“Stay,” I grit out, testing her weight to make sure she’ll stay on her knees before I let go.
Gripping her tight globes, I pull them apart. There’s no time for better lubrication than my saliva. I spit generously, yank my cock from her pussy, and press the head against the hole I’m about to claim.
“Yan.”
She reaches around, trying to grab my wrist, but her movement stills when I plunge forward. The tight ring of muscle gives with a soundless pop, her body yielding under the merciless pressure. She cries out, a frightened sound.
I freeze.
Fuck. What am I doing? She’s so tight her ass must be virgin.
“It’s all right.” My voice is hoarse with the dark need burning inside me, but my touch is gentle as I smooth a palm over her spine. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.”
She relaxes slightly at the promise, and I swear at myself again.
This is no way to initiate anal sex. She needs a warning in advance, lots of preparation. I start to pull out, but she grabs my arm.
“No,” she says softly. “I want this.”
I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to thrust in, hard. “We should wait.”
“I’m done waiting. Life’s too short.”
Her words jar me. There’s something melancholic about them. I want to ask what she means, but she’s pushing back, straining against me, and my cock slips an inch deeper.
Goddamn. She’s killing me. “Mina.” I lock my hands around her waist. “Slow down. I don’t want to tear you.”
She doesn’t listen. She rolls her hips, nearly driving me insane. I fight hard for control, ignoring the violent need boiling inside me. It takes everything I have and more to stretch her slowly with short, gentle thrusts. Every time her tight inner muscles adapt to the intrusion, I give a little more, shoving a bit deeper. The squeeze around my cock is almost unbearable. I grit my teeth as I make slow progress, fighting the urge to come each second I’m inside her.
Tearing my gaze away from where our bodies are connected, I look at Mina’s face. Her cheeks are red and her eyes hazy. A droplet of perspiration runs down her temple and drips on the sheet. I drag a hand over her flank up to her breast, caressing her nipple with one hand while slipping the other between her legs. Her ass dilates faster when I play with her clit. By the time I’m buried up to my balls, we’re both on the verge of coming. All it takes are a few long strokes and two swipes over her clit. She cries out my name as her ass clenches on my cock and her pussy around the finger I ruthlessly shove inside. Every muscle in her small frame draws tight.
Her orgasm triggers mine. I come the hardest I have in my life, filling her up with hot spurts of cum that don’t stop for several seconds. She collapses under me again, and I go down with her, covering her body with mine but making sure to keep my weight on my elbows. Nuzzling her neck, I plant soft kisses on her shoulder and down her spine. I stay inside her as long as she allows me. It’s only when she moans that I gently pull out.
Kneeling between her spread legs, I look at my work. It’s devastation and reverence all in one, an explosive mix of dark lust and beautiful passion. It may be wrong, unconventional, but that’s how it is between us. However twisted, this is who we are when we become one, and I’m already greedy for more. Forever with her won’t be enough. And it’s not a new notion. With every stolen glimpse and granted touch, the feeling is getting stronger.
Her body is so damn small. My fingers overlap when I circle her waist. Placing a palm between her shoulder blades, I feel her chest expand with breaths, and I soak in the reassurance of her heartbeat. It’s a wild rhythm. Even if I tried to take it easy, the sex must’ve been hard on her tiny frame. I check for blood or signs of bruising and sag in relief when I find none.
Rolling her onto her back, I kiss her gently. I cup her face and caress her like a man who lays himself at a woman’s feet. I want to give her this for the gift she’s given me. It’s inadequate, but it’s all I have that truly matters. It’s more than money and gifts, but nothing as prosaic as love.
Ours is not a sweet romance. It’s larger than love. Darker than love. And it’s hers. All hers.
After a long while of kissing, I pull back to look at her face. She’s a little pale, but she’s smiling.
“I thought you weren’t going to kiss my mouth,” she says, stretching her arms above her head.
“I lied.”
She pouts. “That’s not nice.”
Her playfulness is enticing, but I’m not biting yet. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“A little.”
I like her honesty. I much prefer it to her lies. “Does it hurt still?”
“It burns a little.”
Getting up, I lift her into my arms and carry her to the bathroom. We shower together. It’s tender. It’s nice. Just like that, we’re back to the way we were, as if Budapest never happened. A gnawing tenseness darkens my mood when I think of the man she met, but I push it aside. I don’t want to spoil the moment.
While I pull on my clothes, I watch her dress from under my eyelashes. I drink her in until I feel drunk on the novelty of having her back here, in my space. This is where she’ll fucking stay. I don’t care if she wants him. I’ll give her more, and in time, she’ll forget about him.
I’ll make it so good for her
