the hint of a bite that makes me gasp aloud again.
My hands fist in his shirt, gripping the fabric as if I can’t get close enough to him, and when he moves between my legs, they part for him, and I feel how hard he is. He’s straining against his jeans, hard, long, and thick, and I remember all too well how it felt to be filled by him, stretched and full and fucked in a way that no other man has ever managed. I kiss him back fiercely, arching up to grind against him, my own heat radiating out as I revel in the feeling of him hard and straining for me, his tongue pushing into my mouth desperately, as if all he wants in the world is to taste me.
All I’ve ever wanted in my life is to be desired, wanted, loved for myself. It’s always been nothing but a silly dream because whoIam, myself, at my core, doesn’t matter to anyone. What matters is my station, my family, my name, the power that I can give a man through a marriage alliance, as if we lived centuries ago instead of in the modern world. This moment, with Viktor, makes me almost feel as if he wants me for nothing but myself. Not my beauty, clearly, and maybe not even because of who I am.
It’s a fantasy. But it’s one that I’m hungry for, desperate for, and I want so badly to give myself over to it that I can’t stop myself. I can feel the adrenaline and need and desire coiling together inside of me, ready to explode, making me feel as if I’m coming out of my skin, as if I can’t breathe. The only thing I can think of that can salve any of it right now is Viktor inside of me, fucking me, making me feel wanted.
I don’t want him to wait, to go slow, even if it hurts. I don’t even want him to wait long enough to take off my clothes. Clearly, he has the same idea because his hand is already on the waist of the ridiculous men’s sweatpants that I’m wearing, pulling them down, his knuckles grazing my hip in a way that seems to shoot electricity straight between my legs. I feel a gush of warmth there, arousal flooding through me and making me wetter than I’ve ever been, heat gathering in my core until I feel as if I might burn up from the inside out.
Viktor groans against my mouth as he pulls them off and I kick them free, his fingers sliding up my inner thigh to where I’m bare, my skin damp and hot and flushed. I moan when he touches me there, his fingers grazing over the hair that he once ordered me to shave off, the sticky flesh of my inner thigh. I can hear myself whimpering, almost begging him for more, and I can’t stop myself. I feel like I’m floating on a wave of adrenaline and emotion, and I know I shouldn’t give in to it, but I don’t want to stop.
This can be the only time,I tell myself.Just this once.I don’t know if Icouldstop now, even if I talked myself into it. My body seems to have a mind of its own. I moan again as Viktor yanks at his belt, undoing the buckle and his zipper with quick, fumbling movements that let me know exactly how desperate he is to be inside of me. I feel it lurch against my inner thigh as it springs free of his jeans, his hand wrapping roughly around himself as he surges forward between my thighs.
I gasp at the feeling of him pushing between my folds, hot and throbbing, and I’m so wet that he slides in instantly, groaning with a sound that’s somewhere between pleasure and pain. I know he isn’t going to go slow, and I don’t want him to. I want to be fucked, to forget everything except for the feeling of him inside of me and the pleasure that I know he can give me, to give myself over to it instead of fighting it. I can feel him forcing his way into my slender body, filling me, and I spasm around him, crying out in that same mixture of pleasure and pain that made him groan a moment ago. I break the kiss, fingers twisting in his shirt as my eyes go wide at the feeling of him impaling me.
He goes very still, every inch of his thick, rigid length buried inside of me, and I look from the taut, straining lines of his face down to where my fingers are curled in the fabric of his shirt. It’s spattered with blood—maybe Andrei’s, maybe Stepan’s, maybe both—and I see that there’s blood on my fingers too, around the edges of my nails. It sends a shudder through me, but it’s not a shudder of revulsion.
That adrenaline rushes through me again, hot and wild, a reminder of what we just did, of the revenge he offered me and that I took. My hands tighten in his shirt again, my body shaking with the force of the emotion that sweeps over me.
We’re bound together now by something deeper than wedding vows, something more than sharing bodies or a bed. I hadn’t wanted to take those vows that I said at the altar, but I’d wanted to do what I’d done today. I’d wanted to kill Stepan, and Viktor had given me the means to do it.
I killed someone today, and Viktor was there to witness it. He’d been the reason we had at all.
And something about him fucking me right afterward, taking me straight to bed and letting all of this emotion wash over him, feels more intimate than our wedding night.
I drag him back down, my chin tipping up as I grab the back of his head, my fingers knotting in his hair as I pull his mouth down to mine. I kiss him, hot and hard, tongue in his mouth and teeth in his lower lip, fingers digging into his scalp as I feel him shudder above me. My legs wrap around his thighs as he starts to thrust, hard and fast, and I can feel myself soaking his cock, so wet that he slips in and out with ease, slamming into me as he sinks into me again and again. I can feel that he can’t slow down. I arch up with every thrust into me, taking him as deeply as I can, reveling in the slam of his body against mine as my legs tighten around him.
