3
ONCE AGAIN, HIS STRICT TONE made it impossible to do anything but obey, and yet my anxiety leapt to a whole new level. You can fool around a little bit, the wicked, tequila-enhanced voice in my head whispered. He didn’t tell you to get on the bed.
I went to the couch and sank down until the leather was cold against the backs of my legs. My hands tensed into fists around the hem of my skirt, holding it in place as Luka turned the small dial on the doorknob. I couldn’t hear the click of the lock sliding in place, but I felt it. It snapped through my body like a bolt of electricity.
As he stalked toward me, he swayed. No, wait, was that me? The tequila was working fast. Luka’s expression shuttered, and then he licked his lips. Was it intentional? Was I a meal he was about to devour? I crossed my legs beneath the skirt, feeling twitchy and weirdly achy.
My head ticked back with each step he took so I could keep looking up at him.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked in a light voice.
My hand flew to my face, confirming it was true. I was buzzing hard and had reached the first level of my drunkenness. Phase one, the uncontrollable smiling.
“Nothing,” I answered quickly and tried to look sober.
Luka didn’t seem to buy it as he sat beside me. Right beside me. As his weight came down on the couch, I fell into him, one hand bracing myself on his thigh. Beneath the fabric of his pants, the muscle was hard, and I stroked the length. Wait, what was I doing? Petting him? I ripped my hand back, embarrassed.
He leaned in so his lips were by my ear, and he gave one of my ponytails a small tug. “Are you getting shy on me?”
My cheeks burned hot. I was, but didn’t want to admit it. Every breath I took was a struggle to sound normal and not rushed. I’d been metering it out, hoping he couldn’t hear how nervous or excited he made me.
“No,” I answered. “I’m fine.” I commanded myself to touch him casually, and rested my hand on his thigh once again. “I haven’t been thinking about this for the last two years or any—”
I snapped my mouth shut, horrified. Shit! I was never drinking tequila again. How in the world had I said that out loud?
“Have you?” he asked. His breath ruffled the wisps of hair over my ears, drawing more shivers. His hand found my knee and gently urged me to uncross my legs. “You’ve thought about touching me?” His fingertips skated along the inside of my thigh, and I watched in disbelief as my legs fell open. Encouraging him.
I was reeling and he took advantage. This time I didn’t stop him when his fingers went all the way up my skirt. They settled right at the junction of my legs, and I flushed hot. Could he feel how badly I was turned on? It was so embarrassing, but I couldn’t stop him. All I could do was stare, just as I’d done two years ago in that classroom.
Yet it wasn’t only the environment and situation that were different, it was Luka as well. His face was hauntingly serious, like he’d aged ten years from that final day in December when I’d last seen him.
“What happened to you?” I asked in a whisper. The alcohol had disrupted my ability to filter anymore.
His eyebrow lifted. “What?”
“You look different.”
His fingers stirred and applied pressure, pulling a gasp from me, but he didn’t slow down. “Not as much as you.” The pads of his fingers danced and manipulated, each stroke bringing foreign pleasure. So different than my own touch, and he shifted closer as if making himself comfortable. “I never got to see this perfect body you were hiding under all those clothes.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned, unable to contain it. “I’m not perfect.”
“Tell me you weren’t five minutes early to every class. Say you didn’t care how you looked, or how neat your homework was,” he said. “Even your scratch notes were clean. Go on and lie to me.”
My body reveled in his touch even though my mind was chaos. I endured his teasing, unable to do anything but process. Holy crap, it felt so good. My head tipped up, thudding onto the back of the couch as he touched me. Blood rushed loudly in my ears, drowning out the sound of the music pounding from below us, and my eyes fell closed.
Was I that obvious to him? It was important to me that I looked my best. That I always tried my best.
“You like this?” Luka’s voice seemed to invade my head.
There was no reason to lie, he could feel how terribly excited I was. “Yes.”
