Control shatters completely.
I kiss her again, rougher this time. My hands find the tie of her robe, pull it loose. The fabric falls open and I push it off her shoulders, leaving her in just the thin nightgown. My palms slide up her thighs, pushing the silk higher, feeling her shiver under my touch.
“Aleksandr—” My name comes out breathless, uncertain.
“Elena.” I grip her hips, pull her to the edge of the desk so she feels exactly how much I want this. Want her. “Still hate me?”
“Yes.” Except her hands are in my hair now, pulling me back down.
I kiss her throat, her collarbone, anywhere I can reach while my hands map her body through thin silk. She arches into the touch, a small sound escaping that’s definitely not protest.
“Good,” I murmur against her skin. “Hold on to that hate. Use it.”
My hand slides between her legs, finding her already wet through the fabric. She gasps, hips jerking forward involuntarily.
“You hate me,” I say, thumb pressing against her through silk, “but your body knows better.”
“That’s not—” Her words dissolve into a moan when I push the fabric aside, fingers finding bare skin.
She’s slick and hot, already swollen with arousal she doesn’t want to admit. I circle her clit slowly, watching her face, cataloging every reaction—the way her mouth falls open, how her thighs tremble, the flush spreading down her neck.
“Look how wet you are,” I murmur, gathering her arousal on my fingers, letting her feel what her body is doing. “All this, and you still claim you don’t want me.”
“I don’t.” She gasps when I push one finger inside her, her walls clenching immediately around the intrusion.
“Liar.” I add a second finger, feeling how tight she is, how her body yields despite her protests. “Your cunt is telling a different story.”
She makes a sound between a sob and a moan, hips moving against my hand despite herself. I curl my fingers, finding that spot inside that makes her whole body jerk.
“There,” I say, stroking deliberately. “Right there. Feel that?”
“Please—” She doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.
“Please what? Please stop?” I pull my fingers almost all the way out. “Or please don’t stop?”
“Don’t—” Her hands fly to my shoulders, nails digging in. “Don’t stop.”
Victory surges through me. “Say it again.”
“Don’t stop.” Her voice breaks. “Please, don’t stop.”
I reward her honesty by returning my fingers to that spot inside her, thumb circling her clit in steady rhythm. Her legs shake on either side of me, body tensing as pleasure builds.
“That’s it,” I growl against her ear. “Take what you need. Show me how much you hate me.”
She comes with a sharp cry, inner walls pulsing around my fingers, thighs clamping tight around my hand. I work her through it, prolonging every wave until she’s shaking and gasping my name.
Before she can fully recover, I withdraw my fingers and work my belt open. Her eyes widen when she hears the clink of metal, the rasp of my zipper.
“Wait—”
“No.” I grip her hips, pull her to the very edge of the desk. “You want to know if those other women meant anything? You want proof you matter more?”
I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock already slick from her arousal.
“I’m going to fuck you right here, on this desk, so every time you walk past this room you remember who you belongto.” I push forward slowly, feeling her cunt stretch around me. “There won’t be any doubt left.”
She’s impossibly tight, her body resisting even as it yields. I go slowly despite every instinct screaming to bury myself in one thrust. Watch her face as I fill her inch by inch, her expression shifting from shock to overwhelmed to something that looks almost like relief.
