Lying and Kissing(39)

Helpless.

My back arched and I screamed in ecstasy as the pleasure exploded. I felt myself spasm around him, my whole body shuddering. I heard him grunt, a low, animal noise, and then the hot pulse of him inside me.

My wrists pushed and pushed against his restraining hand and my fingers just managed to find his and knit together with them. We stayed there for a moment as we both rode out our peaks, and then he relaxed atop me. I noticed he was careful to support himself on his arms, preventing his hard body from crushing me. A gentleman, I thought dreamily. However much he used me.

Used me. Now that it was over, reality started to come back. With it, the first stirrings of outrage and fear. God, he’d picked me up and thrown me on the bed. Pinned me down while he’d…

...given me the best orgasms of my life. I flushed. When I looked up at Luka with confused, guilty eyes, I saw that flicker again, just for a second. A hint that maybe he’d lost control, too, or come close to it.

He got off me and walked to the other side of the room. The sudden lack of his body was like a physical loss, the cool air of the apartment making me quiver as it wafted over my shining nipples and the wet folds of my sex. God, I’d been...ridden. My legs lolled wantonly apart, too tired to close. My breasts were throbbing where he’d ravished me with his mouth and fingers. Inside, I felt a deep and very pleasant ache where he’d stretched me.

What had I done?

What had I let him do to me?

I knew, instinctively, that this was the way sex was, for him. This was the way it had been with his other girlfriends. But with me...what was it I’d glimpsed, that had made it different?

He was leaning on a countertop before a mirror. I saw him looking at himself and wished I could see his reflection from where I was. I wanted to know what was in his eyes. Guilt? Anger—at me, at himself?

He finally turned around and walked back to the bed, still completely naked. “Are you okay?” he asked.

He sounded...wait, was that...was he scared? Scared that he might have hurt me?

“Yeah,” I said. “Yes. I’m fine.” I gingerly closed my legs and sat up, hugging my knees. I ached a little, but there was no pain.

He nodded quickly, as if relieved. And, now that the fear was gone, he looked almost confused. I was getting to know that feeling pretty well myself, when I was around him. That what the hell am I doing feeling, the disconcerting sensation of being not quite in control. I couldn’t understand the hold he had on me. My confusion made sense.#p#分页标题#e#

But why would he be feeling that way?

“Will you stay the night?” he asked suddenly. And then he sort of coughed and said, “You’ll have to stay the night. I sent your clothes to be washed.”

At three in the morning? But maybe anything was possible, if you were rich enough. The real question was, what had come over him? He was suddenly behaving like a nervous teenager, all his hard man exterior gone.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

He nodded gruffly as if that was what he wanted to hear. He pulled back the comforter to reveal soft cotton sheets and I slid between them. A second later, I felt him spoon me, the hard press of his muscles against my back comforting. He wrapped an arm around me and I felt a warm swell of emotion. It was the first time I hadn’t slept alone in a year.

But this isn’t real. You know how he treats his girlfriends. It’s just sex.

And even if that wasn’t true, it can’t be real. This is just a mission.

He’s using me. I’m using him.

I knew that. I kept repeating it to myself.

And yet the warm press of him against my back felt so very, very good.





I woke up alone in the bed. It felt wrong, as if I’d already gotten used to the feel of him against me. And that was ridiculous, after just one night.

I could feel that the covers were warm behind me, though, so Luka couldn’t have been up long. Without moving, I opened my eyes. The blinds behind me must have been open because the room was bright with sunlight. I was about to sit up to look for Luka when I saw something. On the dresser, right in front of my eyes, was a steaming black coffee mug. And reflected in its shining surface I could see—

I snapped my eyes closed again and then studied the image in my mind. In the reflection, I’d seen myself, lying on my side in the bed. And behind me, sitting in an armchair across the room, was Luka. He was sipping an identical mug of coffee and he looked fantastic in black jeans and a white shirt that he hadn’t bothered to fasten up yet. That glorious strong chest thrust out between the shirt’s open sides and my eyes tracked down, over the hard ridges of his abs and along the deep centerline, then back up over his pecs.