Pleasure built in waves, each bringing more heat to the fire. His two fingers rubbed aggressively on my clit and I choked back a moan.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I lifted my head and found his gaze. Luka was turned, leaning into me, his face only a breath away. His forearm disappeared beneath the plaid fabric of my skirt, but the movement of his wicked hand was obvious.
I swallowed a breath as his fingers curled around the crotch of my panties and pulled them to the side. His deep eyes studied me like a hunter watching his trapped prey. His fingers stroked over my slick, heated flesh, which made my heart gallop and my hands clench into a death grip on my skirt.
His finger eased inside.
To the first knuckle, and then he pushed deeper. My mouth dropped open, rounding into a silent, “Oh.” The stretch of his intrusion was pleasurable, but the idea of it was infinitely hotter. The man I had lusted after for what felt like forever, was now between my legs, touching me. Possessing me.
Luka’s thick finger retreated and slowly pressed inside me once more. I whimpered. It was quiet, but he certainly heard it. His gaze hooded, making him look intoxicated. I had the strange feeling he was drunk off of me, and not just the alcohol. At least, I hoped.
“Tell me,” he said, “what you thought about me doing to you.”
It was hard to do that. My brain was sluggish and foggy, swirling from the tequila. I felt reckless and stupid, and unable to think of a reason why I shouldn’t tell him the truth.
“This,” I whispered. “You touching me.”
“Yeah?”
He kept his finger buried inside as he moved over me, kneeling between my legs. He smoothed his other hand down the front of his pants, massaging himself for a moment, but he didn’t keep it there long. It slipped around the back of my neck, cupping at the nape. Something dark and dangerous flickered in his eyes. A second finger worked to join his other inside my body.
The warm hand on my neck yanked, hauling me up to him abruptly. His mouth crashed against mine, and it drove me down further on his fingers. It stung. I wasn’t used to so much, and not so suddenly. My hands flattened on his shoulders to push him back, but then the fingers were moving, just as his tongue was moving in my mouth. It was too hot to stop him, and the sting gave way to pleasure.
“What else?” he asked between immobilizing kisses.
“What else, what?” Everything was spinning when I closed my eyes, so I had no choice but to leave them open. I’d moved onto phase two of drunkenness, the spins.
“What else do you want me to do, Addison?” He moved at a leisurely tempo while his gaze was fixated on my mouth.
I couldn’t vocalize. I was far too shy to speak them out loud. Instead, I curled my grip into the meaty parts of his arms, digging my nails in. I couldn’t say anything, but I no longer had shame or anxiety about how I was acting. His touch liberated the wildness I always kept tamped down. I wasn’t worried he knew I fantasized about him, although I was certain regret would come later. Not now, though. All I could do was marvel at how good he made me feel.
Electricity roved over my skin as he increased the pace his fingers slid in and out. My knees trembled and locked around his hips, doing so without any authorization from me. Luka’s palm inched down my neck with each deep thrust he gave. I both wanted and didn’t want him to touch me where he was headed. My body ached for it, but my chest was heaving and he’d be able to feel how hard my heart was pounding.
His soft, damp lips were pressed to mine, swallowing my moan, and then he was lifting my breast. The weight of it filled his hand, and a thumb slid back and forth, teasing the nipple through my shirt and bra.
I could barely breathe. Luka’s hands worked flawlessly, touching me just as I wanted them to, holding me on the cusp of something new and interesting. I’d never been with a confident partner before, and now I was sure I didn’t want to go back.
His fingers captured my nipple between the layers of fabric and pinched. The tension built as he squeezed harder and harder, but his tongue filled my mouth and kept me quiet when he closed in on pain. It was a weird sensation as his pinch grew hot and achy. I . . . liked it. I wanted to know how much more I could take.
Yet it grew past the point of tolerable. I inhaled sharply when it became too much, and both his lips and his pinch were gone, making me sway in his absence. Luka’s expression was deadly serious, as if deep in concentration.
