“Smart to have that,” he says. “You should always have pepper spray. You never know when you’ll need it,” he adds, keeping hold of my wrist as he bends to pick up my fallen purse and keys. He drops the canister into my bag and walks me to the door.
“Roommate home?”
I shake my head, knowing Rachel is at work.
Using my key, he unlocks the door and walks me inside. He stands there a moment and looks around, and I see it how he must see it. Small and ugly and a little sad.
“Your room?”
“Uh…”
He tugs me to him, holding my wrist at a painful angle. “Your room,” he repeats.
“Last one.” I point down the hall.
He walks toward it, and I follow because I have no choice. He opens my bedroom door, and we step inside. He closes it, and once again, he stops, taking in the messy space. The unmade bed. The clothes strewn over the back of a chair and on the floor.
“You’re a mess,” he says.
“Lev?”
He walks me into the bathroom, eyes the other door of the shared space and locks it from the inside.
I sneeze, suddenly shivering.
“Get undressed,” he says. “You’re going to catch a cold.”
He still has hold of my wrist as he pushes the shower curtain back and runs the water, testing the temperature before shifting the flow to the shower.
When he turns back to me and sees I’m still dressed, he raises his eyebrows.
“My hand,” I say, my voice trembling.
He nods, releases it, and watches as I peel off my jacket, drop it to the ground, then my shirt, which is soaked through. I drop that too, but when it comes to undoing my jeans, my hands are too shaky to unbutton them.
“Christ,” he says, gripping the waistband of my jeans and tugging me to him, and I realize again how much bigger than me he is. Taller and so much stronger.
His eyes are almost black again, and I see the hunger and desire I saw last night. He holds my gaze as he undoes my jeans, and with his other hand, he grabs the back of my head and pulls me to him. His mouth, wet with rain, on mine, kisses me with a fierce hunger as he unzips my jeans.
I make a sound, wanting him again. I’m turned on by this violence, which I know is sick and wrong, but it’s how I’m wired. How I learned sex is.
And so, when he grips my hair and pulls my head back, I’m panting, and I want more.
He spins me around, putting my hands on the edge of the sink.
“Don’t move.” He gets behind me so I can see him in the mirror. He pushes the hair off my neck and kisses my thudding pulse, then bites just hard enough to hurt as he slides one hand inside my jeans and panties and cups my sex.
I moan with the contact, his fingers roughly kneading my clit, rougher than he was last night.
“Lev.” I turn my head to kiss him.
He tugs my wet jeans down over my hips and pushes me forward a little. I look at him looking down at me, then feel a hard smack.
I gasp, meeting his black eyes in the mirror.
“I should have spanked your ass for the night at the club, but I thought I gave you enough of a scare at the restaurant.”
He smacks me again three quick slaps to the same spot. The sting is sharp and does more to turn me on than punish me. He grins, raking his fingernails over my ass.
“You like this, Kat?” He spanks me again. “If I’d known…”
I hear the zipper of his jeans, and a moment later, I feel his length at my back.
“Watch. I want to see your eyes when I fuck you.”
I turn to the mirror as he spreads my ass open, and I moan at the length of him as he rubs himself through my folds.
“Fuck.” He sucks in a breath, and I’m panting. When I lean forward, he grips a handful of hair and tugs my head up. “I said I want to see your eyes when I fuck you.”
He pushes into me then. I’m still sore from last night, but he feels even bigger than last night, and I can’t get enough of him.
“I like fucking your tight little cunt, Katerina. I like coming inside your wet little cunt.”
He’s squeezing my ass cheek in one hand and pulling my hair with the other, and fuck, I want to come.
I slip my hand from the lip of the sink and slide it between my legs, and Lev grins a wicked grin.
“And that’s your punishment for this morning,” he says, smacking my ass one more time before taking my hand and pressing it back to the counter, trapping it as he fucks me hard. He grunts with each thrust, his cock so deep I swear I can feel it in my belly.
“I need…” I try to pull my hand free, but he laughs.
“You need to come, but you’re not going to.” His thrusts come faster, and I feel him thickening inside me. “You get to watch me come instead.”
Fuck.
My God. Fuck.
“Please!” I cry out, but his grip only tightens in my hair. He tilts my head to the side, and when he closes his mouth over my throat and stills inside me, I feel him throb, feel him empty. I watch his face, his beautiful, wicked face as he takes his fill of me, and I think I hate him and I love him at once. I want him. I want more of him. Him inside me like this.
When he’s finished, he blinks his eyes, then draws his head back.
He looks at the smear of red at my pulse and licks the spot he’s just been biting hard enough to break the skin. He lets go of my hair and holds both of my wrists behind my back as he pulls out of me.
I feel the gush of warmth as cum slides down my thighs, and I smell us. I smell sex and want, and I smell my own hunger. My need.
He leans in close to my ear. “Get in the shower and keep your hands off your pussy.”
When he lets go of my wrists and steps away, I have to grip the counter to stay upright.
He tucks himself back into his jeans and zips up.
I turn to him.
“You’re wasting water, Kat.” He gestures to the shower, wipes something from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, then folds his arms across his chest and leans against the wall.
I move to strip off my jeans, embarrassed as he watches me, embarrassed at the smear of wet on the insides of my thighs. I step into the shower and go to pull the curtain closed, but he shakes his head.
“Nuh-uh. I want to watch. Make sure you don’t get yourself off when you wash my cum off you.”
Fuck.
I wash myself, embarrassed again, but also turned on.
He checks his phone. I don’t know if it’s a message, or he’s just checking the time. He did seem like he was in an awful rush this morning. He tucks his phone into his back pocket.
“That’s good enough,” he says, reaching in to switch off the water. He looks around for a towel, grabs one, and unfolds it.
I step out and let him wrap me in it. Let him dry me.
He walks me into my bedroom. “Get dressed before you get cold.”
I open a dresser drawer, then pull on panties, a pair of yoga pants, and a sweater. I don’t bother with a bra.
Lev is standing across the room, looking at something. He turns to me, picks up my phone, and holds it up.
“Nina texted you.”
Shit. He must have read what I texted her, and I have no idea what she texted back. My phone is so old it doesn’t have a lock screen so he’d be able to just get into it by clicking on the message.
He walks toward me and looks me over.