I flushed again. I felt self-conscious. I noticed that my fingers still were a little greasy from the pizza, and I began popping them into my mouth, licking them clean.
He sucked in an audible breath.
I looked up at him. I felt stupid. I should go and wash my hands, but I was now transfixed by his stare, stuck in place. So, I just watched as he took several slow, deliberate steps across the room until he was standing over me.
I scrambled to my feet.
He seized my hand.
“What are you doing?” I said, and my voice shook.
Slowly, he guided my hand up to his mouth. He put his lips around one of my fingers, licking it clean the way I had just done.
A jolt of pleasure ignited me, lighting up my limbs, my torso, my core. I gasped.
He kissed the tip of my finger. Then the inside of my palm. Then my wrist.
My whole body felt weak. My pulse was thrumming inside my skin, and I could feel it pounding everywhere. My clothes felt tight again. “What are you doing?” I managed. This frightened me. It felt good, but it was out of my control, and I wasn’t supposed to allow things like this to happen. And with Demetrius? I didn’t even like him.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, and he pushed my sleeve higher. He kissed me in the crease of my elbow.
I had never known that spot was so sensitive. I got shivers everywhere. My nipples stood up straight. I tried to tell him to stop. I opened my mouth to do it, but the only noise that came out was a tiny sigh.
“Tell me to stop, Kiera,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Because I’m not good for you. And you shouldn’t give in to me.”
I reached out and touched his chest again. The place where I had touched him this morning. The heat of his skin radiated out through his shirt. I flattened my palm against him and dragged it over the firmness of his pecks and stomach. My hand looked so small against his body.
He kissed my neck.
I shuddered, closing my eyes. I felt small and vulnerable, and he seemed so much bigger and stronger than me, and it felt… right. Boldly, I pressed closer, putting my other hand on his body, sliding them both around to feel his back. His massive, solid, muscular back. Just touching him made the center of me twitch. I turned my face to him and parted my lips and offered myself to him.
And he claimed me, crushing his lips against mine, pulling me close.
The pleasure inside me surged.
* * *
Demetrius
I knew that I shouldn’t be doing this, but now that it was happening, I didn’t seem to have the strength to stop it. She felt so good in my arms. Her body was tiny and soft and lovely, and I felt out of control with wanting her.
I propelled us both backwards, hurling her down on the couch.
She landed with a huff, her eyes wide.
I covered her with my body before she could say anything, could stop this. I had been waiting for this for so long now, and I didn’t think I could let it go. I needed her. She was mine now. And nothing could stop me.
I tugged my shirt over my head.
She let out an appreciative noise, running her fingers all over me again.
I loved that, the feel of her small fingers on me, caressing me. I kissed her again, nudging my tongue into her mouth. I tried to do it gently, but I was full of some kind of crazy force of nature now, and I was eager—too eager to be soft.
When I pulled back, I yanked her shirt up, baring her bra. It was nude and no-nonsense, but I didn’t care about it anyway. I shoved it out of the way as well.
She gasped as I bared her breasts.
They were perfect. Round, full, tipped with perfectly shaped nipples. Already hard and begging for me to suck them. I tweaked them both with my fingers before lowering my mouth to them.
She let out a little mewling noise.
I cringed. I had probably hurt her, probably done it too hard, but I couldn’t stop now. I wanted to taste her, and so I did. I suckled first one of her nipples and then the other. And then I went back to the first.
Her back arched underneath me, and she writhed.
Was she enjoying it, or was I too forceful?
I pulled back to look at her.
Her eyes were closed. She was beautiful like that, her lips plumped and red from my kisses, her nipples swollen from my mouth as well. I liked seeing what I had done to her. Her body was gorgeous. Her skin was so light, nearly translucent. I touched a blue vein that I could see above her right nipple.
She opened her eyes.
We looked at each other.
I could see she wanted to say something, was searching for words.
I didn’t want her to talk. I was afraid she’d ask me to stop, and I didn’t want to stop. I wanted her. All of her.
And so I unbuttoned her jeans. I needed to get her naked before she could end this. I needed to have her. I tried to yank them off, but I couldn’t manage it. My fingers seemed hopelessly large, and her clothing was so tiny.
She reached down to help me, wriggling out of them, presenting herself to me.
Oh.
Now, I could see her sweet little mound. I touched it with one finger, gently brushing it.
She moaned.
I moved my finger lower, parting the lips of her slit.
She shuddered, letting out another noise.
I let myself slide against her there, against her sweet sex. She was wet. I found her clitoris and probed it softly with one finger.
She cried out.
I knew that I should take my time here. I should touch her soft and slow and slowly bring her to climax. I should put her pleasure first, ahead of mine.
But I didn’t do that. Instead, I shed my own pants, so that I was naked too.
And I took her hand and guided it to my cock.
Her small fingers explored me.
