The world surges, and she’s lying on her stomach suddenly.
“What—” She looks over her shoulder, about to protest; she should be outraged by how he moves her around like some doll—
“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.” He grabs the pillow by her head.
Lili does as he says, letting him slide it underneath her.
He straddles her legs, and she’s effectively trapped. His hands coast over her back, before tugging her hips towards him, hiking them up the pillow. She feels him, heavy and hot against her, and she grasps the sheets, bracing herself.
A glance of fingers run down her spine, a dangerously light touch.
“Did anyone else touch you, Lili?”
“What?” Why is he asking questionsnow?
“Last night.”
A memory snippet, her own voice:I could have had sex with so many people tonight. So many—
“Fuck,” she mutters.
His fingers slide into her hair. Not pulling, not yet. He slowly starts to push into her.
“I asked you a question. Did you let other people touch you like this?”
There’s too much cold flint in his voice. Lili forces a laugh to diffuse it. “Just my friends.”
In her hair, his hand tightens into a fist.
“I’m not your friend, Lili.”
He thrusts into her. White sears her vision, grip seizing in the sheets.“Jesus Christ—”
“Open up,” Aleksandr demands. “Isn’t this what you came here for?”
As he pulls out of her, she shakes with the release of pressure. It’s not a respite. As she relaxes, he pushes into her again, harder. Lili’s choked groan is shoved into the mattress with the force of him, the sudden saturation of rough ecstasy building.
Tears blister in her eyes. “You—you can’t just—”
He slams into her like she’s worthless. The stretch of it sears—and he’s still not fully inside her—and it can’t be good, how much this is—how overtaken she feels—and yet, how much she wants exactly this: the dark-throated bliss of losing her control, of having no choice.
“I can do whatever I want,” he says. “Especially to you.”
She moans: clear, specific, sharp—thewantof this; some fucked-up absolution of the burden of her own agency, just for a moment.
“There,” she gasps. “Right there—”
“Yeah?”
Lili nods so insistently she feels like a child in class with an answer. She squeezes her eyes shut as that blinding threat of oblivion grows louder, drowning her out. “That, that—please... I want that—”
She gasps—high, sudden—as his hips finally meet hers, as he fully buries himself in her.
Somehow, he’s fucking her deeper—harder—than before. Every time he moves, forcing her to accommodate him, it’s agonizing, a hot tide of pleasure, caught up with pain, and the exact type of overwhelm she wants so much that its need feels lodged in her throat, daily.
She feels ragged, the stitches of herself coming loose. This roughness grounds her in her own body, where she can—here, under him—want with indecency, without shame; she’s always been too much, or not enough, a dichotomy that makes her skin crawl.
Deeper. She wants him deeper, until she can’t think about anything but him.Erase me,is what she wants to say; keep taking until she’s nothing. Desperate, she pushes her hips back against him.
