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I bury my nose into her neck, inhaling her scent over and over while she fucks me. I usually change positions before I come, but I’m so lost in her that my orgasm creeps up on me, taking me by surprise. I growl through my release, wrapping my hands over her shoulders and pulling her down onto me while thrusting up. I give one last thrust and then release her. She climbs from me, scooping her knickers up and pulling them on. “Sladost, you didn’t finish,” I point out.
“That’s not part of the plan.”
“Fuck the plan. I want to make you come.”
She puts her robe on. “I don’t want you to. We’ve done what we need to do.” I watch as she leaves, feeling a swirl of different emotions. Emotions I have no business feeling for a woman who hates me.
GRACE
My legs shake as I walk away with purpose. I thought sex without feelings would be a piece of cake, but each time he came to me and was unable to perform this last week, I took it personally.
I’d lie awake each night wondering why the fuck I cared. I should hate him, and I should feel relief he couldn’t touch me. But I didn’t. I felt like I was the problem, and so, I made it my mission to get him hard enough to fuck me.
But right as he came, I woke the fuck up. We’re not a couple and we’re not in love. He’s a sick fucker who needs teaching a lesson.
I get into my room and head straight to the bathroom. Squatting over the toilet, I remove the Femidom, wrapping it in tissue and flushing it away. I can’t risk him finding it. I know I can’t always use one because there will be times when he takes me by surprise. The clinic used to give them to women like me for free, just in case, but I only have six left in my bag.
The following night, Ivan isn’t in the house. Maria seems to think he’s working from his office in the city, so I spend time in the library lost inWuthering Heights. I feel my eyes getting heavy, but I’m so comfortable, I refuse to move, and I drift off snuggled on the couch.
It’s sometime later when I feel myself being lifted into strong arms. I don’t need to open my eyes to know it’s Ivan because he sniffs my neck as he carries me up to bed.
I’m lowered into his bed and my shirt is pushed up my thighs. He pulls my knickers off and crawls between my legs. I clamp them closed, but he pulls them apart, burying his head between them and licking me. It’s against the rules, and I mumble a protest which he ignores. The build-up is quick and intense. I cry out, and he pushes his fingers into me, causing the orgasm to ripple through me. When he’s satisfied I’ve come, he crawls up my body and pushes into me. “From now on, you’ll orgasm every single time,” he growls in my ear.
Each night that follows is the same. Tonight, as he comes on a roar, he remains buried inside me. “Tell me about your life before,” he murmurs against my damp neck.
“What do you want to know?”
“Where are your parents? Why is no one looking for you?” He falls beside me, staring up at the ceiling.
I turn away slightly. “This isn’t what we agreed, Ivan.” In fact, so much is happening that we didn’t agree to.
“Tell me,” he insists.
“We had a disagreement,” I tell him. “Mum left me and Dad when I was fourteen. She met someone else and had been having an affair. After that, she became someone else, a less nice version of the mum I once knew.”
“In what way?”
I sigh heavily. Having a heart-to-heart with this man isn’t what I want to do. “She was cold and irritated by my presence, so I stopped going to see her. I blamed Dad for not chasing her and begging her to stay. I guess I was angry at them both. They let me down. Eventually, Dad moved on too, and I felt like I was in the way. His new girlfriend had two daughters around my age, and they all hated me.”
“So, you left?”
I shake my head. “I had a huge row with his girlfriend’s youngest daughter. She stole my jumper, normal teenage stuff, but it got physical. Her mum gave Dad an ultimatum—me or them. I left that night.”
“He chose them over you?” Ivan looks annoyed.
I shrug, pushing down that familiar ache in my chest that I get whenever I think about my past. “I couch surfed for as long as I could, but eventually, I was out of favours. So, I went into care.”
“Then how did you end up on the streets?”
“What about you?” I ask, changing the subject. “Where are your parents?”
“Both dead.”
“Sorry,” I whisper.
“What happened after you grew up and left care?”
“I met someone. I thought I was in love, so we moved in together. We worked for a few years, then I met someone else. I moved into his place and things didn’t work out. I had nowhere to go.”
