Page 59 of The Lies Between Lovers

“I want you to fuck me,” Vera said, voice soft but sure.

His hand jerked a wave behind her. “Like this?”

“However you want.”

At this point, she didn’t give a damn how.

A glint reflected in the mirror from his heavy stare. “Let me guess—you like to be someone’s little slut. Used and abused and getting off every single time.”

“For the right man.”

At the moment, that just happened to be him. Not every man could evoke that same reaction, though.

As if he could read her mind, Vaslav chuckled and yanked off his towel, muttering, “Lucky fucking me, kisska.”

Vera lost all real sense when she could feel his length and fist pressing between the cheeks of her ass. Every stroke of his fist to his shaft dragged his knuckles along her body, and his exhales came out more ragged than the last. She kept watching him just like he’d told her to do, anticipating that first push of his cock and how well it would stretch her open like this. He never checked her in the mirror, instead he was too focused on the sight beneath him, and the way he worked himself against her.

And then he stopped long enough to slide the rubber down.

He didn’t promise easy, so she reveled in the ache that settled deep when he shifted a bit behind her, and the head of his cock slipped in with little resistance. Just as fast, he was balls deep, one hand fisting the ruined shirt and sweater against her hip, and his other coming around to her chest to get access to the breasts he’d wanted free.

That first thrust came with his guttural, “Fuck.”

The second, even harder, took her back up to her toes. His hands were still there with a tight, unrelenting grip to keep her in place on the edge of the sink.

“Don’t go too far,” he said, every word breathless.

The third flex of his hips came with a swift snap of their skin meeting, but he held her there. Tight against him, entirely full, and she swore she could feel the way his cock pulsed inside her under the thin rubber. She couldn’t clutch the sink’s rim tight enough; it took every ounce of self-control she had not to push back into him to relieve the pressure and throbbing of her pussy.

“Hungry—you’re so greedy. That cunt of yours is trying to milk me dry already.”

Vera couldn’t look away at the sight of him in the mirror, how his trembling fist ran up and down her side, and his other pinching at her nipples. Every touch earned him another one of her sounds. A hiss came with the pain. Soft whines fell from her trembling lips one at a time when his cock inched out of and then slammed right back in all at once.

“Jesus Christ, please—”

“Hold on now. Really.”

She appreciated the warning. Even if it was the only one he planned to give her. Any semblance of her awareness was gone when he started to fuck her, then. Each long stroke almost hurt, but it was too good for her to tell him to stop. Not that she wanted him to, anyway. His hands left marks behind on her alabaster skin, the canvas marred by red lines he dragged down her chest and new pink bruises from hand prints he cracked across her ass.

The sting took her higher.

Faster than ever.

His pace came with unyielding force—snap and snap of his hips against her ass that made Vera’s thigh muscles protest from being shoved so hard against the edge of the counter and sink. She barely even noticed. His uncompromising determination to fuck her until she was raw only turned her on more.

The only proof of his struggle to maintain some control was the light sheen of sweat on his tattooed chest and the bliss twisting the desperation in his sneer. He didn’t look away from the view he must have had of his cock sinking into her pussy—how wet was she now?

Still dripping?

Getting there.

She could feel it in the way her inner walls started to contract with every thrust, and she told him as much, managing to utter, “There. Right there, you’re going to make me cum again.”

As rushed as her words were, as good as he felt, Vaslav’s tempo slowed. Just enough that he must have been able to feel the way her body started to approach the precipice of release because that’s when his head snapped up, and his gaze locked onto hers in the mirror.

“Be my good girl, then, and give it to me, kisska.”

She did when his palm found her ass cheek, and he kneaded the flesh. It was almost like he stretched her open a little more doing that, as if he made her pussy tighter, and she knew then that he would leave her sore.