The pressure is intense, the fullness almost too much, and yet I want more, want to feel her filling me, taking me, fucking me. And at last she deems me ready. Her fingers withdraw, and she gets up on her knees behind me.
Slowly, so slowly, she pushes the toy into me. There’s a moment of sharp discomfort, and then I’m spreading wide, wider, my body opening to her. Her hand presses comfortingly between my shoulder blades, holding me steady as she sinks in deeper, and I let out a low cry.
“Are you—” she begins.
“I’m fine,” I snap, desperately trying to breathe. “Please, Eva. Please, I need?—”
“I’ll give you what you need.”
And then she’s moving, the shaft sliding out of me before pushing back in, and the sensation is indescribable, filling me completely.
I drop onto my elbows, my face pressed into the pillow, the air forced from my lungs. I feel like I’m coming apart, like every cell in my body is breaking open, and the only thing keeping me together is the feel of Eva inside me.
She fucks me steadily, relentlessly, her hands gripping my hips, her breathing ragged. And then one of her hands leaves my hips, slides under me to find my aching clit, and her fingers begin circling, matching the rhythm of her thrusts.
“Do you hate this?” she pants out, and I moan in response, beyond words, my body moving in time with hers.
“Say it,” she demands, her fingers pressing harder, her hips picking up speed. “Tell me how much you hate this.”
“God, yes, I hate it,” I gasp, and the words are both a lie and the truest thing I’ve ever said. “I hate how much I want you. How much I need you. How fucking good this feels.”
Her breath hitches, and her hips jerk against mine, and I can feel her losing control. A desolate sense of triumph runs through me as she moans aloud. For once, I made her break before I did.
For once, I won.
And then I’m falling, ripping apart, every muscle tightening, my mind blanking to everything except the pleasure roaring through me. I feel her shuddering, fucking me through it, until I reach back and shove her hand away, too over-stimulated.
She pulls out of my ass and I hear a click, a soft thud on the floor, and then she climbs back into the bed, wrapping herself over me like a blanket.
For long moments, we lie there on the bed, our chests heaving, our skin slick with sweat.
Neither of us speaks. The only sound is the slow steadying of our breathing. My body still hums with aftershocks, but my mind is crystal clear for the first time in hours.
I wriggle out from under her eventually and turn over to find Eva still watching me, her eyes dark and unguarded. There’s something vulnerable in her expression.
“I should go,” I croak out, and though I make no move to leave, Eva’s hand shoots out to grab my wrist.
“Stay,” she says, and her voice cracks slightly on the word. “Please.”
The plea is so unlike her usual commanding tone. Eva Novak, who orders and expects obedience, is asking. Not demanding. Asking.
“There’s no point,” I sigh. “You made it clear I mean nothing to you.”
“I…” Eva starts, then stops. She looks away, then back at me, something like pain flickering across her features. “I’m sorry.”
It might be the first time Eva Novak has ever apologized to anyone in her entire life, because she almost stumbles over the words like they’re foreign to her tongue.
“Sorry for what?” I ask quietly.
“For...” She closes her eyes briefly, as if gathering strength. “For what I said to Stefan. For reducing you to nothing when you’re…”
“When I’m what, Eva? Tell me, or I’m leaving you to sleep alone.”
I wait another few moments for her to woman up and tell me, but when her gaze slides away from mine, I’ve had enough. I pull away from her and stand up. “Goodnight, Eva,” I throw over my shoulder.
At least this time I’m the one walking away. I just wish it felt more like a victory than it does.
Chapter 15
