Page 165 of Ruthless Rustanovs

“Are you done with your drink, Sola?”

Sola quickly moved her shoulder away so she was no longer touching the wall o’ Ivan.

But she could still feel him behind her.

So solid and unforgiving, that if not for the smell of vodka and soap wafting off him, she might have thought an actual wall had suddenly sprouted up behind her rather than a man.

“Y-yes,” she answered. “I’m just leaving now.”

Two large arms extended from the wall behind her, and hands appeared on either side of her body, resting on the top of the cabinet. He still wasn’t touching her, but he’d effectively boxed her in with nowhere to go. And she was too scared to turn around.

“Tell me, Sola, do you like chocolate?”

“What?” she asked. Squeaked, really.

“I believe you heard my question the first time.”

“Yeah, sure I like chocolate,” she admitted. “But why are you asking?”

“I like chocolate, too,” he said, his hot breath fanning her neck.

“Ever since I was a small child, I have considered chocolate a treat. So I asked Hannah to buy some bars for me every few weeks and leave them in one of the kitchen cabinets. But lately, I have noticed something. You see, my chocolate has been steadily disappearing ever since you arrived. When I went to have some tonight, I discovered the last bar was gone. Someone ate all my chocolate. Someone who is not me. Was that someone you, Sola?”

She gulped, remembering the chocolate she’d pretty much binge-eaten along with a hastily prepared turkey sandwich.

“I guess,” she answered.

“You guess.” He let a beat pass. A beat during which she could almost feel his body pulsing behind hers.

Even though he still hadn’t touched her.

“You like this word ‘guess,’ I am finding, so I will guess a few things now. You say the last time you slept walked, you binged on ice cream because you were on a diet. I am guessing now—based on my vanished chocolate and your ice cream binges—that you like sweet things. And when you sleep walk, you do not do silly things like clean the house or go for drive in the car, like some stories I have heard. No, Sola…”

His nose, just the tip, touched the back of her neck, but it might as well have been his entire hand for the chain reaction it set off in her body.

A maelstrom of erotic sensation suddenly erupted within her.

Swelling her breast, and making every nerve cell beneath her skin tingle with anticipation.

“…I am guessing when you sleep walk, you do the things you want to do. The things you deny yourself when you are awake.”

Ugh, she’d never thought of it that way before, but scanning through her past episodes, she could now see he was right.

There’d been so many diet-destroying nights that she’d finally stopped dieting altogether.

And then there were those times when she’d finally sat down to watch TV after a busy week at school only to discover that someone—very likely her sleep walking self—had caught up on all her favorite shows and then erased them from the DVR. Crazy but true.

And though she didn’t share any of this out loud, Ivan seemed to read her thoughts, scraping his lips against the back of her neck as he said, “I am big below, I know. Too big for you not to feel the effects of having me inside you next morning…” His Russian accent had become thicker, darker.

“When you wake up with sore pussy, what did you think made it this way?”

His voice was so seductively insistent, it felt to Sola like he was dragging the truth out of her.

“I thought I’d touched myself too hard,” she confessed breathlessly, fighting the urge to do it again now. To press her fingers into the throbbing place between her legs.

A dark chuckle erupted hot on her neck, as if no other answer could have pleased him more. And then there was no question about his body touching hers. He leaned over her, covering her from behind and settling a very large erection against the small of her back.

Yet his voice remained casual as he asked, “Does this happen to you often, Sola? You wake up with sore pussy, because you have been masturbating in your sleep? Finally letting your body have what it really wants?”

She bit her lip, unable to answer. Her pussy. Her poor pussy. As sore as it had been this morning, it was throbbing with raw need now. A bittersweet ache building up inside her with every rock of his fully clothed body against hers.

“Sometimes,” she panted.

“So you like to do this? You like to touch yourself?”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. It was too dangerous, she knew.

But her silence only ratcheted up the tension between them.

“I am going to touch you now, Sola,” he announced into the back of her neck.

“Now that you’ve had something to drink, I am going to fuck you with my fingers.

And so there will be no more misunderstanding between us, I will make the rules for tonight very simple.

I will do what I want to your body, and if you don’t want me to do this thing, you will tell me to stop. Do you understand?”

Her lips clamped together, not knowing what to say. Not knowing how to respond. Unable to think beyond the large muscled body crowding her and covering her back.