I bit my lip. That felt good. And there was something so amazing about having her touch me, after all this time that I’d imagined—
“It’s big,” she whispered.
I turned to her sharply. Oh, hell, no she had not just—
She looked unsure of herself. “I mean, isn’t it? Are they all this…?” She gave me a terrified look. “I don’t think it will… I don’t think I can…”
I should have soothed her, but it was too much. It was the fantasy come to life, and I came undone. I was on her then, kissing her fiercely as I rolled a condom over myself.
She pulled back. “Demetrius,” she gasped. “Earlier, when I said—”
“Shh,” I whispered. “Spread your legs for me, little one. Take my cock.”
“I… I want to. I just think I should tell you—”
“Shh,” I said again, placing myself against her opening. “I’ll go slow.” I was lying. I was pushing inside her even as I said it, and she was tight and wet and sweet and—
She cringed.
I thrust.
She whimpered.
I stopped. “Am I hurting you?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “The thing is, when I said I wasn’t a virgin…”
And I looked down at the place where we were connected, and I saw a smear of red.
Blood.
I pulled out of her. Fuck.
A tear slid out of one of her eyes. “I lied.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kiera
I had never been so embarrassed in my life. I snatched my shirt and bra down, covering myself. I yanked on my pants and ran for the bathroom.
Fuck.
I was bleeding? That happened in real life, not just in trashy historical romance novels?
I cleaned myself up, and then I stared at myself in the mirror.
What the hell had just happened?
I had not meant for that to happen, not really. I had just… Oh, I don’t know. At first, it had all felt so good. I didn’t want it to stop. I had let him touch me, because every time he did, it was even better than the last touch. I was eager to help him get at my body.
I tho
ught about his mouth of my breasts.
I bit my lip.
Oh, that had been amazing. I had never realized that it could feel so intense.
And the way he had touched me between my legs…
I…
But then, it had all suddenly been bad. Scary. And painful. And I’d felt tense and tight, when before I’d felt loose and ready and open. And then he was forcing himself into me anyway, and I didn’t…
I made a face at my reflection.
So, was that it? If there had been hymen breakage, did that mean I wasn’t a virgin anymore?
I guessed I wasn’t.
It was only that I felt so… unfinished.
I stayed in the bathroom for a long time.
When I came back out, the lights were off. Danger was on the air mattress, lying on his side, facing away from me.
Oh, good. I didn’t know what to say to him, anyway.
I climbed onto the couch.
“Kiera?” came his voice in the darkness.
Damn it. “What?” I said, and I was annoyed with myself, because my voice was so tiny.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” I said.
“No, I should have never have—”
“Let’s just forget about it,” I said fiercely. Another reason for him to think that I was a stupid kid. I couldn’t even handle having sex with him. But seriously, he had to be deformed or something, because his penis was the size of the Empire State Building. Normal people did not have dicks that big. Did they?
I wasn’t even sure that he had gotten the whole way into me.
He probably wouldn’t have fit.
I fumbled around in the darkness for the blankets. I should go and put on my pajamas, but I wasn’t going to. If he saw me in those stupid alien-printed things, he’d be convinced that I was a little girl. And I wanted to be… Well, I didn’t know what I wanted. I almost wanted to go over to the air mattress, climb in next to him and tell him to try it again. To tell him that I hadn’t been ready for it, and that maybe if he just went a little slower, gave me a chance to get used to feeling him there, maybe we could—
I pulled the blankets up over my head.
“I don’t know what came over me,” he said. “I promise that I will never—”
“Stop it, seriously,” I said.
“I stayed here to protect you,” he said. “And I did the opposite.”
“I don’t need protection from your penis,” I said. “It was stupid, and we were just both… insane. Temporarily insane. You don’t even like me, and I don’t like you either, so—”
“I never wanted to hurt you. I can’t believe that I—”
“Would you please, please, please stop talking?” There was a note of hysteria in my voice.
He shut up.
Then it was quiet, and I thought I might lose my mind. I thought of several things to say. Discarded them. Clutched the blankets tight and stared at the ceiling. The lights from the city outside made patterns there.
Time passed, and I heard his breath across the room. Steady and even.
Was he asleep?
I thought of saying something, seeing if he would answer.
But I didn’t.
I wanted to go to sleep, but I knew that was impossible. I would lie awake all night, thinking of his body, thinking of the way he’d touched me, kissed me, stroked me into a fervor like he was stoking a fire.
I turned over on my side, against the back of the couch. I wondered if he had the better deal, sleeping on the air mattress.
Oh my God, I’d never expected it would be like that. I had seen things, and I had touched myself, but the immediacy of his fingers, his mouth… It had shattered all of my expectations.
And I had ruined it.
I wished that I hadn’t.
Okay, so it hurt a little bit. It was supposed to do that, right? And then it would have gotten better, and then maybe I wouldn’t feel as if I was adrift here, stuck on the edge of a waterfall, ready to dive in, but caught and unable to move.
