What I’m seeing is different from the angelic face she commemorates on Instagram or the characters she fuses herself with when she’s on stage.

This is her, uncensored.

The real Lia Morelli, who ran from her past yet allows it to continue to haunt her.

I touch her shoulder to wake her up and her hands shoot up and grab my wrist.

Her eyes open, bleak at first, like a gloomy sky, but then she focuses on me, and although her hold slackens, she doesn’t let me go.

“You,” she murmurs with that slight slur.

“Me.”

“Are you going to fuck me now?”

I raise a brow. “Is that an offer?”

“Do you need one?” Her eyes are half-droopy and I have no doubt that she’ll probably remember nothing of this conversation come morning.

“No, Lenochka. I don’t.”

“Then why don’t you take what you planned all along, Adrian Volkov?”

The sound of my name coming from her soft lips makes me want to stuff them with my dick and see what type of other sounds she’ll make.

“Don’t tempt me.” There’s nothing I want more than to rip off her dress and the clothes underneath and sink inside her. If I get her out of my system, my vision will be a lot clearer.

She sits up, releasing my wrist, and reaches to the back of her dress and lowers the zipper. Her process is messy at best as she shimmies out of it and throws it on the floor.

Lia kicks away her flimsy skirt that she wore during rehearsal, leaving her in a tight thing that barely covers her pussy and the crack of her ass.

Her nipples peak against the pink material and I’m tempted to pull on them to see if they get harder. Better yet, suck them into my mouth and feel them tighten against my tongue.

She lies back on the bed, her hair cascading on the pillow and her bare fair legs slightly parted. When she speaks, her voice is husky with arousal, “I’m tempting you then.”

“Is that so?”

“You’re going to take me, anyway. So do it and leave me alone.”

“Why do you want me to leave you alone, Lia?” Unable to resist, I grab her nipple over the cloth, brushing the tip of my thumb over the bud. It does tighten, poking against the fabric, demanding more.

“Because…ahhh…” She arches off the bed, pushing into my hand.

Her moan of pleasure is the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard and a straight stimulation to my dick that’s currently straining against my pants.

“Because what?” I probe, twisting both of her nipples in opposite directions.

“Because you…ahh…you…” She reaches a hand down between us and snaps open the thin piece of fabric covering her pussy. I watch with a growing hard-on as she rubs her clit in circles. Her rhythm matches mine on her nipples, falling in synergy with me.

She’s barely looking at me with the way her lids are half-drooping, but she naturally follows my lead without me having to order her to.

“You…make me d-do things I don’t…usually do…ohhhh…” Her body convulses on the bed, eyes rolling back and her lip trapped between her teeth.

Seeing her orgasm is a piece of art, even better than her performance on stage. Her whole body comes alive and she completely lets go.

And fuck if that’s not a turn-on.

It takes her a few moments to come down from her high, but she continues her slow rubbing, eyes darkening with lust so tangible, I can taste it in the air.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

I raise a brow. “Didn’t you just orgasm?”

“Mmmm,” she moans softly as I pinch her nipples one last time before I release her.

Her gaze sobers up. “What… Why?”

“Because I’m not a rapist, Lenochka.” I brush a stray strand of hair from her eyes. “Sleep. I’ll deal with you in the morning.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not rape if I want to.”

“You want to? I thought you only wanted to get rid of me.”

“That, too. If you fuck me, it’ll be over.”

“Who says it will?”

Her brow furrows, but I don’t elaborate on my words.

She said that I make her do things she doesn’t usually do.

That makes two of us.

7

Lia

Strong hands wrap around me, carrying me, holding me.

I’m about to fall into a feeling, something I’ve never experienced before. Something that I had in my little girl fantasies.

But then, my wrists are held above my head in a steel-like hold. My eyes snap open and I find a shadowy figure hovering over me, pinning me to the mattress.

It’s dark, but I can make out the contours of his face.

Those hard features and that calm façade. Those intense eyes and the set of his jaw.

My dark stranger. The killer. The tormentor.

Adrian.

My body goes completely slack underneath him as he kicks my legs apart with his knee. His free hand tears my underwear and then he slams inside me with a feral force. I cry out, my back arching off the bed.

He rams into me as if he’s intent on hurting me, as if he’s punishing me with every ruthless thrust. His groin slaps against my flesh with the savage power of his hips, filling the air with ominous intention and crashing against my chest.

“You like that, don’t you, Lia?” His voice is like velvet but with a hidden undertone. “You like being taken hard like a dirty little slut.”

I shake my head, opening my mouth to speak, but he flattens a palm over it, muffling my words.

“Yes, you do. You were touching yourself to me just now. Look at how your cunt is strangling my dick.”

I shake my head again, tears stinging my eyes. I refuse to think I’m that type of person. I refuse to think of myself as someone who gets off on such perverse acts.

But with every word out of his sinful mouth, my core tingles and my head turns dizzy. Being immobilized like this adds a scary type of anticipation. Any sounds I make come out muffled, haunting.

But he doesn’t release me.

If anything, his hold turns rigid and his rhythm takes on a feral momentum. He fucks me like he’s owned me since the moment we met. Like he’s taking what was his all along.

My walls clench and an electric shock starts in my core and shoots all the way to my spine before submerging my entire body.