I can feel the orgasm building, tightening inside of me, more demanding and powerful than any climax I’ve ever felt. I can feel the muscles in my thighs twitching, my back arching, and I can feel it about to sweep over me, take me, drown me in pleasure.
“Fuck, Viktor, I’m going to come—”
I’ve never said it like that to him before, full of desire and need, giving myself over to it completely. I can feel my body start to convulse as I gasp it against his lips, spasming around him as I pull him deeper and begin to come hard, writhing beneath the weight of his body. He’s still thrusting as hard as he can against the clenching grip of my pussy around him as I come. I throw my head back, my hand tightening in his hair, pulling at it, and I moan loudly, not caring who hears. All I care about is how good this feels, about the pleasure rippling through me, driving me wild, making every bad thing disappear for a few minutes.
This kind of desire and pleasure is dangerous. It could make me want it again and again until I lose myself in a man that I can’t trust, can’t ever be an equal to, and shouldn’t love or want. The orgasm rocks my entire body, all the way down to my toes, and as soon as it starts to fade, I want another. I want more. I want to drown in pleasure and forget all the pain.
Viktor is slamming into me, fucking me hard and fast, and I feel him, hard and swollen inside of me, and I know he’s close. He’s breathless, blue eyes bright with desire, and he wraps his hand in my hair as he pulls my head back so that I’m forced to look up at him, our eyes meeting as I feel him start to throb inside of me with the onslaught of his coming orgasm.
“Fucking come for me again, Caterina,” he snarls, slamming into me again hard, and I cry out, my back arching as I feel my body start to obey him, my pussy clenching around him as my entire body tightens, wanting to hold him inside of me for as long as I possibly can.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs. “My body, my pussy, my fucking wife. And I’ll destroy anyone who ever dares touch you again.”
The words are electric, sparking over my skin, and I gasp, moaning as he surges forward into me again. I feel myself clenching around him, and then the sound that comes from him is almost animalistic as the first hot rush of his cum bursts inside of me.
Viktor throws his head back, the tendons in his throat taut as he groans aloud, hips pumping into me as he comes hard, spilling into me in waves. My hand presses against his chest, nails digging in, arching and grinding against him as I feel my body convulsing around his, his pleasure and mine twisting together, bursting over us both.
I want him to stay inside of me, to keep feeling this for as long as I possibly can. I don’t want it to stop. I feel him slump forward onto his forearms, and he whispers, “You’re mine,” against the shell of my ear. “And God help any man who tries to say otherwise.”
Something about it now thrills me. I’d always hated being possessed, being treated like an object, like a prize. Still, right now, it makes me feel a flush of arousal that I’ve never felt before, my heart leaping at the sound of his voice growling in my ear.
In the aftermath, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know whether to scoot out from under him, or push him away, or simply lie there. I’m suddenly very aware of the fact that I’m still wearing the oversized t-shirt pushed up around my hips and nothing else, bare from the waist down, and that Viktor is still fully clothed except for his open jeans.
His hair is falling over his forehead, making him look younger despite the grey at his temples and speckling the stubble on his chin. Despite myself, I reach up, touching his face where the hair is rough and short.
“I’ve never seen you not clean-shaven before,” I say quietly before I can stop myself. “I like it.”
“Oh?” Viktor raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He pauses, considering. “I suppose you wouldn’t have. If you like it—”
A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth, and I’m momentarily taken aback. It’s such a small, intimate moment. It feels like something between an ordinary married couple, the kind of thing a husband and wifeshouldsay to each other. Still, we’ve never had that kind of relationship. I’ve never considered for even a second that we would.
And yet, his gaze holds mine, as sweet and intimate as I could have ever hoped for, if I’d dared hope for such a thing.
And then he drops his head, his lips grazing over my neck, a soft caress that takes my breath away for an entirely different reason.
“I should get up,” I murmur, turning my face away, but he cups it in his palm instead, turning my eyes back to him.
“Why?” He smiles lazily. “No one will come into the cabin until I tell Levin otherwise. The security is outside, and the others will stay there.”
“They must be cold—”
Viktor laughs. “This is nothing. It’s a pleasant spring day outside to them.” His hands reach for the edge of my shirt as he kisses my neck again, pushing it up towards my waist and higher still, as if he wants to undress me. Alarm bells immediately start going off in my head.
I reach for his hands, pushing them down, and Viktor pauses, looking down at me quizzically.
“Do you not want me to touch you like this?”
The fact that he’s asking at all is startling. I blink up at him, my hands still wrapped around his in a bid to keep him from undressing me further.Do I want that?
I’m not sure if I do want him to stop, but I know I’m terrified of him seeing me naked under these circumstances, of seeing his desire go away once he gets a look at the body that is supposed to arouse him. All I have to offer a husband is power and beauty—what happens when half of that equation is gone?
“I don’t want you to see me naked like this,” I blurt out, once again before I can stop myself. I bite down on my lip the instant the words are out of my mouth, wondering what the fuck is wrong with me and why I can’t stop saying things to my husband that is more bare and honest than I’ve ever been with him. I shouldn’t trust him, Ican’t, so I shouldn’t allow myself to be so vulnerable. I should lock everything up as tightly as I can. Yet, somehow, everything that’s happened today seems to be laying me completely bare.
“What?” Viktor seems to look genuinely confused. “Like what?”
I blink at him. “My wounds. The ones that are already starting to scar. I don’t look anything like myself—I look sick, and thin, and hurt—I’m not beautiful anymore.”
“Caterina.” Viktor’s eyes widen slightly, and one of his hands pulls free of mine, letting go of my shirt and sweeping down my side. “Didn’t you see how much I wanted you just now? How could you think that I wouldn’t find you beautiful?”