I loosen the tie that holds her wrists to the headboard, so I can put her on her knees, her arms outstretched long above her head like she’s in some kind of yoga bondage pose. I smack her ass because she looks so gorgeous.
“Ravil, Ravil….”
“Lucy. Beautiful Lucy.” I slap her again and slide in once more. The shudder of pleasure is no less in this position. “I love fucking you, kitten. I could do it all night long.”
“No,” she protests, already desperate to get off. “Ravil, please. I need…”
“You need my cock?” I slam in firmly, pressing my loins against the soft curves of her ass.
“Yes!” She sounds impatient.
I grip her hips and take several short thrusts, bumping her ass each time.
She whines. The silky strands of her long blonde hair fan out across her bare back and onto the bed. She looks like a fallen angel.
Debauched by me.
“You need it hard, Lucy?”
She pants. “Um…”
I give her a demonstration, slamming in hard half a dozen times. The moment I stop, she cries, “Yes! Don’t stop! Oh God, please, Ravil.”
I want to torture her more. To make it last longer for my own pleasure. But the combination of her surrender and pleading along with the sensation of being inside her and claiming her fully pushes me to the edge.
“Blyat,” I curse in Russian, my movements becoming rough and wild. I fuck her harder, losing focus on her pleasure, careening into my own. “Lucy.”
“Yes! Oh God…”
I grow dizzy. The room tilts and spins. My balls tighten, thighs quake. I drill into her like I have something to prove. Like this is the moment she will learn to accept me as the rightful father of her child, make room in her life for us to be a family.
Even if that’s not really what I want.
Or is it?
Fuck.
Fuck.
Yes!
I slam hard into Lucy and stay deep, tumbling over the edge into orgasm.
She comes around my cock, her inner walls squeezing my dick, massaging out every last drop of my seed.
I don’t know how long I stand there on my knees, buried deep in Lucy with the room spinning. After a moment, I become aware of her whimpers. I catch her around her waist and tug us both to our sides, staying inside her. I reach around and rub her clit, and she comes some more, wringing another mini orgasm out of me.
I groan, my arm tightening around her. I rock my hips, pumping slowly in and out as I float in the ecstasy produced by the release. The sense of well-being. Of gratitude. Some might mistake this moment for love.
I’m not so foolish.
I rub her clit again, and she squeezes around my cock again.
Still, this must be the closest I’ve ever come to feeling love. The connection and affection I feel with her is real.
I nuzzle her neck and kiss a patch of skin I find under her soft hair.
What will you do with me? She wanted to know.
Keep you.
I wouldn’t. I won’t. She doesn’t deserve it. But if I were selfish. If I were truly the bastard she believes me to be… I’d keep her forever.
Tied up on my bed.
Filled with my cock.
Moaning my name in that hoarse, desperate way of hers.
Lucy. My brilliant, well-defended attorney-lover. The woman who doesn’t trust me to father her child.
The woman I want to turn inside out. Master.
Love.
Yes, love.
I do want to love in this lifetime. Too bad I’m even more defended than she is.
Lucy
AFTER A SNACK AND A BRIEF NAP, I wake to find Ravil standing at the window. He turns when I sit up.
“How do you feel, beautiful?”
I stretch, feeling the relaxation in my limbs. A slight soreness between my legs. The lingering sensation from having something plugged in my ass.
Amazing. I feel incredible.
Not that I’m going to tell him that.
I climb out of bed.
“Are you going to let me out of this room now?”
I shouldn’t sound so testy. Not after he just devoted himself to giving me the most incredible orgasm of my life.
“Yes,” he says mildly. “I’m going to take you to the rooftop pool.”
Pool is a magic word to any pregnant woman, I guarantee it. I perk right up. “Do I have a swim suit?”
“I packed one for you. But you could swim nude if you like, too. The pool is private.”
Skinny dipping isn’t my thing although after our afternoon session, I am feeling far more comfortable in my skin than normal. I find my bikini and put it on. The bottoms still fit, but my breasts spill out of the top.
Ravil’s gaze falls on them, hungry. He grabs and holds out a terry cloth robe that’s too large-probably his-and I slip into it. Then he changes into a pair of turquoise and navy swim trunks.
Like always, I stare at his chiseled, tattooed chest. The light dusting of golden hair across his chest. He tosses my flip flops out of the closet and comes out in a pair of his own, two beach towels tucked under one arm.
It’s a different look for him, and if it weren’t for the prison tattoos, he’d look like a California lifeguard. Blond, built and manly. Not wholesome. But it’s almost like I can see how, under different circumstances, he could’ve turned out wholesome. At his core, he’s not an evil man.
He can’t be-not with the care he takes with me.
Can he?
I ignore his hand when he holds it out but let him lead me out of the penthouse and up a short flight of stairs to the roof.
There, I nearly gasp at the scenery. There are large potted trees. Flower boxes. Colorful umbrellas. Fake grass gives it more color. We round past the roof fixtures, the concrete walls cleverly concealed with bamboo fencing, and emerge at the pool.
Where a pair of teenagers are fooling around.