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The tension in my muscles wanes as the submissive urge grows stronger, overriding the exhaustion. I grapple with the comforter, seeking purchase through the conflicting emotions and the building need—the burning desire to be his.
I no longer care how he marks his ownership—whether I want it or not—I just need to feel it. It’s a dichotomy of major proportions, an inner battle that my tired brain is bound to lose. And it does. As the pulsing heat between my legs heightens, my back slackens, arching in open invitation, and my moans turn into a new sort of desperation.
The invitation doesn’t go unanswered. Grigory pulls back and pushes in with one fluid motion. He repeats a few times, too slow, both for him and me. I think he tries to draw out the pleasure. I feel it in his urgent grip around my hips, the building violence as his fingers dig into my skin.
“You feel so good,” he growls, digging a hand into my hair. Pain flares in my scalp as he pulls my head back, forcing me into an awkward position.
“It hurts,” I gasp, barely able to get the words out through my stretched throat.
“Yeah?” he says, pausing inside me, but it’s more like a delightedwell, that’s good to hearthan a concerned inquiry.
My hands fumble before me to gain a little support, but they keep slipping on the sheets, and even when I do manage to take some weight off my head, it makes no difference. His grip is too tight, tugging at my roots, sending sharp pain into my scalp.
I’m about to beg him to stop when he starts moving inside me again. His hard length drags against my now very slick walls, sending bolts of pleasure through my body, making me jerk against his grip on my hair, causing more pain. But the pain isn’t truly pain anymore. It’s an overwhelming sensation like a strong electric current about to cause a short circuit.
It keeps building and building, tightening inside me as Grigory drags his length across my inner walls. But it’s too slow to send me over the edge, and my moans become frustrated as the tension keeps whirring in my body without release.
I’m panting and heaving, perspiration slickening my brow, when he stills inside me and growls in my ear. “Come for me.”
Is he mocking me?There’s no way I’ll come like this.
The thought only gets to hover in my mind for a second before he slams into me with a jeering force that sends me straight over the edge. All the coiling tension inside me explodes, shooting through my body, into my limbs, making me buck and jerk as I scream into the air before me.
The sound mixes with a low growl, more animal than human. Grigory’s fingers dig into my hips, breaking my skin as he spills his cum inside me. The sensation is utter bliss. He thrusts hard a few more times before he stills with a few jerky motions.
Our heaving breaths mingle in the silence, only broken by a few whimper-like moans as the last aftershocks of the orgasm roll through me.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers as he takes me with him to lie down on our sides. “So submissive.” He strokes his knuckles along my cheek as he spoons me against his warm body. “And full of my cum.”
“Hmm,” I manage, already feeling the sticky mess coat my thighs.
“Now sleep,” he says, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head, and I quickly slip into a deep and calm sleep.
***
I wake up with my head nestled into the crook of a shoulder. A large arm is draped around my back, a hand resting on my waist.
Inhaling deeply, I catch Grigory’s earthy scent combined with a musky hint of something masculine.
Sex.
I flex my hand beneath the comforter and realize his chest is bare. Actually, all of him is bare, I think, from head to toe. A rush of excitement makes my heart skip a beat. I’ve never felt him naked before. The first time he fucked me, he put his pants back on before taking me in his arms, and every other time he’s held me, he’s been fully dressed.
It’s like discovering chocolate for the first time, feeling his skin pressed against mine. His entire body radiates warmth the same way his huge hands do. I could go all winter without turning up the heat and wouldn’t freeze as long as I was curled up against this man.
Keeping my eyes closed, I focus on the sensation as I flatten my palm over his chest and slip it a bit farther up. A slight scratch of hair meets me at his sternum. I smile at the tickling sensation, stroking my hand back and forth a few times before moving farther. His skin becomes soft again above his beating heart. I settle my hand there, relishing the steady rhythm.
I’m not sure if he’s sleeping or just resting, but surely, I’d feel his gaze if he were watching me.
Not wanting to break the peace, I keep my eyes closed for a few more minutes before fluttering my eyelids open and greeting the day. I glance around the familiar surroundings I haven’t seen in months.
For three years, I’ve lived here—since I moved to the city to study—and I’ve loved every minute of it. I’ve fit everything I need into the small space and managed to make it cozy instead of cramped.
On the other side of the flimsy curtains at the end of the bed, is my dining table and a kitchenette that I’ve expanded just enough to have a fully functioning kitchen—though a very small one. On the long wall on the other side, I have my piano, which fits right into the nook behind the door, a glass-door cabinet, a TV, and a brown swivel chair by the window, which usually functions as a laundry basket since I prefer to sit in my bed.
A glass door between the chair and my bed leads to a garden. It’s a small one that I share with my neighbor, but having any garden at all is more than most students can say. Usually, I’d have a few flowers in pots out there, but since I haven’t been home all summer, I haven’t planted anything this year.
I want to go peek behind the curtain to see how it looks after three months without being tended to, but I’m enjoying Grigory’s heat too much to move.
