His fingers fumbled with the buttons of my hotel uniform, popping them open one by one. The fabric gave way under his insistent hands, exposing my skin to the cool air of the apartment. I gasped as he yanked the top off my shoulders, his mouth crashing back onto mine in a bruising kiss. His injured arm didn't slow him down; if anything, it made him more intense, like the pain fueled his hunger.
He peeled away my bra next, tossing it aside without a second glance. Hiseyes darkened as he stared at my bare breasts, heaving with each ragged breath I took. "Fuck, Elena," he growled, his voice thick with lust. He dipped his head, capturing one nipple between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to make me arch off the sofa.
I moaned, my hands clutching at his broad shoulders through the expensive suit fabric. His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, soothing the sting before he sucked hard, drawing it deep into his mouth. His free hand kneaded the other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers, pinching until I whimpered. The mix of pleasure and pain shot straight to my core, making me wetter than I'd ever been.
He switched sides, lavishing the same rough attention on my other breast, his stubble scraping against my skin. I writhed under him, my hips bucking involuntarily, seeking friction. "Igor... please," I begged, not even sure what I was asking for.
He pulled back, his green eyes blazing with heat. "Patience, beautiful." His hands moved lower, shoving my skirt up around my waist. He hooked his fingers into my panties and ripped them down my legs in one swift motion, leaving me completely naked beneath him.
He sat back on his heels, drinking in the sight of me sprawled out on the sofa, exposed and trembling. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with awe. "So fucking perfect."
My cheeks burned, but the way he looked at me—like I was something precious and wild—made my body throb with need. He was still fully dressed in that sleek black suit, the bloodstained sleeve a stark reminder of the chaos we'd escaped. It only made him seem more dangerous, more intoxicating.
"Now, your turn," he said, a wicked smile curling his lips. "Undress me, Elena. I want to feel your hands on me."
I hesitated, my fingers shaking as I reached for his tie. He watched me intently, not helping, just letting me take control for a moment. I loosened the knot and slid the silk free, then started on his shirt buttons. His chest rose and fell under my touch, the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric. When I pushed the shirt open, revealing the hard planes of his muscled torso, I couldn't help but trace my fingers over the ridges of his abs, feeling them flex.
"Keep going," he encouraged, his voice low and commanding.
I tugged at his belt, unbuckling it with fumbling hands. He liftedhis hips slightly as I unzipped his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, veined and pulsing with need. I stared, my mouth going dry—it was huge, intimidating in its size.
He shrugged off the rest of his clothes, careful with his injured arm, until we were both naked, skin to skin. His body was a masterpiece of power and scars, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, every inch screaming strength.
He leaned down again, capturing my mouth in a deep kiss while his hand trailed down my body, parting my thighs. "Let me taste you," he whispered against my lips.
Before I could respond, he slid down, positioning himself between my legs. His hot breath fanned over my most intimate place, making me shiver. I'd never done this before—never let anyone this close. But with Igor, it felt right, inevitable.
He spread me open with his fingers, exposing my slick folds. "So wet for me already," he murmured, then leaned in, his tongue flicking out to trace my clit.
I cried out, my hips jerking at the electric sensation. He didn't hold back—his mouth devoured me, licking and sucking with expert precision. His tongue delved into my entrance, thrusting in and out, mimicking what was to come. I was so sensitive, every touch amplified, building pressure inside me like a storm.
"Oh God, Igor... I can't..." I gasped, my hands fisting in his hair.
He hummed against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body. He focused on my clit, circling it with his tongue while his fingers slipped inside, curling to hit that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes. It was too much—my inexperience made me hypersensitive, and the orgasm crashed over me fast and hard. I screamed his name, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure ripped through me, leaving me boneless and panting.
He kissed his way back up my body, his lips glistening with my arousal. "Good girl," he praised, positioning himself at my entrance. His cock nudged against my soaked pussy, the head pressing in slowly.
I tensed, the stretch burning as he pushed forward. He was so big—halfway in, and the pain made me whimper, a sharp cry escaping my lips.
He froze, his eyes widening in realization. "Fuck, Elena... are you a virgin?"
I nodded, biting my lip, tears pricking at my eyes from the mix of pain and overwhelming sensation.
He groaned, but his touch turned gentle, stroking my hair. "Shh, it's okay. We'll go slow." He waited, kissing me softly until I relaxed, my body adjusting to his girth. Then, inch by inch, he sank deeper, filling me completely until he was buried to the hilt.
"You're mine now," he growled, his voice possessive and raw. "All mine."
He started moving, slow thrusts at first, letting me get used to the rhythm. But soon, the pain faded into pure bliss, each stroke hitting deeper, harder. He picked up speed, pounding into me relentlessly, the sofa creaking under us. I lost count after the first few dozen thrusts—his hips snapped forward over and over, driving into me with raw power. Sweat slicked our bodies, his injured arm braced beside me, the wound he'd ignored still bleeding.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," he grunted, his pace brutal now, slamming in and out. I wrapped my legs around him, meeting his thrusts, the friction building another climax.
After what felt like hundreds of deep, punishing strokes, he buried himself deep and came with a roar, spilling hot and thick inside me, filling me up completely.
We both panted, his weight pressing me into the cushions. He lifted his head, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Did that feel good, Elena?"
"Yes," I whispered, still trembling from the aftershocks. "So good."
He smirked, that dangerous glint back in his eyes. "I can make it even better." With a fluid motion, he shifted us, sitting up on the sofa with me straddling his lap. His cock, still hard and slick with our combined fluids, twitched against my thigh.