“Oh!” I bucked when the pad of his thumb circled above where his fingers were driving. It was fireworks. Bliss sparked and flared, and made me crazy with need. It had to hurt, how I was digging my fingernails into his flesh, but he said nothing. There was no indication in his expression that I was hurting him.
His lips parted to draw in a single breath, and then he slowly blew it out, all while watching me squirm beneath him.
“Shit,” I moaned under my breath.
The corner of his mouth curled up. Luka liked this reaction. His fingers slowed to a stop but stayed inside, lingering. Was he judging me, and more importantly, did I pass whatever test he was putting me through? He withdrew his fingers and they trailed up through my slit. “Did you think about me putting my mouth here?”
I jolted. I had, but I was too nervous to say it.
His face hardened, like he was annoyed I hadn’t answered him. “Open your mouth.”
It was easy to do since my mouth fell open on his command. And then his wet fingers were there, smearing my own taste on my lips. He shoved them inside and I closed my mouth around them, causing Luka’s nostrils to flare. He pulsed the fingers in and out, simulating how he most likely wanted me to use my mouth on him.
The salty, slightly sweet taste of myself wasn’t unpleasant, but the action . . . It was so dirty, I shuddered. He leaned in and set his mouth against mine, tasting me in more than one way. When had I surrendered to him so completely? Was it that first moment he’d kissed me, or before, when I’d agreed to another round of blackjack downstairs? Maybe it had been from the very beginning. My crush on him had been intense, but that made sense to me. I didn’t half-ass anything in my life, so why would my infatuation with him be any different?
“Answer me.” It was quiet, but firm from him. “Did you think about me going down on you?”
“Sort of.”
Confusion flooded his expression. This was not an answer he was anticipating. “What does that mean?”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to see judgment in the dark eyes staring back at me, but the spinning was worse. So I set my gaze across the room, away from Luka. “I did, but I don’t know what that feels like.”
His broad shoulders tensed beneath my hands. “You don’t . . . ?” He took a breath. “Holy shit, you’re a virgin?”
He’d taken the small leap, but assumed correctly. I pressed my lips together and nodded quickly.
I’d had the opportunity to lose my V card once, on prom night, of all clichés. My timid boyfriend and I had parked at the marina, hidden behind the boats in dry-dock, and gotten into the back seat. Five minutes into the heavy makeout session, he’d blurted out the least romantic thing I’d expected.
“I’ve got a condom so we should fuck.”
The ensuing conversation was so uncomfortable, it hadn’t just ruined the evening, it had ruined our relationship. There’d been no prospects since that night. I’d gone on a few dates when I got to Randhurst, but there’d been no connection. No spark. Or we’d hit the roadblock of my inexperience and it weirded him out. Time only made me less confident in my ability to find a partner who’d be a good match. Someone intelligent, driven like me, and willing to deal with my social awkwardness.
My anxious gaze drifted back to Luka’s. Was he as disappointed as the other boys had been when they learned I’d never given it up?
No, he wasn’t disappointed.
He gave a wicked smile and looked thrilled. He straightened and his gaze slid down the length of my body. It came to rest exactly where his palms moved to, my knees. And then both began to work their way up my thighs.
“How?” he asked. “Why?”
“Why?” How was I going to explain? It didn’t matter, the tequila made me mouthy and I spoke without thought. “The guy I was with . . . didn’t deserve it.”
Luka’s pleased expression was even better than his displeased one. “Fuck, perfect,” he said. “Let me show you what it feels like.”
I snagged my bottom lip between my teeth as anxiety fluttered in my belly. His fingers were up my skirt, tugging at the waistband of my panties, urging them down.
“Wait, wait.” My hands flew out to stop his, but it didn’t work. He tugged one side down and then the other, working the panties toward my knees. Excitement bubbled inside me.
“Don’t worry, good girl,” he teased. “You can keep these on.”
