I whimpered, too nervous for it to be a moan, too worked up to be silent.
The gun trembled, but my hands were too numb to feel much more.
The jeans restricted his range of motion, but they kept his hand snug between my thighs. He fought the zipper for movement, but he’d have to shift his knee out of the way—which meant he’d have to let me close my legs—and that wasn’t going to happen.
If I had to suffer, he could deal with the metal teeth cutting up his wrist.
I was too aware of his fingers—their size, their slow movement, them being attached tohim. We hadn’t touched this way, and I could think of nothing else for months.
Warmth drew my hips up, my legs trembling. It built when I focused, and died down when I remembered the firearm I held against Vitali’s throat. The loaded firearm.
“God…” I panted, and he smirked, but what I really meant was‘God, the gun—the gun!’ because it shook in my hands and he pressed into it harder, letting it (forcing it?!) to dig into the underside of his jaw.
I tried to take an even breath and swallowed, the whole of me fighting to ignore Vitali’s cruel intent. He pinched lightly, still rubbing, but now the movement began breaking into jerks.
He leaned down, the weapon digging into him as I stared in horror. “Sometimes things happen without warning,” he whispered, and slid a finger inside.
I gasped, my muscles tightening around him, and simultaneously felt his hard gulp against the barrel.
“Kotik…” he rasped as if the air was his last. The words trembled. “You’re a virgin…”
I gave him one voiceless, terrified nod.
He let out a full-body exhale, his pace slowing to something gentler.
His body shifted, and I could feel theslow, unrealized thrust of his hips in tandem with the movement of his fingers, caught in the moment—in me. God—but this was the true place between heaven and hell because every time I allowed myself to feel him, I snapped right back to the barrel of the gun. He saw this, and the pad of his finger massaged my insides just a little faster, firmer, and I’d start getting lost again.
His own breathing grew ragged, and knowing what this was doing to him inspired the thought that I might have to shoot myself just to escape the agony of what that did tome.
Just take a hand off. You can hold it with one hand. Just reach for him… feel how hard he is…
Because he was right there, like the night before New Year’s, back when Katya was a different woman, and he a different man. When he smeared my lipstick, and I saw him hard against the fabric of his pants. How many times had I imagined his cock? How many times had I touched myself since then, thinking of it in my hands.
And he was right there. And I couldn’t reach out and touch him.
His hand moved faster, and whimpered through clenched teeth. He slowed, and I arched to keep momentum. He didn’t like that, pinning me down—bad Kotik. This was his, on his terms, at his speed.
Lower the gun, grab hold of his coat, ride his fingers until he can’t handle not fu—
A quick spasm roused me into clutching the gun harder.Don’t lose focus, Katya, for God’s sake…
Was he laughing?
“Don’t. Lower. It.”
“I’m—” I tensed to keep the feeling steady, but now I couldn’t stop it from rushing at me. The living warmth spread andthreated to erupt through every nerve ending all at once. “I’m going to—”
“Now is when you’ll practice control,” he said through his own harsh, shallow breaths. No. He wasn’t laughing. “I’m not going to tell you not to cum—Katya—no, you have my permission. In fact, I’ll make sure you do. But it will be up to you and that trigger finger to ensure you don’t blow my head off when you do. Control.”
“I can’t!”
He wasn’t thrusting in and out anymore, but rather kept his hand in place, palm putting pressure against my clit as he added another finger, grinding them against the ridge alongside my bladder. The friction on the secret spot, one I hadn’t even known existed, built into an involutory tremble in my legs, ready to tip over my whole world.
To say my hips bucked would be dishonest because they fought against him with all the useless effort of someone who knows they’re going to die.Faster—faster—
Little black spots clouded my vision, and my eyes began to roll back. He wasn’t talking anymore. His eyes closed, his face strained with a trance-like expression, and the thought occurred to me that I could throw the gun—right then—just throw it far away and he wouldn’t noti—
My core seized violently, forcing a panicked yelp from my lips. He was dead. Vitali was dead. I was sure of it because it wasn’t possible that I hadn’t pulled the trigger back in my mortal body, which was now so far away.
