The sound cracks through the room.
I don't move. Just look at her with my cheek stinging and my cock hard and my control hanging by a thread.
"Feel better?" I ask.
"No." Tears are streaming down her face now. "Nothing about this is better. I should be calling the police. I should be fighting you with everything I have. But instead I'm standing here wanting you to—" She stops, biting her lip hard.
"Wanting me to what?"
"Fuck me." It comes out broken, anguished. "I want you to fuck me and I hate myself for it and I hate you for making me want it but I can't stop!"
I don't let her finish. I kiss her hard, one hand fisting in her hair, the other gripping her hip bruisingly tight. She makes a sound against my mouth—half sob, half moan—and then she's kissing me back with everything she has.
Desperate. Hungry. Eleven months of tension exploding between us.
"Tell me to stop," I growl against her mouth. "Tell me no and I'll walk away right now."
She pulls back just enough to look at me. Her eyes are wet but determined.
"Don't you dare stop."
I strip her clothes off roughly, not bothering with finesse. Buttons pop. Fabric tears. She's helping, pulling at her own shirt, shimming out of her jeans with shaking hands.
When she's down to her bra and panties, I stop to look at her. Smooth skin. Soft curves. The slight tremble in her limbs. The way her chest heaves with each breath. The damp spot already visible on her white panties.
"You're perfect," I breathe. "Absolutely fucking perfect."
"Konstantin."
I hook my fingers in her panties and drag them down her legs. She's bare underneath, and the sight of her pussy, pink and wet and untouched, makes my cock throb painfully in my pants.
"Look at you," I murmur, running one finger through her folds. She gasps. "So wet. So ready. Have you ever touched yourself here thinking about me?"
Her face flames red but she nods.
"Say it."
"Yes," she whispers. "I've touched myself thinking about you."
"Good girl." I circle her clit slowly, watching her eyes flutter. "What did you imagine?"
"I—I can't—"
"Tell me or I stop."
"You taking me," she gasps as my finger finds the perfect rhythm. "Making me yours. Being rough with me. Doing all the things the men in my books do."
"Fuck." I slip one finger inside her. She's tight. So fucking tight. "Like this?"
"Yes!"
"You're virgin tight, aren't you?" I work my finger deeper, feeling her inner walls clench around me. "No one's ever been inside you."
She shakes her head, beyond words now.
I add a second finger. She cries out, her back arching off the bed.
"That's it. Take my fingers. Get used to the stretch." I'm pumping them slowly, scissoring them apart, preparing her. "Because my cock is going to be so much bigger. So much thicker. It's going to hurt at first."