I trembled as the black cotton panties were bunched at my knees, and the tremble was more pronounced when Luka guided me to lift one leg free of the fabric. The panties dropped down my calf and hung at my ankle, where he gave them a tug.
“See? Still on.” His expression was sinful.
I was aware I was in over my head, even as I reached the final stage of drunkenness—inability to organize thoughts. His warm palms pressed open my knees and he bent at the waist, lowering his face between my legs.
A trembling hand—my own—clamped over my lips to keep me quiet as he pushed my skirt out of his way. There was nowhere else to look but at the man licking his lips while he stared at my nakedness. It was indecent, and holy hell, he made me feel good. Desired like nothing else. He closed the last of the distance and claimed me with his mouth.
My moan was loud, but quieted against my palm, when something warm and soft stroked me. I jolted. He did it again, and again, and each one wrung a new moan from my shaking body. It felt amazing. Better than amazing. I didn’t want him to ever stop.
I was gulping down air through my nose, and slapped my other palm on top of my mouth for further protection from getting too loud. My knees tried to close, but his hands were on the tops of my thighs, forcing them apart. Holding me open for him as he feasted.
The swirling tongue did nothing to help my spinning issue, nor did his lips closing and sucking on the tight bud at the center of my pleasure. I bucked and groaned into my hands, my back arching from the couch, only for me to slump back down against it.
It was abruptly cold as he sat back, taking the heat of his mouth with him. He stared at me with lust-heavy eyes, and his hand ran between my legs. “You’re so fucking wet.” The hand slid over me and smeared the wetness all along the inside of my thighs. “Christ, feel how bad this virgin pussy wants me.”
It was shocking, and although part of me was unhappy with the vulgarity, another part was terribly turned on. I’d thought Luka and I were the same, but in this room? We were polar opposites. All of my inexperience and shyness was a void he filled with his ultra-confidence, trapping me in his power.
He leaned back down and his warm breath spilled over me. That devious tongue slicked over my clit, fluttering with urgency, and heat built inside me at an exponential rate. Each stroke made me groan with choked pleasure. I peered into his eyes that were focused back on me intently, and my cheeks flushed red-hot. How could I watch him while he was doing something so intimate? Yet I couldn’t stop myself. My hands moved of their own accord, my nails gouging into his shoulders.
I closed in on the mounting release. It was . . . intense. It felt like an electrical surge as his relentless tongue cast me over the edge into a searing fire. When the shudders descended on my body, I let the waves carry me away. I should have cared about how he viewed me, but I didn’t. The only thing I could think about was the pleasure coursing along my spine, pulling me into bliss.
Overwhelming sensations flooded along my nerve endings. Heat. Ecstasy. Desire. When my orgasm released me, my hands fell away from this shoulders and I went slack and boneless against the leather cushions.
For a moment, there was only the sound of my rapid breathing and the thumping bass from downstairs, and then Luka rose up, wiping his mouth. His lips bowed into the faintest smile, making him look seductive and dangerous. He undid the utility belt around his hips and the gun thudded to the floor. It sounded too heavy to be plastic.
“Unbutton your shirt.”
He never asked me to do anything. It was always a command. Yet in the aftermath of the orgasm, I was euphoric, so I teased him. “You think you can tell me what to do?”
His serious expression didn’t change. “Yes.”
When he didn’t move or say anything else, I sobered. He was waiting impatiently on me to follow his order, but I’d already done more with him than I’d meant to. It was insane how quickly I’d allowed him to get under my skirt. I barely knew him, and I wasn’t a one-night fling kind of girl.
“I’m, uh . . . not sure—” I mumbled, letting my gaze fall downward.
Strong hands seized mine and tugged me up until I was sitting on the edge of the couch. Luka set our hands together on his collarbones, his palms pressing against the backs of my hands. “Undo one.”
