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The connection I feel with him is profound, and a deep contentment seeps into my bones, telling me that everything is good and right in the world. That Pyotr is, in truth, surprisingly perfect for me. Against all odds, and even though we are being forced into marriage, I actually think it might be a good thing. No. Better than good.
It feels like this just might be meant to be.
Pyotr carefully eases out of me, and the throbbing emptiness he leaves behind, along with the lingering pain of losing my virginity, tells me I’ll never be the same. I’m a woman now, in every sense of the word. I chose to end this perfect weekend with such a monumental experience. Knowing that brings me an intense feeling of freedom I hadn’t expected.
It’s as though the very thing I’ve felt so trapped by–a marriage to someone I didn’t choose–has somehow actually liberated me from my father’s chokehold.
Pyotr rolls onto the bed beside me, and I scoot closer to him, resting my cheek on his chest as I listen to his heartbeat. It pounds strong and fast, full of vitality. I close my eyes, suddenly drowsy after such an intense experience, and relaxed enough I could easily fall asleep.
He told me he loved me tonight. Pyotr wants to be with me. That thought lingers in my mind, giving me a sense of peace and happiness.
Am I in love with Pyotr?I wonder. Knowing now that he loves me brings the question to my mind.
After tonight, I think I could be.
18
PYOTR
My heart shatters as Silvia snuggles close to my side, resting her satiny cheek against my chest. A delicate rosy color stains her skin, making her almost glow and telling me I managed to bring her deep satisfaction.
Watching her fall apart around me was the single sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. And now, having her pressed snuggly against me, this might be a close second.
Her dark, silken curls cascade over my shoulder, tickling my skin at the slightest movement. They’re the perfect kind of mussed from our time together, still held up in their bobby pins but with a number of strands falling loose in a waterfall across my flesh.
Intoxicating attraction makes my chest swell at the tender, trusting gesture. A contented sigh leaves her lips. And I can feel all the tension from her apprehension over sex leave her body as she completely relaxes with me for the first time.
She gave up her virginity to me.
She did it so willingly.
And, fuck, was she glorious.
I can hardly believe it.
My pulse thrums harder as I think of the sheer perfection of her. The way she responded to my touch so eagerly. The way her body sang as I filled her so completely. She was so fucking tight that I could barely hold my load. And when she came on my cock that first time, I nearly lost it.
Nineteen and completely untouched. I must be the luckiest fucking bastard in the world.
My gut tightens at the memory of her hiding her face in my neck to fight through the initial pain. From the tears I wiped off her cheeks, it must have been considerable–probably because I don’t think she’s even been fingered before tonight. And still, she didn’t change her mind. She never told me to stop.
She powered through it, showing me she’s far more brave and resilient than I ever would have given her credit for.
God, Silvia’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman–fierce, passionate, greedy for my touch, yet inherently giving. Not the meek, stiff, fearful creature I’d imagined she would be after we first met. We fit together seamlessly. And I’m falling hard.
I relish the warmth of her naked body pressed against mine, the way she nuzzles her cheek against my chest. The gentle hum that issues from her confirms her contentment. Her leg hooks up over mine, tangling our feet in a surprisingly intimate gesture.
And for a moment, I allow myself to thoroughly enjoy her beauty. My arm tightens instinctually around her, and I breathe deeply the rich floral scent of her hair. It’s fresh and feminine and somehow soothing.
I’m shocked to realize how close to honest my confession of love might actually be. This weekend has made it impossible to stay objective about Silvia, but after tonight, I know I’m falling for her hard. As soon as I think it, guilt comes crashing down on me–as I knew it would. Because as close as I am to falling in love with Silvia, that’s not why I said the words.
Ugly self-loathing sours the peaceful moment, turning my skin cold and bringing bile to my throat. I can’t believe I did it. I betrayed her. Again. And whether she knows it or not, I’ve hurt her more deeply than I ever have before. What I’ve done is beyond forgiveness.
And I’ve realized it too late.
Suddenly suffocating, I have an intense need to move. But Silvia seems so peaceful on my chest, completely at ease in her innocence. As gently as I can, I pivot, sliding a pillow into place beneath her cheek to free myself. She stirs drowsily, muttering my name, and it rips through my chest.
But once I’m off the bed, she stills, hugging the pillow closer to her. Swallowing hard, I go to the bathroom and pour myself a glass of water. All the relaxed contentment I’d felt for a fleeting moment is gone, my body humming with tension as I catch my reflection in the mirror.
