I’m doing this,I think dimly.Me. My body. It feels so good that he can barely control himself—
“Oh fuck,” he moans again, and I can feel that my body’s reaction has made it easier than before for him to keep going, to slide another inch and then another, until suddenly he’s leaning forward over me, his eyes still closed, and I realize that every inch of him is buried inside of me.
It did hurt. It still does, a little, but I can already feel the pain receding, replaced by something else—an ache, all the way down to my core, a need for something that I can’t quite describe.
“Luca,” I whisper, his name spilling from my lips despite myself, and his eyes fly open, meeting mine, his body trembling above me.
I see the moment that his control breaks. I see him trying to rein it in, trying to remain detached, trying to make this the cold duty that he framed it as earlier. But when he hears my voice whispering my name, I can almostfeelwhat snaps inside of him, his entire body jerking as his hips arch against mine, and he lets out a deep, shuddering moan.
“Sofia,” he groans, and then his lips come crashing down onto mine.
What am I doing?The thought screams through my mind, but my body is already reacting, my arms winding around his neck as his mouth slants over mine, his tongue thrusting between my lips as his cock thrusts into me again, and I feel my legs spreading open for him, my hips rising up to meet him as he slides into me. It feels good—not what I felt last night, not that tight, building, aching need to come, but something tells me that it could be that, eventually.
And everything else—oh, god. His skin against mine, warm and hot and smooth, the taste of his mouth, the vibrating sensation of his moans against my lips, his hands roving over my body as he loses himself in me. Even last night, he was in control, but all of that is gone now. There’s only the surging wave of his body inside of mine, his cock thrusting over and over again in long, slow strokes that get faster as his breathing speeds up, matching mine as I arch against him, wanting to be closer. I’ve never felt anything like this before, and I’m beyond thinking about what this means—for me, for us, for our future. All I care about is the heat of his body against mine, the press of my breasts into his chest, the way I can feel him surrounding me in every way, and I have the sudden, desperate thought that I never want it to stop.
“Luca, Luca—” I cry out his name suddenly, arching against him tightly as I feel something shudder through me—not an orgasm, but some deep, primal urge to be close to him. It’s as if I know he’s close, and I’m right, because in the next moment he suddenly buries his face in my neck, another deep groan spilling from him as he thrusts hard into me. I feel his hips rock against me, as if he wants to sink even deeper, his cock impossibly hard, and his hands dig into the pillows on either side of my head, his entire body convulsing with deep, wracking shudders.
The moment it’s over, he goes very still. His body hovers over mine, not quite lying on me, and then just as quickly, he rolls off of me, standing up.
I feel cold at the loss of his touch. Just as quickly as he lost control he regains it, the connection between us severed. Luca doesn’t look at me as he peels the condom off, striding towards the bathroom to dispose of it and leaving me there, naked on the bed. My body feels strange, still turned on and unsatisfied, suddenly hollow where he was a few minutes ago. I want to grab the blanket and cover myself, but I can’t seem to move, frozen to the spot as I wait for Luca to come back.
He turns the lights on when he steps out of the bathroom, flooding the room with light, and I blink rapidly, my stomach tightening as he strides towards me. Every sign of the man who just lost control while he was inside of me, who kissed me and touched me like he was starving, like he wanted nothing more than me, is gone. His expression is steely again, his green eyes emotionless, and he stops at the edge of the bed, his gaze flicking down to the space between my legs.
I see his expression change in an instant, from flat to angry, his jaw clenching, and I instinctively tense.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper, looking at him nervously. “Luca—”
“You didn’t bleed.” His voice is cold, laced with the kind of cold, passionless anger that’s more frightening than raw fury.
“What?” I scoot away from my spot on the bed, sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest. The sheet is still smooth and white. “I guess I didn’t—”
“You lied to me.” He bites off every word, his stony green eyes latching on to mine. “You fucking lied to me, Sofia. And you mademelie, except it wasn’t really a lie—” he starts to laugh then, bitterly, shaking his head. “What a fucking mess—”
“I didn’t lie!” I exclaim, staring at him. “I’d never been with anyone before, surely you could tell that—”
“You were tight, but that doesn’t mean anything. Maybe you just weren’t a slut, like your little Russian friend.” His words are a hiss, his anger rising with every sentence. “You fucking lied to me, you little bitch, you almost got me killed—”
“I didn’t lie!” I shriek the words, suddenly terrified at this new level of anger. “I didn’t lie, Luca, I swear.”
“Then why didn’t you bleed?” he roars. “I have to haveproof, Sofia, proof for Rossi in the morning that I fucked you, that you’re my wife, or we’re both dead!”
I stare at him, unbelieving. My fear recedes suddenly in the face of the absolute ridiculousness of this whole situation, this whole stupid, convoluted worry about my fuckingvirginity,which only ever meant anything to me because it was a way to keep some part of myself separate from him. Now he’s gotten what he wanted, he’s fucked me, and it’s still not enough. I start to laugh, almost hysterically, shaking my head.
“What’s so fucking funny?” Luca snaps.
“You men,” I say, shaking my head. “You stupid, self-involved,arrogantmen. You’re fucking idiots, you know that?”
Luca looks at me coldly. “What?”
“Not all women bleed,” I tell him flatly. “I thought I might, and you were so insistent that we had to have sex, and I didn’t even really think about it because I was so shocked and scared by the whole situation—but Luca, not every woman bleeds the first time. There’s a million ways that can happen without ever having sex—hell, the ballet lessons I took as a kid might have done it. Yoga. Whatever.” I glare at him.
“You’re fucking kidding me.”
“No.” I stifle another round of laughter. “You men and your all-important dicks, you think you’re so special, that we all just gush blood the first time you stick it in us?” I can’t keep the anger out of my tone. “You were so desperate to take my virginity, but even that wasn’t enough. You have to make sure I fucking bled for you.”
“This isn’t a joke, Sofia,” Luca warns. “Rossi isn’t going to care.” He rubs his hand over his mouth, his features drawn with tension and worry. “It’s an outdated custom by any way of looking at it, I already told you that. But he’s an old-fashioned man, and he wants proof that you’re my wife in every possible way. He said—” Luca stops suddenly, pressing his lips together.
“What?” I ask, my heart suddenly fluttering in my chest. “What did he say?”