I feel him stand up slowly, bracing himself on the couch as I hear the rustle of fabric. And then I feelhim… his cock, thick and blunt and… bare.
Somewhere in the fog of pleasure, I know I shouldn’t allow this. I have an IUD, but there are still plenty of reasons I shouldn’t let him fuck me raw. I’ve never let any man fuck me without a condom for the added protection.
But I can’t make myself speak. I can’t make a sound. I feel the pressure of his bare, hot flesh, sliding between my folds as he angles himself against my entrance, and I hear the low, ragged groan that comes from deep in his throat.
“Fuck, kotenok, so wet… so fucking wet for me.”
I turn my head, seeing him over my shoulder. His jaw is set as if in pain, his eyes narrow and dark, his hand clenched around his thick length. His hips tilt, and my mouth opens on a moan as I feel a man slide into me bare for the first time, see the muscles in his jaw work as he enters me.
He doesn’t ease in. His hips snap forward, and I feel him sink into me in a hot, hard rush, a sound of intense pleasure tearing from his lips as his hips meet the slender curve of my ass. His hand is twisted in my hair, the other squeezing my hip, and he rocks into me, stretching me with how thick he is, how big.
“So fucking tight…” He groans, and then he pulls out to the tip before slamming into me again.
“Fuck… fuck…” Ilya pants behind me, setting a hard, punishing pace as he starts to fuck me in earnest. “God, you feel as fucking good as I imagined, fuck…”
My entire body tightens at the thought of himimaginingthis, stroking himself while picturing it, obsessing over fuckingme. His cock slams into me again and again in hard, driving strokes as his fingers curl around my hip and his hand slides lower, fingertips finding my clit. His balls slap against my folds,a wet, rhythmic sound filling the air as he fucks me hard, making me his.
Even if I leave here, I think dimly as he fucks me, fills me,ruinsme… I’ll never be the same. I’ll never forget this. Because no one has ever fucked me the way Ilya Sorokov is fucking me.
He’s relentless, taking me, proving to me what he’s said over and over again. I’m his. This is him taking what belongs to him. Proving he owns me, because my ass arches up to meet each punishing stroke of his cock, my body tightens with each pass of his fingers over my clit, winding up to give him another of my orgasms, to come on his cock, to soak him in my pleasure before he gives me his. Before he…
He’s going to come inside of me.
The thought terrifies me, and in the same instant, tips me over the edge. My mouth opens on a guttural cry of pleasure as my pussy clamps down on his length, dragging over him as he slides back and then plunges into me again, and I hear a string of what sound like curses in Russian as Ilya’s hand on the back of my hair pushes my face hard against the couch.
His hips slam against mine as I come on his cock, grinding on his length as he drives into me to the hilt and I feel him throb, the hot rush of his cum filling me. I canfeelit, each hot, thick spurt as he comes inside of me in a flood, his palm cupped against my pussy as he rubs my clit feverishly through it, our climaxes intertwining as he sinks against me, still throbbing.
“Fuck, Mara?—”
The sound of my name on his lips jolts through the fog of pleasure. Reality comes crashing back in.
What did I just do?
The thought feels faint at first, then crystallizes as I feel him slide out of me, his cum sliding down my thighs as I’m left hollow in the wake of his thick length filling me. The position I’m in hits me—bent over the couch in this stranger’s penthouse,half-dressed, my swollen pussy on display for him while his cum drips out of me.
What did I just do?
I just had sex with my stalker. The man who cut off Richard Maxwell's hand. The man who beat Daniel bloody. The man who's been watching me from this apartment, learning my routines, planning to bring me here.
I killed someone tonight and then I came here and I had sex with him.
Horror floods through me, cold and sharp. I scramble away from him, grabbing at my leggings as I yank them back up, trying not to think about the wet, warm feeling of his cum between my thighs. I let him fuck me bare. I let him come inside of me. I…
I look up at his face, that gorgeous, cold, terrifying face, and I see his eyes harden as he takes in the expression on mine.
"Mara—" He reaches for me, his voice rough.
"Don't." I stumble back, pulling away from him. "Don't touch me."
“I just did far more than touch you.” A smirk curls one corner of his mouth. “Don’t play this game,kotenok. You know you’re mine. You’ve had my cock in you. You’ve come for me. You’re dripping my cum right now…”
“Shut up!” I nearly scream. “I can’t believe I… I’ve never…”
His eyes darken at that admission. “You were a virgin?”
“No!” I shriek. “But I’ve always used… always…”
His jaw tightens, and I see his cock twitch against the front of his pants, as if he’s already getting aroused again. “So have I,” he growls, taking a step forward. “I madeyoumine, Mara. Only you.” He narrows his eyes. “And don’t talk about other men to me. My control only stretches so far…”
