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But at least we had a hell of a ride along the way.
I strip off Gemma’s top and bra, then kiss her breasts, taking my time, savoring this moment. Gemma sighs and melts into the mattress, her eyes fluttering shut. When I kiss down her stomach and take off her pants and underwear, Gemma moans. Spreading her legs, I kiss her pussy. Her hips jerk. I smile, knowing how sensitive she is to my touch. I’ll miss this. But if she dies because of me, I’ll never get to touch her again. At least this way, I know she’ll be safe.
When did I become such a softie? I guess when Gemma entered my life.
I pleasure Gemma with my mouth, giving her everything I’ve got. My tongue flicks her nub, causing her to cy out. Gemma’s breath comes out in pants, her chest heaving. God, she’s a sight to see. I keep fucking her with my tongue until she moans my name, coming hard.
Her legs flop open. “Viktor. Oh my god …”
I smile as I kiss up her body. “That good, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
I strip off my own clothes and settle on top of her. Our eyes meet, and she gives a little nod. Then I thrust into her. We moan together. Gemma wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me in closer, while I encircle her body with my arms. We’re skin to skin, body to body. Not even a piece of paper could get between us.
Shifting my hips, I take my time fucking her. It’s never been this gentle. It’s nice. In fact, it’s better than nice. It’s fucking fantastic, is what it is.
Gemma grips my back as I move into her. She responds by raising her hips and matching my pace. Her lips part. Fuck. I have to kiss her again. So, I do, and I groan against her lips. Gemma holds me tighter, her legs holding on for dear life.
I grind my hips, my cock sinking deeper into her. Gemma moans, her body already trembling. My pace becomes frantic. Gemma just holds on.
“You’re mine,” I growl, cupping her face. “You’re always mine.”
“Viktor!” she cries out, her orgasm washing over her. Her legs quiver against my body. I groan as I come next, burrowing my face into her neck. We cling to each other.
Eventually, I pull out of her. Gemma doesn’t curl into my body this time. Instead, she stares up at the ceiling, her beautiful body on display. I could look at her for hours and never get bored. That’s something I’ll miss.
But more importantly, I’ll just miss her. Her snarky remarks, her sass, the passion within her. Just her.
“I didn’t kill my parents,” I say.
Gemma glances over at me. “What?”
I shrug. “I figure if this is the last time we ever talk, you should know the truth about me. I didn’t kill my parents. They died in a car crash. Not my fault, I might add.”
She curls onto her side, looking at me intently. “Then why did you tell me you killed them?”
“To shock you. I found it funny.”
“You’re so weird, Viktor.”
I chuckle and roll onto my side, facing her as well. “With you … I want to open up. It feels nice to have someone who accepts me. I figured you should know all of me. I wanted to kill them, but I couldn’t. Simple as that.”
“Maybe you do have some good in you, deep down.”
“That’s becoming clear, yes.”
She smiles and scoots closer to me. Her body heat warms me up. “Well, if this is the last time we ever see each other, I have a confession to make.” She pauses.
“Go ahead.”
“I’m scared,” she blurts out. “I’m scared to see my family again. What if it’s not a happy reunion?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, I didn’t leave on the best of terms with some of them. Like my mom. Emilia. All of them, for that matter. I could be such a bitch to them. What if they’re not happy to see me?”
“Well, I’m always happy to see you.”
