“I’m a hard man to kill,” I said, more than a little amused. “But you,kotenok… you’re welcome to try anytime.”
Her gaze softened, the fighter in her retreating for just a moment, revealing a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before. She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw, a hesitant, gentle touch that was more intimate than anything we had just done.
“Viktor,” she whispered, my name a soft, fragile sound on her lips.
My heart did a strange, unfamiliar lurch. I didn’t do soft. I didn’t do vulnerable, but with her looking up at me like that, I felt a new pull that somehow went beyond the physical, beyond the conquest and felt dangerously close to affection.
I leaned down, not to kiss her, not to bite her, but to rest my forehead against hers. It was a gentle, almost tender gesture, and it felt as foreign to me as it probably did to her.
“Get off me,” she said, but there was no real bite to it. Her hands pushed weakly against my chest, more a token gesture than a real attempt to dislodge me. She wanted to push. She needed to push. It was who she was. But she didn’t have the strength at the moment.
“Make me,” I challenged, a low, teasing rumble.
Her eyes narrowed, a flash of her fire returning. Her hands pressed against my chest again, this time with more force. “Get. Off.”
I chuckled, amused. I rolled off her, but only to my side, my arm thrown across her waist, pulling her against me. She was trapped, not in a way that felt threatening, but rather intimate.
She lay stiffly beside me, her body a rigid line of resistance. I could feel the war raging inside her, the conflict between the agent who needed to reclaim control and the woman who had just been thoroughly dominated. I didn’t push. I didn’t speak. I just waited, letting the silence stretch between us, letting her feel the weight of my body and the gentle rhythm of my breathing against her back.
Then I felt it.
A slow, deep, undeniable throb of life returning to my cock.
It shouldn’t have been possible. I’d just poured myself into her. My body should be spent, but there it was, a hungry, demanding pulse that was all for her. Her scent, her warmth, the feel of her body pressed against mine—it was a potent cocktail that went straight to my dick.
My cock, already hard again and pressing against her ass, thickened even more.
She tensed, a soft gasp escaping her lips.
She felt it.
Of course she felt it.
“Again?” she asked in a strained whisper. “Wasn’t that enough?”
“With you? Never,” I murmured, my lips brushing her temple.
My hand, which had been resting on her stomach, began to move. I traced the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip, the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her breath hitched, a small, involuntary reaction that told me everything I needed to know.
“You’re sore,” I stated, my fingers ghosting over the reddened skin of her ass. “And you’re sensitive.”
She didn’t answer, but her body did, arching into my touch.
“I’m going to fuck you again,” I said with a sultry grin. “I’m going to make you come so many times you forget your own name.”
Before she could form a retort, I moved.
I was over her in a fluid, economical motion, my body blanketing hers, my weight pinning her to the bed. I captured her hands in one of mine, raising them above her head, pressing them into the mattress. My other hand hooked under her knee, spreading her wide, opening her to me.
“No,” she gasped in a weak, useless protest.
“Yes,” I countered, my cock finding her entrance, the slick, swollen folds still dripping from our last coupling. I slid the head of my cock through her lips, a slow, teasing rub against her clit that made her entire body tense.
She squirmed beneath me, her hips bucking, a desperate attempt to escapethe sensations pouring through her. But there was no escape. Not for her. I held her firm, my grip on her wrists unyielding, my body a heavy, dominant weight.
“You’re fighting me,” I observed. “But your body is begging for it.”
“It’s just… a physical reaction,” she panted, her head thrashing from side to side.
