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When she screams my name, her arousal flooding over my tongue, hips bucking as she comes hard on my mouth, I nearly spill over the edge myself. My cock lurches, throbbing dangerously, and I run my tongue over her, lapping up her desire in the last spasms of her climax before I stand up unsteadily, hands still on her hips as I lift her up.
She gasps, her legs going around my waist as I lean her back against the door, one hand fumbling with the zipper of my jeans. I can’t get my cock out fast enough, and I groan aloud at the feeling of her hands clutching my shoulders, the way her mouth opens on a gasp as I nudge my cock between her thighs, pushing her panties aside as I slide into her with one long, hot thrust that makes her scream, still sensitive from her first climax, her head falling back as I start to fuck her hard.
“Oh god–” She tightens around my cock, her entire body clinging to me as I drive myself into her, dizzy with need. One hand clutches the back of her neck, holding her as I kiss her again, desperate for the taste of her mouth, the hot clutch of her body, the pleasure that’s like nothing else I’ve ever felt, and now am sure I never will.
“Come for me,” I gasp, my fingers digging into her hip as I slam into her again and again, the door shaking with the force of it. “Come on my cock,kotenok.”
Her entire body is tense as she cries out, and I feel her clench around me again, the hot ripple of her climax down my cock as I thrust hard, shivering with pleasure as I start to come too, filling her in a hot rush that makes my knees feel as if they could buckle with the pleasure of it.
I pin her to the door as I come, both of us shuddering against each other, gasping. I’m still hard as she flutters around me, and I want more.
It feels like it could never be enough.
I step away from the door, still holding her against me, her legs around my waist and arms around my neck, my cock still buried in her as I carry her up the steps to the room that, at some point, I started to think of asourbedroom.
I’d put the cage up, in case Ruby asked for a tour of the house. I don’t even think of it now. I carry her straight to the bed, spilling us both onto it with me still inside of her, against the pillows as I start to move against her again.
“I want to keep you here all night,” I whisper against her ear, my hand running through her hair. “I want to be inside of you for as long as I can. I never want to let you go.”
There’s no quip from her, no sharp remark, nothing but her sigh of pleasure as I sink into her again, this time slower, savoring the feeling of her wrapped around me. I feel her move with me, her hands sliding down my back, and I know that we’re both pretending.
We’re both choosing to forget, in this moment, everything that we have and should be to each other. It’s not this–slow and gentle sex in a bed that was never really ours. But in the moment, I don’t care.
I want to feel her like this, arched against me as I strip the rest of her clothing and mine away, until there’s nothing but bare skin and hands and mouths, tracing patterns around the bloodstains that mark us and the bed beneath us, the proof that we’re still alive.
That we can stillfeel.
She looks up at me, those blue eyes fixed on mine, and I lose myself in the fantasy for a moment, the idea of her here in a world where none of the past matters and the future isn’t already set, where she’s mine in every real sense of the word. I think of her soft and round with my child, her body given up to me in every way, and I groan with need, thrusting deeper into her as I kiss her, long and hard, and push back the words on the tip of my tongue, words I’ve never said to a woman, and never will.
It’s not real. How I feel in this moment isn’t real. It can’t be. But I let myself feel it, just long enough to know what it tastes like.
It’s as sweet as she is.
She comes around me again, slower this time, arching against me and tangling around me, and I press my forehead to hers as I surge inside of her, my second climax following close behind.
Even then, I stay there wrapped around her, wanting to prolong the moment. Wanting to wait a little longer until we have to go back to reality.
* * *
We stay like that until Natalia finally shifts, looking down at the bloody mess we’ve made of ourselves and the bed. “We should probably clean up,” she says tentatively, and I nod, untangling myself from her as she rolls off. I watch her, half-expecting her to run for the door, but she doesn’t. I think she knows the futility of that.
I know that I need to go back to the way things were, to remind her that she’s under my power, that the fierce passion and tenderness of the past hour was an anomaly, not something she can expect to continue. But despite myself, I don’t want to break the moment just yet.
“Did you recognize the stalker?” I ask her, glancing over as I start to unmake the bed. “Is he someone you knew? One of your father’s men?”
“You mean before you turned his face into a bloody pulp?” Natalia’s mouth twists into a smirk, and it does something to me. It’s one of the few normal conversations we’ve had, as gruesome as it is. I’d avoided it, not wanting her to think of herself as anything other than my captive. But in the fading afterglow, I find myself wanting more. Her conversation. Her company.
Things I have no business wanting from her.
I want tokeepher. Not just because of the twisted game I’ve been playing with her, but because she’s a woman like no other woman I’ve ever met. In all the world, I think she’s the only one who could ever be a match for me. The only one who could ever hold my attention, who could handle what I would want to give to her–todoto her.
“No,” she says finally, dragging me out of my wandering thoughts. “I’ve never seen him before in my life. It makes me think he’s someone from the club–someone obsessed, someone I danced for and then forgot because he was unmemorable.”
Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and she holds my gaze for a moment.
“You didn’t forget me,” I say quietly, and she laughs under her breath.
“No, I didn’t. I don’t think I could.”
