She nodded, holding my gaze. “Don’t look away.”
“I won’t.”
I teased her pussy by rubbing my cap along her entrance. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.
She let out a soft whine, her muscles relaxing beneath me.
Without breaking eye contact, I pushed my cock inside her tight pussy, her wetness easing my movement. Her face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure, her brows drawing together. I kept pushing slowly, my cock stretching her out.
We refused to look away as I penetrated her pussy, and she squeezed tightly against the sheets. Her eyes widened the deeper I traveled inside her, tears simmering beneath the surface.
She left the sheets and threw her arms around my neck, fingers digging into flesh as my shaft tore through her hymen. “Oh—fuck, that’s so deep,” she moaned. “Is it all in?”
“Almost.”
She tipped her head back again, her breath hitched in her throat.
Halfway through, I gently pulled out of her, glancing at the blood on my cap. A momentary sigh of relief fell from her lips before I slid my cock back inside.
I repeated the process over and over until her body was finally familiar with it—until it was more of a pleasure than a pain. I lay down on her, my chest pressed against her soft breasts. She raised her leg in the air, and I caressed it, running my palm along her thigh as I plunged into her.
She clutched the sheets beneath her and tugged at them while moaning in ecstasy. Her pussy swallowed me whole, her folds tight around my cock. My waist ground against hers as I hit her with slow, deliberate strokes.
Eva moaned my name, her fingers raking my back in response to my deep thrusts. My hands roamed her body, her skin smooth beneath mine. She raised both legs in the air and then locked them around my waist.
Trapped between her thighs, I drove deeper and deeper inside her, my pace quickening by the minute. Her slippery pussy was driving me nuts, drawing me closer and closer to the edge. The sound of her moans was music to my ears, and the pleasure on her face only fanned the fires of my hunger.
The faster I drove into her, the closer I came to climaxing. She stared into my eyes, as if savoring the way my face was contorted in ecstasy. A deep, guttural growl signaled my arrival, and she nodded, anticipating my release.
I slammed my waist harder than before and then exploded inside her. Her hips bucked higher, her pussy accepting every single drop as I filled her up with trembling legs.
When it was all over, I collapsed on the other side of the bed, struggling to catch my breath. We both lay on our backs,facing the ceiling in silence. The air was filled with the faint sounds of our ragged breathing and the scent of sweat.
As our chests rose and fell, we both knew—even without either of us saying a word—that this was the beginning of a new chapter in our lives.
The question was: Were we ready for it?
Eva pulled the sheets over her chest, the soft fabric concealing her breasts. Quietly, she rolled to the other side of the bed, clutching the sheets against her front like her life depended on it.
I didn’t have to be a mind reader to see the guilt etched on her face. The weight of what she’d just done was beginning to settle in. And I knew at that moment that she would start avoiding me again.
Chapter 17 —Eva
I lay on my side, fingers clutching the sheets against my chest as my heart hammered loudly. A wave of shame washed over me, reminding me of the mess I’d just made. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the man who’d taken my innocence, the man who’d made a woman out of me.
The silence was awkward and seemed to stretch for eternity. I heard him rise from the bed on the other side, but I didn’t turn around. Even after he picked up his clothes from the floor and headed out, I still didn’t move.
When I heard the door close after he’d left the room, I closed my eyes, hating myself for falling for his charms. Of all people on this earth to give my virginity to, I’d chosen Demyon Tarasov, a brutal killer with no shred of humanity.
What a grave mistake!
The worst part was that I couldn’t blame him for anything because he didn’t force himself on me. The man asked for my permission, and I willingly gave my consent. I was the only one to blame here.
My grip tightened around the sheets as I felt my heart shattering. The memory of my own moans and the crazy things I’d said in the heat of the moment would haunt me for a long time.
I regretted giving in to my desire; it was foolish of me to have let him hit it. My first time was supposed to be memorable; it was supposed to be something I’d cherish for as long as I lived.
How was I supposed to cherish this memory when the man who’d taken my innocence was the same one who kidnapped me?