And then it was too late to talk. His hand was at the front of her. Invading the band of her joggers and slipping between her legs.

A few exploratory dips and then… “I see you are already very, very wet, Sola. I guess I will keep going.”

He was right. She could feel herself slick with need, and becoming slicker by the second as he worked her with his hand.

“No…” she moaned, unable to believe what her body was doing, how it was responding to him.

“Word I look for is ‘stop,’” came his response against her neck. Meanwhile, his large hand kept working her sex, stoking that fiery ache.

One of his hands was inside her, and she could sense the other behind her. He’d pulled his hard shaft off her back and was now clasping it, rubbing it, as if preparing for something more.

No, no, they couldn’t…

Sola opened her mouth to tell him to stop. Really she did. But when she tried to speak, his hand pressed down on her button, and all that came out was a long moan.

She didn’t remember anything. Not one thing that had passed between them during her episodes.

But her body seemed to remember everything.

And she seemed incapable of making any protest, until he suddenly pulled away.

That was when she found herself mewing in distress, because he’d left her sex empty and her back cold.

“Patience, Sola. I am putting on condom,” he informed her from another part of the room. He wasn’t laughing, but she could clearly hear wicked amusement in his voice. “Then I’ll give you another chance to tell me to stop.”

He was a man of his word. Seconds later, he was back behind her. Yanking down her joggers and panties with his hands, and then pushing into her with his…

Sola’s whole body went tight, and she found herself gagging with shock. The size of him, the feel of having something that much larger—so much larger than Scott—inside her most intimate space. She whimpered, not knowing what to do, how to feel…

Then his mouth was at her ear: “Tell me to stop, Sola,” he said as he began slowly rocking into her. “Tell me to stop.”

With each command, his Russian accent became thicker and thicker. “Tell me to stop,” he said into her neck, as if he were just as ashamed of his actions as she was of hers. “Do not let me believe again. Tell me I am wrong. Tell me to stop.”

But she couldn’t. In fact, when she was finally able to form words, they were the very opposite of the ones he’d requested.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned. “Please keep going.”

This was so wrong. So wrong. And she knew better. But he was right. She’d been denying her waking self for nearly two weeks now, and this felt like nothing less than chocolate. Like finally giving into what she really wanted, after years of cold pizza sex with Scott.

Plus, she was too close to stop. She could feel something big and all-consuming coming straight at her, like a sex-fueled freight train. And instead of telling him to stop, she reached back, clawing at his thighs as she begged him, “Don’t stop. Oh God, don’t stop!”

She could feel his muscles working underneath her desperate hand as he drove into her. His thighs were so large, her hand didn’t even cover half of it.

But she was only able to enjoy touching him for a short while. As soon as that last “don’t stop” fell from her lips, he snatched her hand away and planted it under his much larger one on the cabinet.

The bottles rattled in front of her as he drove into her, hard and relentless. Not stopping. Refusing to stop, until…

She flew apart. Molecules split inside her, and at least six different arias ripped apart her mind at all once.

She’d never come like this. With Scott. With her hand. With a vibrator. Never in her life would she have imagined something this amazing could happen in her own body.

For eons on end, there was nothing except pleasure, wave after wave of hot light washing over her.

And then she heard him behind her. Grunting hard, his large hand moving to the top of her shoulder, bracing her as his strokes switched from grinding to pounding.

Pounding faster and faster until he suddenly sank into the back of her pussy with a yell.

She felt his cock jerk hard, right before he emptied into the condom.

He sagged against her then in a rather funny way. Leaning into her, but not giving her all his weight. It took Sola a few moments to realize he was hugging her from behind, cradling her with a tenderness she wouldn’t have guessed he possessed.

Which was why it gave her such a jolt when he finally spoke.

Thick Russian accent gone, words clear and solemn as he informed her with no guessing whatsoever, “I’m going to take you up to my room, and I’m going to fuck you again, Sola.

I’m going to keep you there all night and I’m not going to let you out of my bed until I’ve done everything you’ve only been dreaming about when you are awake.

Tell me to stop. This is your last chance. Tell me to stop.”

How? She wondered in a daze. How could her core be throbbing with need again, aching for him again? So soon after reaching the best orgasm of her life? And how could she tell this large man no?

Her lack of response seemed to be enough for him. The next thing she knew, he was swinging her into his arms, and carrying her out of the study, away from the bar, and into the dark promise of a night without any sleep.