Adrian’s lips brush against the curve of my jaw and trail down to the hollow of my throat, nibbling, sucking.
My muscles lose their rigidity from earlier and I relax into his grasp, my fingers releasing the doorknob. Adrian holds my jaw with two fingers, lifting it so he can kiss my neck, then my collarbone, before moving back to my jaw.
The blood doesn’t deter him. It’s as if it doesn’t exist.
He whirls me around and I stare up at him as my behind meets the solid surface of the door.
He stares back as he removes his jacket and follows with my coat. I’m silent, as one item of clothing follows the other, pooling around me.
Adrian threads the fingers of one hand through my hair as the other finds my zipper, undoing it in one swift move. The material slides down my arms before it joins the rest of the clothes scattered on the floor. I’m standing in nothing but a strapless bra and black lace panties.
I’m half-naked, and yet I don’t feel vulnerable, because the way Adrian watches me is heated, burning, unlike all the robotic looks he’s given me over the past couple of days.
“I’m so proud of what you did to help Yan, Lenochka,” he murmurs against my face as he hooks his fingers around the edge of my panties.
“You’re proud of me?” I grab the sides of his shirt for balance.
“I’ve always been proud of you.” He pauses. “Let’s change that to mostly.”
I want to ask if ‘mostly’ includes me or Lia, but I choose not to ruin the moment. I don’t care what he sees me as right now, because I’m the one here.
It’s not Lia.
Me.
Adrian unbuckles his belt and I stare with bated breath as he lets his pants and boxers fall to his feet. He’s always a sight to behold, something that I can’t take my eyes off of, even when my instincts tell me he’s dangerous.
Despite that danger, or more like because of it, I’ve been caught in his orbit with no way of escaping.
He lifts one of my legs and loops it around his waist. I keep it there, unable to look away from his cock. It’s hard, thick, and so ready that my insides flutter with a carnal type of desire.
Adrian enters me slowly, and even with my slick core, his cock forces its way into my body, filling me without being all the way in. As he takes his time, I realize it’s not only desire that’s gripping me, tearing through my flesh and finding refuge in my bones. It’s something deeper, darker, and more sinister. At this moment, I want to watch the way he’s owning me, inch by each agonizing inch. I want to watch how our bodies are joined.
A throaty moan fills the air and I realize it’s mine.
Adrian pauses and a pleased groan spills from his lips. “Fuck, Lenochka… Do you know how many times I’ve thought about hearing your sexy throaty voice?”
I want to bite my lip, to end this, to not allow him to hear my voice when he’s still calling me by another woman’s name, but the look in his eyes stops me. The gray is intense, but not harsh. It’s like being trapped in a bright dream and knowing that I’ll wake up soon, so I should enjoy every second of it.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps, rolling his hips until his cock is all the way inside me. “You’re fucking home.”
I gasp at both his words and the way he’s filling me to the point of stretching me in the most delicious way possible.
Home.
He called me home.
My arms circle his neck as I climb up his body so that both of my legs are looped around his waist. I don’t care about the blood or how this is possibly my worst appearance yet.
The only thing that keeps ringing in my head is the word ‘home.’ I’ve never actually had one, not really, and the fact that Adrian is calling me his is triggering a dormant part of me I didn’t think existed.
The part who also wants a home and wants him to show me how much I’m his home.
Adrian drives slowly into me, the new position giving him a depth that allows him to hit me in a sensitive spot with each unhurried thrust.
“You’re so tight, Lenochka. Come on, open up to me.”
I realize then that he’s only taking it slow so he won’t hurt me. Despite his ruthless nature and his merciless punishments, Adrian sometimes treats me as if I’m a crystal glass that will break if he presses hard enough.
That might be true since he is, in fact, huge. He’s so big that I feel a burn every time he pounds inside, even though I’m soaking wet. But it’s the exquisite type. The type that moths wouldn’t mind being burned alive in as long as they get to taste it.
I dig my heels into his ass, urging him silently. Adrian’s lips capture mine as his rhythm increases. His kiss matches the ferocity of his thrusts. First, they’re deep and unhurried. Then, they’re fast and merciless, robbing me of any sense of reason.
It’s impossible to keep up, even if I try. My back hits the door, sliding over it and bumping against it to match the sharp power of his hips, of his kiss, of his whole body.
I’m a marionette in his hands, but he’s not taking my logic away. He’s engraving himself under my skin. He’s stealing my common sense and my breath. He’s opening doors inside me I didn’t realize existed.
Since he started kissing me, I haven’t longed for air. He’s my oxygen now. The reason I’m fighting tooth and nail to hold on to life.
The orgasm hits me so hard, I don’t see it coming until it blasts in my face. I roll my head back, my lips momentarily leaving his. “Aaaah… Adrian! Adrian!”
“Fuck, fuck.”
Hearing him curse only strengthens my orgasm. He’s not the type to curse usually, but he seems to have lost some of his iron control ever since he got me in his arms.
He powers into me with animalistic force, fucking me against the door with deep, furious strokes. “Repeat that. Repeat my name.”
“Adrian,” I whisper, then moan. “Adrian!”
For a moment in time, I feel like I’m suspended in mid-air. My head and heart are lightheaded. My scar doesn’t tingle, my chest doesn’t ache.
I’m free.
In Adrian’s arms, I’m free of everything and everyone. I’m just me.
Those thoughts expand the wave of my orgasm as it swallows me whole. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before and it scares me, but I ride it, anyway. My fingers dig into Adrian’s shoulders as a long whimper mixed with a moan spills from my lips.
Adrian comes then. I feel his cum warming my insides as his shoulders tighten beneath my fingers.
“Fuck,” he breathes out against the hollow of my neck.
But he doesn’t even pause as he steps out of his pants and boxers and carries me to the bathroom while he’s still inside me. He removes my gloves and my bra, throwing them behind him. My hands are bloodied, but Adrian doesn’t look at them with disgust, more like with pride.
I’m proud of you, he said.
You’re my home, he also said.
Am I still over the moon because of the orgasm or is this something entirely different?
He puts me on my feet, and I’m a bit unsteady, so he keeps a hand on my arm as he eases out of me. I shiver at the loss of him, then my eyes droop when his cum trickles down my legs.
Jesus. Is that supposed to be a turn-on?
Adrian watches the evidence of his thorough fucking as he shrugs off his shirt, revealing his hard muscles and the ethereal ink decorating his arms.