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He drove into her again and again, holding onto her hips, spreading her ass cheeks so he could drive deeper, slamming into her until she begged.
“Please… Lyon… I’m going to come… I can’t…”
He thought fleetingly of pulling out, finishing himself off and spilling everything onto her back.
But he couldn’t. Couldn’t fathom leaving her warmth when she was right there, open and begging for him.
He slapped her ass once more. “Come, Kira. I give you permission. Come with me.”
She screamed and shuddered around his cock just as he lost control, pouring into her, hot and frantic. He didn’t recognize the growl that emerged from his throat as her pussy clamped down on his cock, her body trembling as waves of release rolled through her.
“Oh my god… I’m coming…” She said it like it was a revelation, like she couldn’t believe it.
He drove into her until he’d wrenched every tremor from her body, until she’d drawn every drop from his cock.
When it was over, they were both panting, their ragged breath the only sound in the room.
He shoved her away and lay on his back. She sat back on her knees and looked at him, beautiful and tousled, cheeks flushed, nipples erect, the mound of her pussy just visible between her thighs.
If the dictionary had a picture next to the word sex, Kira Baranov in that moment would have been it.
He felt his cock stir to life again and forced himself to focus on her face.
“Do you really hate me?” she asked.
Do you?He stifled the question. He didn’t want to know.
He rolled on his side, giving her his back. “It’s time for you to go.”
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then he heard her get up and gather her clothes from the floor.
A few seconds later, the door closed quietly behind her.
He rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling.
Fuck.
24
It was snowing when they landed back in Chicago, a frigid wind blowing across the tarmac as Kira made her way to the waiting car. The sun was nowhere in sight, but she wore her sunglasses anyway, not wanting Lyon to see her eyes, red-rimmed from crying.
She shouldn’t have been surprised by the way he’d treated her in bed the day before, but it stung nonetheless. It wasn’t just that he’d said he hated her — she’d said it first — it was the way he’d used her.
She hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected it to hurt as much as it had.
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but not that.
She got into the car while Lyon talked to Alek, who’d come to pick them up. Rurik got into the passenger seat and they waited in silence. She liked that about Rurik. She didn’t know him well, but she appreciated that he never expected her to make idle conversation.
In spite of everything, Alek had started to feel more like a friend. Sometimes she had to resist the urge to confide in him.
Lyon and Alek got back in the car and Kira turned her face toward the window as they started out of the charter terminal.
After Lyon told her to leave, she’d spent two hours crying in the luxurious bathroom attached to her bedroom, the water running so Lyon wouldn’t hear her if he happened into the living room.
He hadn’t hurt her. Not physically anyway. That’s not why she was crying.
It had been a relief to have an orgasm, to release the tension that Lyon had built in her body since she’d been home. But she’d missed his tenderness, his gentle touch.
