A protest rises on my tongue but just as my lips part, Ruslan thrusts again and all that escapes me is a moan.
“Tell me,” he insists, slightly breathless. “Tell me or you won't get to come.”
“What?” My head snaps up and I dig my fingernails into his forearms. “Don’t you dare!”
“Oh, I dare.” He grins. “Tell me.”
“Fine,” I gasp as that tight pleasure begins to dissipate. “I’m beautiful!”
“Tell me you’re worthy.”
“I’m worthy!”
“Tell me you’re valued.”
“I-I’m valued!” Each time I speak, Ruslan resumes thrusting for a few seconds, but it’s never enough. It’s always just a teasing thrust that brings me back to the peak of pleasure and then fades.
“Now say it like you mean it.”
“I-I can’t,” I gasp, throwing my head back. “I can’t. It’s not… I just wanna…”
“What do you wanna do?”
“Let mecome!” I yell, clenching hard down around his cock. It draws a deep, filthy moan from the base of his throat and he laughs, then he kisses me.
“Make me believe it and I’ll let you come.”
I lose track of time. Over and over again, Ruslan makes me repeat my worth and rewards me with several thrusts that leave me dangling on the edge of an orgasm that never arrives. How he knows how to read my body is beyond me, but he plays me like an instrument.
“Now,” Ruslan gasps, panting to the same rhythm as me. “Tell me you understand that I care about you and nothing is going to change that. Tell me that you know there are people in this world who still want you around. Tell me.”
“Ahh!” He thrusts deep inside me, scratching that aching desire deep in my core but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. “I understand!” I gasp hoarsely, turning my sweaty face into his hot palm. “You care about me. You do. You care about me a lot. And the others do. They care. I-I’m not alone. I’m not!”
Ruslan kisses me hard and spends the next ten seconds fucking me hard and fast, dragging me over the edge and into an orgasm so powerful that I’m left gasping for air and trembling in his arms. Wave after wave of intense pleasure courses through me from head to toe, leaving a trail of shivers over my skin and jitters in my joints. Ruslan spills inside me almost simultaneously and then finally rolls off me. He lands on the bed and immediately pulls me into his strong arms.
As the covers drape over our shoulders, he kisses my forehead and caresses my hair. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”
“I’m sorry,” I croak.
“Don’t be.”
“I am, though. I… it felt like everything was over.”
“I know. And it will feel like that again, so don’t apologize. Don’t you dare.”
“But—”
“No, Ivy. You have nothing to apologize for, you hear me? Grief and pain… it can’t be explained. It justis. So I will be here for you, understand? I will be here and I will remind you as often as you need reminding, in any which way that gets through to you.”
The urge to apologize rises again, but I swallow it down and bury my face in his shoulder, eyes closed.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was falling in love with him, but those feelings on top of everything else inside me are too intense for me to focus on right now. Instead, I settle against him and run my fingertips over his abdomen until the lull of his breathing and the soothing warmth of his presence lull me off to sleep.
Somehow, I sleep through the night and wake the next morning still wrapped up in Ruslan’s arms. This time, I don’t have to pretend to be asleep to soak up his presence. I can just enjoy it. Yawning, I stretch my arms above my head while his arms tighten around me and he buries his face into the back of my neck.
“Good morning,” Ruslan murmurs.
“Morning,” I whisper, lightly kissing his forehead as I turn. Reaching over him, I pick up my phone and find a single message from Moira.
