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“Just shut up and fuck me,” I gasp, pushing away that hint of affection. I don’t need caring. I need sex. Raw, animalistic, hungry sex that leaves me feeling sated and desired.
Erik obliges. His hand returns to my shoulders and he withdraws his cock, sending a spiral of aching want through my core. I clench down and adjust my stance, then he thrusts back in and my heart leaps into my throat.
Bliss washes over me. My blood turns to lava and heat flushes over my skin. I writhe against the table, desperate to escape thesensation, but since I can’t, it only amplifies the hungry noise rumbling in the back of my mind. The wooden table is too rough, the stink of blood is suffocating, and Erik’s hand on my back burns like a brand.
It’s perfect.
He pins me down and fucks me rapidly with short, hard thrusts. It’s impressive how much power he fucks with when his thrusts are so shallow. I drink it up like a parched woman, hungry for more and more. His hand moves from my shoulders to my hair and he grips a fistful to hold onto. His other hand moves from my hip to the table beside me, so I grasp onto his arm and dig my nails into the soft flesh of his wrist. Erik grunts, and each of his pants is laced with notes of subtle moans of pleasure.
I’m less subtle. My mouth hangs open. I gasp and moan loudly, rocking my hips back in time to his thrusts and clenching down around his pounding cock as often as I’m able. Sweat coats my body in a sheet, and the sensitivity of my body rises as each thrust drags me closer and closer to orgasm. I’m desperate. Hungry. Nothing has ever tasted this good before.
Nothing else matters except Erik’s cock.
Then he drapes himself over me. The heat from his bare chest burns against the skin of my back. His weight is comforting, which is oddly painful to the loneliness in my soul. He presses his lips to my bare shoulder and kisses along the line of my bra strap, then he uses the grip on my hair to turn my head and force our lips together.
We kiss hungrily, a clash of teeth and tongues battling for dominance, and my heart soars so high that I’m downright dizzy.He fucks me harder, pounding me into the table so the edge of the wood cuts into and numbs my hips.
It’s everything I crave and yet more at the same time.
I can’t speak.
I can’t think.
I’m driven purely by desire, and just as I’m certain my heart will burst right out of my chest, I come with a long cry. Pleasure cascades through me, rippling through every flexing muscle and sending me right over into a powerful orgasm. For a long moment, I’m simply suspended. Erik’s hips stutter, and he comes inside me with a breathy moan, repeatedly kissing my neck. My legs tremble like they’re about to shake apart and weakness pulls through my muscles.
It’s amazing.
He is amazing.
“Fuck.”
It takes us ten minutes to pull ourselves apart, dress, and head outside without speaking a word to each other. It’s hard to think about what to even say, and my head swims between satisfied desire and confusion over what I learned from my attacker.
The late evening sun beats down with an uncomfortable warmth as we approach the array of cars waiting for us. Erik’s security team, who followed us from the building site, all rest against their respective vehicles. As Erik instructs them to clean up the mess inside, I dig my phone out of my bloodied jeans and quickly message Faina about the name Sunray. She replies instantly with confirmation that she will also look into it.
Erik opens the door to my car, and our eyes meet. There’s a softness that shouldn’t be there, and I can’t tell if it’s new or if I’m just noticing it.
“Anastasia, should we—” he begins, but I quickly hold up a hand.
“No,” I say, quickly rebuilding the walls destroyed by adrenaline and lust. “That was a moment of weakness and will not happen again. Understand?”
Erik’s expression doesn’t change. “Understood.”
I’m not clear whether I’m telling him or myself, but as I slide into the car and my core pulls with the memory of his cock, my mind is set.
That cannot happen again.
Ever.
9
ERIK
Ican’t get her out of my head.
It’s going to be the end of me.
Every time I close my eyes, I’m struck with the vision of her standing over that body, drenched in blood and smiling at me like she’s happy to see me. The taste of her lips lingers against my own days later as I try once again to scrub the memory of her off my body.