There was a smear of blood on his shaft when he glanced down, confirming what he'd just felt—the resistance, the tear.
"You're a virgin?" His voice was rough, laced with disbelief, but not disgust. If anything, his cock twitched inside me, growing even harder. He traced a hand down my side, fingers splaying over my hip, like he was appreciating the body beneath him anew.
"This beautiful body... untouched? Shit, that's a surprise. You feel incredible—tight, perfect. Like you were made for this."
I blinked up at him, my own shock mirroring his, but for different reasons. Beautiful? Me? The word hit like a punch, stirring up all the insecurities I'd buried under baggy clothes for years.
"Y-you think it's... beautiful?" I whispered, voice trembling as the initial pain ebbed into a throbbing ache that begged for movement.
My curves, the softness I'd always hated—the extra weight on my hips, the fullness of my breasts that made me feel frumpy and undesirable. Guys had never looked twice, and here he was, this god of a man, buried inside me and calling it perfect.
"I-I always thought... I mean, I'm not skinny like those models. I figured no one would want—hmm..." My words trailed off into a moan as he shifted slightly, the friction sending sparks through me.
He chuckled low, almost tender, but his eyes darkened with hunger. "Beautiful? Hell yes. These curves..." He gripped my breast, kneading the soft flesh, thumb flicking over my nipple until it pebbled. "They're fucking gorgeous. Soft, real—made for a man's hands. And this pussy? Gripping me like it never wants to let go. I'm your husband now, Harper. That means I get to enjoy every inch of you."
His hips rocked experimentally, a shallow thrust that made me gasp, the pain mixing with pleasure as my body adapted, walls fluttering around his length.
I nodded, biting my lip, tears pricking my eyes—not from hurt, but from the overwhelming rush of emotions. He thought I was beautiful. This powerful, untouchable man, who could have anyone, was looking at me like I was a prize.
"O-okay... husband," I breathed, testing the word, feelinga shiver run through me as I said it. It felt right, even if this marriage was a sham. Right now, with him filling me so completely, it felt real.
Kirill groaned at the title, like it flipped a switch. He pulled out slowly, almost all the way, letting me feel every ridge and vein dragging along my sensitive walls, then slammed back in, deeper this time.
I arched, a cry escaping as pleasure exploded outward, drowning the remnants of pain. He set a rhythm—steady, powerful thrusts that had the bed creaking, his balls slapping against my ass with each drive. One hand pinned my hip, holding me in place, while the other roamed, squeezing my thigh, tracing up to pinch my nipple, sending jolts straight to my core.
"Fuck, you take me so well," he rasped, voice husky with approval. "Look at you, spreading for your husband like a good girl." He angled his hips, hitting that spot deep inside that made stars burst behind my eyes.
I moaned louder, hands clutching his back, nails raking down his skin as the pressure built, coiling tight in my belly. He was relentless, pounding into me, the wet sounds of our bodies joining, obscene and hot. Sweat slicked our skin, his chest pressing against mine, the friction of his body hair against my sensitive nipples adding to the overload.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, meeting his thrusts with desperate rolls of my hips.
"Kirill... please," I begged, not even sure what for—more, harder, everything. He obliged, speeding up, his control fraying as he chased his own release. One hand slipped between us, fingers finding my clit, rubbing firm circles that had me teetering on the edge.
"Come for your husband again," he commanded, lips brushing mine in a messy kiss, tongue delving in to mimic his cock's rhythm.
The orgasm hit like a tidal wave, ripping through me, my pussy clenching hard around him, milking his length with violent, rhythmic spasms. I screamed his name—then the pleasure surged too sharp, too bright, too much. My vision bleached white, ears filled with roaring static, every muscle locking in one endless, shattering convulsion.
I came so hard the world simply switched off.
Everything went dark.
Sunlight stabbedthrough the curtain gaps, yanking me from my sore, aching body.
I turned my head slowly.
The spot beside me was empty, but the pillow dent proved someone had been there.
My heart squeezed tight, fear crashing in.
Had Kirill bailed? Regretted hooking up with a girl like me, so he split fast?
A soft metal snap shattered the silence.
I bolted up, ignoring the twinges.
Kirill was still there, standing by the huge floor mirror, back to me.
God.
