Fall(Romanian Mob Chronicles Book 2)(9)

I arched against him, seeking more contact and feeling rather proud when he let out a sharp exhale of his own. He recovered quickly, hooked his thumb into my panties, and then pulled them down.

The loss of contact was mournful, but that feeling soon faded when he gripped me again, his palm flat at the apex of my thighs, his thumb again teasing me.

“You do think this is a good idea,” he said. “Your pussy does, anyway. You’re dripping.”

He moved his hand, rasping against my lips, spreading the creamy wetness that flowed from me. On a third stroke, he swiped two fingers between my lips, opening me.

“Sorin…”

“Esther…” he said, voice teasing the same way his fingers did.

“This is a…” I exhaled hard when he passed over my throbbing clit. “A bad idea,” I finished.

“You’ve never given it any thought?” he asked, those magic fingers working at my slit.

“No, I haven’t,” I said stubbornly, my admonition losing all force when I rolled my hips against his fingers, trying to drive him inside me.

He pulled me even closer to him, his grip tight, his body a cage behind me. “Of course you haven’t, Esther. So think about it now. We’ll fuck and then we can play nice, huh?”

I slammed my eyes closed, tried to shut out his breath against my neck, his chest against my back, his fingers lazily tracing my slick lips. Reason told me to send him away, and I wanted to listen. My body disagreed.

“Just once,” I said as firmly as I could.

“Just once,” he echoed.

And then his fingers were gone, and I bit back a groan of frustration and tried to turn. The hand he’d lifted to the small of my back held me in place, and I could only listen to the soft snick of his zipper coming down.

“Don’t move,” he said, voice harsh but softened by the thickness of the arousal I could hear in it.

Any other day, with any other man, I would have disobeyed, but I stayed still as I was waiting. Not patiently though.

“Hurry up,” I said when seconds passed after I heard the faint rip of foil.

“You anxious, Esther?” he replied as he pushed against me again, his big body trembling as he ran his cock against my lips.

“You didn’t come here to talk, Sorin,” I said.

“For once we agree,” he replied as he gripped my hip tightly.

Then he plunged, filling me in one solid stroke. It was almost too much, and I stifled a groan at the invasion, my walls stretching to accommodate him as he filled me as no one ever had.

I clenched experimentally, tightening around his thick shaft and was rewarded with a sharp exhale.

“Do that again,” he barked, and I complied almost before he had the words out.

His grip on me tightened even further, almost punishing, but I didn’t care, couldn’t, not with him behind me, inside me, all around me.

“Move, Sorin!” I exclaimed, and I almost cried out when he did, pulling back and then pushing in and then doing it again and again.

Eyes still closed, forehead against the wall, I dropped my hand to his thick arm, squeezed his wrist as he rocked inside me, his low grunts and my breathy sighs the only sounds in the room. And with each thrust, each flex of his powerful arm in my hand, he dismantled me.

I wasn’t like this, wasn’t one to give myself to a man, wasn’t one to be taken, but this…with him was different. I couldn’t do anything, didn’t want to do anything but feel him plowing inside me, stirring pleasure that ripped at me as strong and fierce as any anger he’d ever made me feel.

Stronger.

Strong enough that I soon felt that charge in my stomach, one that I often only found with my own hand. I slammed my eyes closed, my fingers digging into his arm as my pussy clamped tight around his shaft. My body pulled tight, then went slack, his arm around me, his cock inside me the only things keeping me upright.

I breathed out harshly, somehow choking back the scream that wanted to emerge and let the pleasure take me, the electricity shooting through my body. He stilled behind me, his cock pulsing inside me as he emptied himself into the latex.

We stayed there for a moment, just long enough for my heart to calm and my mind to accept what had happened, but not long enough for me to regret it, at least not yet.

When he slipped from me, I felt shockingly regretful and tried to turn to cover the feeling.

“Wait,” he said, again pressing that big hand at the small of my back.

Then he pulled my underwear and pants back up and even buttoned them. I waited until I heard his zipper close and then turned to face him, somewhat grateful his face was still in shadow.

“See you later,” he said. And then, before I responded, he left.