I blinked away my confusion. He wanted me to undo one of his buttons? The chest beneath my fingers was hard and lean, and I wanted to see what was below the navy uniform. I’d only fantasized about it for two years, and he was telling me to take a peek . . . My fingers were clumsy as I undid the first button below the collar of his dress shirt.
Luka’s fingers weren’t clumsy. They were nimble as he unfastened my blouse button, which sat an inch above my cleavage. He could hold his liquor much better than I could. He seemed barely drunk, whereas I was getting worse. My brain moved sluggishly along, struggling to keep up.
“Now another.” His voice was low, but firm.
My mouth went dry, but I could do this. It wasn’t quite as real when he was the one undoing my shirt, versus myself. I popped open his next button, revealing tan, smooth skin below. I tensed as he tugged at my shirt, freeing another button so my black bra was exposed. His gaze drifted down, taking in my average-sized breasts encased in black satin.
“All of them,” he said. This time his voice was tinged with something that sounded a lot like excitement.
I swallowed thickly as I undid the rest of the line of buttons, and sat back. He rewarded me by pulling the shirttails free from his waistband and left the unbuttoned shirt to hang open. Holy hell, there was faint definition of his abdominals. My gaze roved over his chest and I tried not to let it show how badly I wanted to touch him.
Things grew hazy when he hurried to undo and throw open my shirt. His mouth was on my neck, carving a path down my collarbone. I shivered when his whiskers scraped along my skin. Fingers were inside my bra, tugging the cups down, and then his mouth locked on a nipple. It snapped into a hardened point as his tongue swiped over it, and the dull ache between my legs grew hot and sharp.
I gasped as he nipped with teeth, hard enough it hurt, but instantly his kiss soothed the burn away. How did he do that? I shut my eyes and let him suck at me while I hung on, my fingers laced through his thick hair. To hell with the spinning, I thought.
A noise of surprise broke free from my throat when he abruptly grabbed my shoulders and flung me down on my back on the couch cushions. Everything moved so fast, and I didn’t enjoy the sensation of being out of control. It was unfamiliar and scary. I had to concentrate and force myself to stay active, because the tequila made me slow and indifferent.
Luka’s hands and mouth were still focused on my breasts as he settled on his knees between my legs. When I tried to scoot back and sit up, he lifted his head and shot me a surprised look. Did I appear as nervous as I felt?
He blinked slowly, and then returned to his task, running his lips over one of my peaked nipples. “We’ve still got all our clothes on.” His words were soft and almost playful. “How much trouble can we really get in?”
The leather couch squealed as he shifted, sliding down along the length of my body. My stomach trembled beneath his scattered kisses. Was he going to . . .
Yes. The skirt was shoved up and his mouth was fire. This time I dug my fingers into my own skin, clutching at the tops of my thighs as he went down on me. The sight of Luka kneeling between my legs and licking me was unbelievable. Muscles low in my belly clenched, tensing to the point of pain.
That was exactly what he did to me. Made me want him so badly it hurt.
“I like that I’m the only one,” he whispered, “who knows what you taste like.”
I dragged air in and out of my body, watching him nuzzle my most sensitive part. He wasn’t gentle. He attacked me like we were under an approaching deadline, rushing me along. Maybe we were. Perhaps the alcohol would wear off soon and I’d come to my senses about how irresponsible I was being.
But perhaps he’d realize any second how ridiculous this was, really. He would figure out that the quivering virgin spread beneath him was too shy and awkward to play in his world.
“Oh!” My back arched high off the cushions as he plunged a finger inside me. The action, combined with his tongue, was too much to stay quiet through. I moaned and writhed as he teased me mercilessly. The finger pulsed in and out, injecting me with pleasure. He made me feel so good . . .
Luka sat back on his heels and both hands hurried to undo his belt and zipper. The air in the room went arctic.
“Wait!” Panic gripped me, locking my muscles.
