Fuck. She wanted to watch me jack off.

“Another time.” When I wasn’t going to have to fight the need to come.

When I rubbed the head of my cock against her pussy, the heat of it almost burning, a tremble coasted through her, and her fingers gripped the sheets.

“Nervous?” I asked coarsely.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She was tense as fuck when I eased inside of her—so tense she almost resisted me completely. I caressed her ass and started saying shit I had no control of, unaware of what language I spoke. It could have been fucking Mandarin.

“I know you can take me, kotyonok . . . You’re so goddamn wet . . . This is the nicest cunt I’ve ever seen.”

She finally relaxed. I watched for her reaction while sliding in farther, until I was as deep as I could go. Fuck me. My eyes closed for a second. She gripped me like a tight, wet fist. Every cell in me ached for more, but I gave her a moment to adjust, running my hands over the curves of her ass and squeezing.

After a moment, she rocked back against me, and I gave her more, pulling out all the way before slowly pushing back in. She groaned and dropped to her elbows, bracing her hands on the headboard. I knew this pussy was made to fuck, but . . . Jesus. I slapped her ass in frustration, and when she clenched around me, it took every ounce of restraint to maintain the slow pace.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes settling on each lazy thrust. I rasped, “You like to watch?” and before she could answer, I fucked her a little harder.

Her head fell forward, and the sight of her biting down on my pillow to quiet her moan sent a heady rush to my head, lighting a violent fire inside me. I hissed at the tight pull of her cunt, pressure tightening at the base of my spine. I was lost for a moment, taking her hard and watching her ass jiggle with every thrust.

When she reached back and grabbed my wrist, her nails digging in, I realized it was a reflex of pain and slowed. She was probably still sore from last night, and I was fucking her too hard. I didn’t like the heavy feeling that knowledge sent to my chest. Though what I didn’t like the most was the fact she wasn’t going to tell me I was hurting her.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pulled her back against my chest. She was panting; fucked into a soft, compliant haze. Her head fell to rest against my shoulder. I felt her heart pounding, her fingers gripping my wrist, and her breath against my neck. They weren’t things I usually noticed, and somehow, all of it created a knot behind my ribs.

I skimmed my lips against her ear, my voice rough. “If it’s too much, tell me. Or I’ll stop right now.”

I’d rather take a bullet than stop right now.

“I told you I can take it,” she breathed.

“I don’t give a fuck what you can take. I’m not into dishing out pain.”

“You’re not into slow and sweet either. I don’t know what you want from me.” Insecurity touched her voice. “I want you to like it.”

Fuck. She wanted to please me right now. Why did she have to be so selfless? As much as it annoyed me, it also hit me in the solar plexus. I couldn’t seem to do the right thing with her. She felt too good, too soft, too fucking yellow. It was greedy as hell, but I wanted anything she would give me.

I nipped her earlobe. “Trust me, kotyonok, I’d like it if I were fucking you in slow motion.” I tugged at her tank top. “Now, take this off.”

She pulled it over her head, the motion consuming me with her soft, summery scent. She smelled so damn good I bit down on her neck and sucked, leaving another mark behind. With a sigh, she turned her head to give me more access. I squeezed one of her tits in my hand and told her, “I think I’ll fuck these next.”

With a moan, her head lolled on my shoulder when I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. As I played with her tits and sucked at her neck, she grew restless, rocking her hips for friction before rising, pulling me out almost completely, and then taking me back in as deep as possible.

I groaned and let her fuck me for a moment until she was whimpering and trembling for more.

I nuzzled her neck. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” she panted. “Please.”

The sound of Mila begging gave me a fucking rush that rivaled any drug on the market. At least, I imagined so. I’d never touched a single narcotic in my life.

I nipped her shoulder and said, “Such good manners,” before sliding my hand between her legs. She bounced on me, taking me in with lazy strokes, while I rubbed her clit. Her sounds were pushing me to the edge. So much soft skin and hair. It was all fucking over me.

“I’m gonna . . .”

I pushed her to her hands and knees and fucked her through her orgasm, holding her hips up when her legs gave out. She shuddered and clenched around me so tightly, the heat sliding down my back threatened to erupt. Breath ragged, I stilled and ran my hand up her spine.

“I want to come inside you.” I had no idea that came out of my mouth until it was too late to stop.

She sighed, giving me her lazy, nonverbal consent.

“Don’t let me come inside you,” I growled. I shouldn’t even be fucking her without a condom—regardless if I was clean, and so was she considering her inexperience.

“I have an IUD.”

I processed her words for a second before asking darkly, “Why?” She hated doctors. The only reason she would have an IUD was . . . fucking infuriating. “Were you going to let someone else have this?” I squeezed her ass cheek.

“No . . . I don’t know.”

Not the right answer. In fact, it was so much the wrong answer, I slapped her ass hard enough to welt. She yelped and arched her back, her eyes opening to shoot me a glare over her shoulder. Her annoyance faded when I pulled out and thrust back in at an angle that hit her G-spot. A low moan rose up her throat. I realized I’d never heard her say my name before. And I suddenly needed to.

“You want more, kotyonok?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me who’s fucking you,” I demanded harshly.

“Does it matter?” She tried to rock back against me, but I held her still by her hips.

“Yes, it fucking matters.”

“Why? In the end, I’ll only remember your headboard. It really is a sexy design.”

Gritting my teeth, I threw her to her back so roughly she bounced. I pushed inside of her in one hard thrust, braced my hands beside her head, and watched her eyes roll back. Her fingers gripped my wrists.

“Is this what you want?” I growled.

She was flushed from her orgasm, her breathing rough, but she still managed to say, “I want candles.”

It was so fucking ridiculous, my anger faded. Her soft hands slid down my sides and grabbed ahold of my hips to urge me on. I hated this position. Staring into a woman’s eyes during sex felt so intimate it was nauseating, but Mila wasn’t meeting my gaze; she was looking at where my cock was deep inside her. I found it hot and somewhat . . . annoying she was focused on the sight instead of my face.

“Move,” she breathed.

“No. You want your missionary fuck? Tell me who fucked you first.”

“You.”

She trailed her fingers up my arms, across my shoulders, and into my hair, sending a shudder down my spine.