I thought again of going to him, trying to get him to touch me again.
But that wasn’t an option anymore. I knew it.
He had thought that I was young and inexperienced before. Now, he thought that I was even stupider, even more innocent.
Screw him.
I didn’t need him.
But an ache in my body begged to differ with me. Something inside me did want him. Very, very badly.
I rolled onto my back again.
I let my hand snake down my body—under my pants, between my legs—to touch myself. To ease the ache.
* * *
Demetrius
I could hear her across the room, hear the way that her breathing had picked up speed. There was a little hitch when she sucked in air.
What the fuck was she doing, and why wouldn’t she stop?
It was making me crazy.
I was still turned on as fuck, even though I knew that I shouldn’t be, and her little noises were not helping.
I couldn’t believe that I’d done what I’d done. I didn’t have any excuse for it. I had given in to the worst part of myself, that was all that I could think. Having conversations with her about sensuality and food and sex? I had played with fire.
She had gotten burned.
I didn’t know how I was going to face her in the morning. I had never felt so awful in my entire life. She was too sweet and too innocent to have—
Fuck.
That was her first time.
That travesty was her first time.
She could never get that back. I could never take back what I’d done to her.
And when she got around to losing her virginity for real, with some other guy, she would have this freakshow hanging over her, all because of what I’d done.
On second thought, I didn’t particularly like the idea of her being with some other guy.
But that was the way it would be, because I was never going to touch her again.
It was funny, the way that sexual fantasies are nothing like real life. Funny how something that turned me on in my mind had only made me horrified in real life. There was an edge to it in my head that was sexy and dangerous, and I liked pushing the line back little by little.
But knowing I had hurt her broke something in me a little.
It was the worst thing that I could ever have done.
I knew there was darkness inside me. I couldn’t be the kind of man that I was, do the things that I did, and not have it lurking. But I liked to tell myself that I kept it at bay, and that I was nothing like the men that I killed. That I was nothing like the men in my family. That was why I had left them behind. I had seen firsthand how casual they were about violence toward women.
How many times had I seen my own father slap my mother?
He never really hurt her, that was what she said. She said that he just lost his temper sometimes. But he doesn’t use his fists, Demmy. And don’t you ever use your fists on a girl either. Patting me on the head while she said it. As if he didn’t denigrate her every time he did it.
But my mother was the mistress of spinning things, hiding things, pretending not to know things. That was the way of a mafia wife. She did it with aplomb.
I could still hear her shrill voice, cutting me off as I tried to tell her why I would never speak to my father again. Don’t you lie about that. Don’t you lie about that girl. Why do you want to make up lies about that slut?
Why would I lie, Ma? Why would I make that up?
I rolled over on the air mattress, which was already starting to deflate a little. If I had to sleep on it tomorrow night, I was going to pump it up before I went to bed.
Goddamn it, how could I have fucked up like this? I had sworn to myself that I would never allow myself to hurt another girl, and here I was, Kiera sleeping next to me, and all I could see was her face, contorted in pain, whispering to me that she was a virgin after all, and—
And even if I h
ad known that she was, would it have made a difference?
Yes. I wanted to believe yes. I wanted to think that it would have changed everything, because I wouldn’t have done it at all. I didn’t have the desire to be any girl’s first time.
I didn’t want that responsibility.
Or maybe I just didn’t want it to be Mia all over again.
Don’t you lie about that slut.
Not a slut, Ma. She was never with anyone except me. I was never with anyone except her. And if I hadn’t loved her, none of that shit ever would have happened.
Fuck me.
Now I was tearing up.
I rubbed at my eyes. I wouldn’t think about her anymore. It didn’t help anything to think about her.
It was going to be another long night. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep.
But screw it if I was going to think about this crap anymore. I wasn’t. I would think about anything else. I would do my times tables over and over. I would count backwards from five hundred.
I couldn’t deal with thinking about this anymore.
Kiera was right.
I was an asshole.
* * *
Kiera
I woke up to the smell of coffee.
Demetrius was already awake.
I threw aside my blankets and ran to the bathroom. After using the toilet, I surveyed myself in the mirror. Not having a shower was starting to get a little old. I took off my clothes and used the sink to wash myself as best I could. I ran a wet comb through my hair and brushed my teeth.
When I came out, I felt almost human.
Demetrius wasn’t in the kitchenette, but there was coffee in the pot, still hot on the warmer. I filled a cup, put in cream and sugar. Stirred.
Then, gulping in air, I went to look at my computers.
Demetrius was already in there, standing at the window as usual.
Good. I didn’t want to have to look into his face.
I sat down at the computers and began checking things.
I’d gotten a reply about the translation. Silently, I read through her transcription. It was nothing. Just a conversation about what Nikolai and Popov were planning on doing over the weekend. Gross, because it involved the girls they had captured, but nothing about where they were keeping them.
Rough: A Hitman Romance Page 9