He leaned over and put one hand on the cushion beside my head. “Shh, relax.” His voice was soothing, and followed immediately by his lips on mine. His kiss was slow and sweet. “We’re just going to put skin on skin.” His lips continued to assault and persuade, speaking and then kissing. “Did you like my mouth here?” His hand pressed to my damp body, touching my clit. “I’m going to put my cock on you, Addison. I’m going to tease you with it until you come.”
I shuddered, alight with excitement and trepidation. His belt clinked as it tumbled open, and he pulled his pants off of his hips, one side, then the other. His statement was technically true. We still had our clothes on, but it was really a lie. I was completely exposed with my breasts spilling over the tops of the cups of my bra and the skirt corded around my waist. Basically naked, with nowhere to hide trapped beneath him.
Luka gripped himself with the hand he wasn’t using for support, and slowly lowered onto me. The warm skin of his chest was our first connection, followed by his lips on mine, and then . . .
Holy hell!
Warning lights flashed in my head at how close I was to actual sex. His hard erection felt like it was wrapped in velvet when it pressed against my slit, only a fraction of an inch too high to gain entry. He groaned into my mouth and his lips were forceful and demanding. He kissed me as if I’d pissed him off and yet it turned him on.
Skin on skin, he’d said. I had no idea how amazing and torturous it was until he moved. His body slid over mine and I gasped as every point of contact between us came alive. The brush of his skin on my nipples was nice, but the ridge of his dick massaging my clit was something else entirely. A dark need roared to life and whispered terrible ideas, trying to bargain to get what it wanted.
Luka sawed his body back and forth on top of mine while he continued to control my mouth with his. His lips were incessant. They alternated between hard and soft, rough quickly followed by gentle and tender. It was impossible to match his ever-changing technique, especially when I was foggy with alcohol and lust.
The length of his glide seemed to increase with every pass, increasing the tension inside me, until I was certain I’d orgasm with the next rock of his hips. Yet it just kept feeling better. The coil of sexual release only wound tighter.
Holy hell, I could hear how wet I was, and my face heated with embarrassment. Was it normal to be this turned on? His dick was drenched in my arousal, and I was panting between his punishing kisses. He slid backward and readied to charge forward once more—
No.
His angle was too low, and the head of his hard dick was right at my entrance, pressing against my tight body.
I went rigid and once again panic filled my voice. “Luka.”
He held perfectly still. He didn’t advance, but he didn’t retreat either. His dark eyes stared down with so much intensity, it stole my breath. What was he thinking about, and why hadn’t he backed off? His expression slowly shifted into the seductive one from before.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can still be a good girl.” The tip of his cock dug into me, forcing its way toward entry. “It doesn’t count if I’m barely inside you.”
I inhaled sharply with discomfort and surprise, my mouth falling open. He was big and hard, and my body naturally resisted, but he continued to press forward. It didn’t matter that I was trying to scoot backward—there was nowhere to go. My head hit the armrest of the couch, and his hand clamped down on my breast so tightly I couldn’t retreat further.
“Wait a minute,” I said, swallowing back the rising fear.
But he didn’t.
Luka inched his way along, until I could feel the tip of his cock pushing past my entrance. It hurt. The stretch was a sharp pain followed immediately by a deep, uncomfortable ache. My eyes were as wide as they’d ever been in my life. Holy God. There was someone else inside me.
He ceased his movement, but then he was kissing me again. I turned my head to the side, away from him, and struggled to get my breathing under control. Things were spinning so badly now I couldn’t focus on what I wanted to say. What I needed to say.
“Stop,” I choked out.
“I did.” His voice was hypnotic when it was that close to my ear. His tongue traced a line down my neck and I shivered in response. “I’m hardly inside you, and fuck, you’re so tight.” He seized one of my hands with his and forced it down between our bodies. His fingers curled mine around his thick shaft that wasn’t inside me. “See?” He nipped gently on the spot where my neck met my shoulder. “You’re still okay, Addison.”
He guided my hand to stroke him and groaned in pleasure. Was what he said true? Was I still a virgin even though an inch of him was lodged inside my body? There was a lot of him that wasn’t buried between my legs.
