Page 7 of Endless Love

“Come for me,milaya,” I croon, snapping my hips against her, every thrust pushing me dangerously close to the edge, too. “Let me feel you come.”

Her mouth opens on a cry, her hips driving up against me as Ifeelher clit pulse against my bare cock, her body bucking as she comes for the fourth time. I hold her pinned as she moans and gasps, and just as I feel her start to come down, I pull my hips back and thrust into her still-clenching pussy, hard.

She’s wetter than before, full of my cum now too, and I feel it around my cock, feel it dripping out around us, sticky on her thighs. Once, twice, a third hard thrust, and I can’t hold back. It’s too much, the most erotic thing I’ve ever done, the best sensation I’ve ever felt, multiplied with every moment that passes, every filthy way she’s let me have her, and my cock explodes for the second time, filling her up as I feel myself spill out of her, wet and hot as I come hard enough that I see stars.

I can hardly breathe as I roll off of her, exhausted and wrung dry. My cock is limp and spent against my thigh, and Charlotte is still next to me, one hand going to her chest as I let go of her wrists.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” she says after a long moment. She pushes herself up, her dark hair falling into her face, and she doesn’t look at me. “Shit,” she breathes a second later. “My shirt is ruined.”

“I have an extra one.” I push myself up on one elbow, resisting the urge to reach out and nudge her hair away from her face, so that I can see it. Some instinct tells me not to touch her right now, that I’ve already pushed her further than I should have. “In the top drawer.”

She nods, and a shiver runs through her. For a split second, I think she’s crying, and I feel a sharp jolt of alarm, but when shestarts to get up, and her hair falls back, I can see that her face is clear, if pale.

But she doesn’t look at me. Not when she collects her clothes, or takes a shirt out of the top drawer of the dresser where I stashed my things last night, or walks to the bathroom. And as she goes, I can feel the divide between us, the moment when she remembers what sheshouldfeel, and not what she does.

And I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life aching to relive the last hour, again and again.

4

CHARLOTTE

WHAT DID I DO?

Reality, cold and unwanted, comes rushing in, in the moments after Ivan rolls off of me for the second time. Everything feels like a blur as I grab my clothes and retreat to the safety of the bathroom, closing the door behind me and locking it as I twist on the taps of the shower and wait for it to run hot.

What was I thinking?

I can’t pretend that I didn’t want it. That from the moment he kissed me, savage and hungry, I didn’t want everything he was offering. That I didn’t want to be horribly, inescapablybadfor a little while.

I wanted him, and I let him have me.Twice. I can feel the evidence of it, sticky on my thighs, and my face blushes red as I drop the stack of clothes on the small, chipped sink counter. I let him fuck me without a condom, something I’ve never done with anyone before. Even though I’ve been on birth control since I first started having sex, I’ve always insisted on being extra careful. Something I was grateful for when I found out that Nate was cheating on me—I would have been a lot more worried at myfirst gyno appointment after that if I hadn’t always made him use condoms. But I was all clear, and I’m sure it had something to do with that.

I’d always thought it would mean something, if I let a man fuck me without using protection. If I let him actually come inside of me. I’d always thought it would be more than?—

More than what?I bite my lip, thinking of what he said just before he kissed me. That I should have known, after that first night, why it is that his father believes I can be used against Ivan. That hurting me would hurt him.

I told myself what happened between Ivan and me that first night was just sex. Just a hookup. But it felt wrong, even then. The way he touched me felt likemorethan anything I’ve ever felt with anyone before. And what just happened between us?—

I swallow hard, walking quickly into the small, cramped shower and yanking the shower curtain shut over the lip of it. The water is almost too hot, but I step under it anyway, wishing for it to wash away the feeling of intimacy. The feeling that Ivan and I shared something that won’t be easily forgotten when this nightmare is all over.

You fucked a criminal.I rake my hands through my hair as the water soaks it, unable to believe how quickly I let myself fall into his hands.After you already knew, you still fucked him.And I can’t pretend that I didn’t want it. I can’t pretend he forced me. I know what he is, at least to some extent, and I still fell into bed with him because I wanted to experience how good he makes me feel one more time before I figure out how I’m going to get out of all of this.

Twice more, apparently.

My face is burning red, and it has nothing to do with the hot water. I’m utterly ashamed of myself, but that’s not enough to stop the shivers of pleasure that run through me every time I think of what Ivan did to me. The way he touched me.

Letting him fuck me without a condom wasn’t the only thing he did that I’d never done with anyone else.

I grab one of the washcloths off of the rack at the end of the shower, and the bar of citrus-scented soap that’s on the small dish attached to the wall. I scrub the washcloth with it until it lathers, hard, as if I need to focus on that and nothing else, and then scrub myself clean. Over and over, until there’s no trace of Ivan on my skin anywhere that I can feel, and I can’t smell him on me any longer, that delicious combination of his cologne and warm skin.

I won’t let it happen again. That was the last time.I tell myself that, firmly, as I wash my hair and get out of the shower, toweling off and slipping my underwear and jeans back on. Ivan’s dark grey t-shirt is a size too big for me, and I gather it up at the hem, tying it in a knot just above the waist of my jeans. A sliver of pale skin peeks out between the shirt and my jeans, and I realize that far from looking like a disheveled mess that’s just been kidnapped, I look—sexy. In my jeans, Ivan’s knotted-up shirt, and my wet hair, I look wild. Unkempt. Like a woman on an adventure that could end anywhere.

A small, unwanted thrill of excitement churns through me. I let myself imagine, just for a second, that I’m going along with whatever happens next. That I’ll stay with Ivan, wherever it is that he thinks we need to go to get away from his family. That I’d leave everything behind to let myself justlivefor once in my life.

But that’s going too far, isn’t it? I look at myself in the mirror, pressing my lips together tightly, reaching up to brush my fingers against the spot where Ivan left a small red mark at the base of my throat. I wouldn’t have ever even given him my number, if I’d known the truth from the start. If he’d told me, that day that he sat down at the cafe, that hisconfidentialjob was confidential because it involved working for a criminal organization.

One that his father is apparently very influential in.

That’s why he was at the gala,I realize suddenly, some of the pieces are starting to click together, although there are still huge, gaping holes in what I actually know for certain. Sarah had mentioned to me that sometimes members of various criminal organizations in the city show up, trying to seem like more above-board members of the community. That must have been why he was there, why he had a date with him, the woman that he’d said he was there with because it was easier to tell his father ‘yes’ instead of ‘no.’

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