SVETLANA
For a moment, I can’t believe what just happened.
The intense pleasure of my orgasm is still fogging my brain, the aftershocks shivering across my skin, and I can’t comprehend what exactly is wrong about it for a brief second, except for the pinging anxiety in my chest.
And then he slides out of me, and I feel the drip of his cum against my thigh, and cold realization grips me.
Not only did I fuck a man I hate, but he came inside of me.
I didn’t exactly tell him not to. But I would have thought he would have known better. I expected him to pull out, to use the fucking head on his shoulders for at least a second, but I guess that’s my fault.
I know enough of men at this point that I should never expect them to do the smart thing. Or the right thing.
Or anything other than what they want in the moment.
I pull away from him, wrenching my body out of his grasp as I grab for the towel and wrap it around myself again, my back to him. I hear the sound of him adjusting himself, tucking his cock away, and doing up his belt, and I spin to face him with a sneer.
“How was that? Did it finally go soft?”
Kazimir stares at me. His jaw is rigid, his shoulders tense, and his eyes are full of regret. That last hits hardest of all… that he fucked me,me, who has seen him look at me like he wants me for years, me, the woman he walked out on once before, who fucked him anyway, and he’s looking at me like he wishes he hadn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he begins, and I laugh.
“Fuck you.”
His jaw tightens. “You just did.”
“Don’t worry, I regret that it was you, too. But you were the only available cock, and I wanted to get the taste of the others off of me.”
I can tell that hit the mark. He flinches, his shoulders jerking backward, and he lets out a slow exhale through his nose. “It’s not that…”
“So what? It was good sex.” Itwas, which I think is part of what’s pissing me off. The last thing I wanted was sex with Kazimir Orlov to feel that fucking good. And it was fast, rough, messy… I can only imagine what it would feel like if he took his time, drew things out, did all the things we could do if there was time and no hard feelings between us.
But there’s no point in thinking about that. I don’t want him, and after this, I’m never going to see him again.
Good fucking riddance.
He swallows hard. "I shouldn't have—" He stops, and then starts again. "I should have pulled out. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."
Something vicious unfurls in my chest. Something that wants to hurt him the way I'm hurting. Because the truth is, while I haven’t been a virgin for a long time—by my own choice, long before I was sold off—I never allowed any man to ever come inside of me without protection. No one ever did, until the men who didn’t bother to ask about my preferences.
Kazimir was the first man I ever chose for myself who did. And he’s just made it into a regret.
"Don't flatter yourself," I hiss. “It’s not like I was a fucking virgin, Kazimir. It’s not such a shock.”
I can tell from the shock and brief flash of possessive anger on his face that he thought he was the first. And now he thinks I’veletsomeone else fill me up like that, felt them dripping down my thighs after, like I do right now.
I could correct him, but I don’t. I let him think that, because right now I want him to hurt, and I can see that he hates the thought.
"Svetlana—"
"What?" I turn toward him, resisting the urge to drop the towel and let him see the woman he just fucked again, taunt him with what he had and can’t ever have again. I’ve felt so ugly these past months, so broken, my body scarred and cut and bruised, a shadow of how beautiful I used to be. But Kazimir didn’t care. He wants me so badly he jerked off and still couldn’t stop himself from fucking me, and as much as I hate him, it felt as good as the orgasm did… to be desired again,reallydesired. "Did you think you were special? That this meant something?"
“No. Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. “But I shouldn’t have done that. So I’m sorry.”
"I'm fine." I walk over to the couch and reach for my clothes—the oversized shirt and pants that I left there earlier before going to shower. "I've had worse."
It's true and not true at the same time.