His order was urgent and commanding. “Harder.”
I clenched my fist tighter around him. He was thick. I stroked from the base all the way until he disappeared inside me, and then back down again. He was firm and warm. Did I like this feeling or should I be upset that he’d taken over and done this without permission? The only thing I knew for certain was I shouldn’t have had the last shot of tequila. My inhibitions were too far gone. The dark voice in my head wanted to tell him to go further. Deeper. My head swung back to face him.
His expression was determination, but I didn’t get much of a look. He slammed his mouth over mine, claiming me in a quick, but forceful kiss.
“Always doing what I tell you,” he murmured against my lips. “So fucking perfect.”
I whimpered as his hips moved and Luka slipped a little deeper inside. I squirmed like I could melt into the couch and evade the uncomfortable intrusion.
His lips parted and he blew out a loud sigh. Shear concentration was etched on his face, like he was in an enormous battle and losing the fight. “You feel way too goddamn good.”
My thoughts splintered into two. It was empowering to hear he liked it, but logic screamed at me to stop this immediately. It had already gone too far. In my fantasies, yes, I had sex with him, but that was fantasy. It didn’t carry consequences or cause regret.
I closed my eyes and tried to center myself, but it was impossible. Luka’s teeth dragged over my breasts, followed by his hands, and I was on a merry-go-round spinning ninety miles an hour.
“Fuck,” he muttered. He pulled back just a fraction of an inch, then pushed forward. His shallow thrust hurt, and the ache flooded my lower body with heat. His breath filled my ear. “You can take a little more.”
“Luka,” I whispered, making it sound like a 'no.'
"Addison." His sounded like 'yes,' and that single word tipped the scales. It was clear now that we were going to go as far as Luka wanted, and I had no say in the matter. I slapped my hands on his bare chest and pushed up with all my might.
“You’re not wearing anything.” Like a condom.
“I’m clean, and you’re a virgin. We’re both okay.”
Was he stupid? “No, Luka. Get off of me.”
It flipped a switch in him. I saw the Luka I thought I knew disappear, and something else took over in his place. This version of him was all hard and cold, and utterly terrifying.
“Reach up and grab ahold of the armrest.” His voice was detached and chilling.
“Wait—”
It died on my tongue as Luka glared at me. “Be a good girl and do what I say.”
His threatening look made me reach up with shaky hands and clutch at the leather armrest. He grabbed my wrists, binding them together in one strong hold. The tight clamp on my wrists was too much to overcome or break free from.
“Please,” I whispered, trembling so badly I was sure to vibrate off the couch.
“Shh.” His lips brushed over mine. “Just relax.”
It was an order I couldn’t obey no matter how much I wanted to. I stayed perfectly still as he held me down and pulsed inside me, his dick sliding in and out in tiny strokes. My body was no longer protesting as badly as before, but it wasn’t enjoyable. My heart beat so fast I became lightheaded and dizzy. And my heart stopped altogether when Luka’s free hand slid over my mouth and covered it, silencing me.
“I’ll go slow,” he said. Warm lips trailed over my cheekbone.
I sucked in rapid gasps through my nose. Oh my God. I tried to speak, but my cries were muffled against his rough palm.
No, no, no! Not like this.
I wriggled and tried to get him to release me, but he was unfazed. His singular focus was on my eyes, watching every rapid blink I made as I fought back, but my struggle was nothing to him.
Please, not like this! I silently pleaded with him. Couldn’t he see how I was panicking? Didn’t he care?
No, he didn’t. His eyes were dark as black lava and his expression was complete dominance. I felt owned. Smothered under his power. He drew in a deep breath, preparing for something big. Then his hips sank further into me and I moaned in pain. There was a sharp stab of fire, which gave way to a burning, ripping feeling.
That was when Luka Markovic ruthlessly stole from me what was supposed to be mine to give.