“Yes, it fucking matters.”
“Why? In the end, I’ll only remember your headboard. It really is a sexy design.”
Gritting my teeth, I threw her to her back so roughly she bounced. I pushed inside of her in one hard thrust, braced my hands beside her head, and watched her eyes roll back. Her fingers gripped my wrists.
“Is this what you want?” I growled.
She was flushed from her orgasm, her breathing rough, but she still managed to say, “I want candles.”
It was so fucking ridiculous, my anger faded. Her soft hands slid down my sides and grabbed ahold of my hips to urge me on. I hated this position. Staring into a woman’s eyes during sex felt so intimate it was nauseating, but Mila wasn’t meeting my gaze; she was looking at where my cock was deep inside her. I found it hot and somewhat . . . annoying she was focused on the sight instead of my face.
“Move,” she breathed.
“No. You want your missionary fuck? Tell me who fucked you first.”
“You.”
She trailed her fingers up my arms, across my shoulders, and into my hair, sending a shudder down my spine.
“My name, kotyonok.”
“Ronan.”
A groan rumbled in my chest, and I started a steady pace, pushing into her with long, slow thrusts
. She braced her hands on the bed behind her and rose up to kiss my chest with a graze of teeth, running her mouth everywhere she could reach. I couldn’t bring myself to make her stop.
“Who’s fucking you now?”
Kissing the corner of my lips, she breathed, “Ronan.” Then she slid her tongue into my mouth, and I had no willpower to resist sucking it.
I fisted her hair and tugged her head back so I could see her eyes. “And who fucks you from now on?” Until Saturday. Everything in me hated the idea so much, I thrust into her hard, forcing her next word out with a moan.
“Ronan.”
I dropped to my elbows, relishing the feel of her tits against my bare chest. She wrapped her long legs around my hips, and when I rolled my pelvis to brush her clit, a sigh of pleasure escaped her.
I skimmed my lips down her neck. “You like that, kotyonok?”
She ran her nails down the length of my back in response, rolling her hips against mine with every thrust. Her little moans were so damn sexy, I kissed her to taste them. She sipped on my bottom lip and then ran her tongue across my scar. I exhaled roughly. Whenever she did that, it made me feel as if I’d been lacking something until she came around and licked me.
Her lips were so soft, and I parted them with my own, slipping my tongue inside. The kiss went straight to my chest.
“I want to . . .” She panted the words between the slide of my lips. “See you . . .” I sucked her bottom lip and released the flesh with a graze of teeth. “Come.”
“You first, kotyonok.”
I grabbed her hands, held them above her head, and grinded against her clit until she shattered beneath me. Then I pressed my face into her neck and came inside her, a white-hot fire shooting through me so hard, my vision went black. My muscles shook, so I rolled off her before I crushed her with my body weight.
I caught my breath for a moment and almost laughed at the irony. A virgin made me come harder than I ever had before. When I felt the mattress dip, I automatically grabbed her wrist without looking.
“I’m tired,” Mila said and pulled against my grip.
Sliding my gaze to her, I saw she was refusing to look at me, her eyes on the door as if she couldn’t wait to leave. I didn’t know why, but I found it fucking irritating. I yanked her ass back to the bed beside me. She exhaled in frustration, and then I noticed the tear running down her cheek. Fuck. My throat felt tight. I knew Mila couldn’t do a casual fuck. I knew, and I took it anyway.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Tell me to stop crying and then let me go.”
Instead, I brushed the tear away with my thumb. The wetness burned my skin and expanded a pressure in my chest that demanded I kiss her. So I did. She sighed into my mouth, her lips tentative against mine.