Page 15 of Under Control

He thrusts himself deep between my legs, his thick cock stretching me wide and bottoming out, and all of my triggers are pulled.

I explode on him.

My vision tunnels. My mind goes blank.

He fucks me like a savage and I come for him in one explosive moment of pure white-hot bliss.

He’s not too far behind. I feel him stiffen and twitch as he fills me to the brim. I’m too stupid with pleasure to care that he just finished inside of me.

Without a condom.

And I’m not on birth control.

Oh, shit.

“Karine,” he coos, kissing me gently, holding my arms above my head. His lips nibble at my breasts. My nipples are sensitive, and my back arches as he does it. “Karine,malishka, beautiful girl. You feel so fucking good, and I like it when you struggle. I like it when you tell me no.”

I gently extract myself. My mind’s racing at what just happened. He watches me carefully, a lazy smile on his lips, looking like a massive, sleepy lion.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” I tell him, hurrying over to my clothes.

“Yes, you should have.”

“You’re going to get the wrong idea.”

“What idea is that?”

Panic starts to swell. I don’t regret the sex—I mean, how could I regret the best freaking sex of my life?—but he doesn’t understand.

“I’ve been with one other guy in my whole life,” I say, wiggling into my panties, as useless as they are. I feel Valentin dripping down my leg. God, I’m marked by him, aren’t I? “You’re the second.”

“What’s the first one’s name? I’ll find him and kill him myself.”

I pause, jeans halfway on. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“I’m not.” He stares at me, face unreadable.

I keep getting dressed. Jesus fuck, what a stupid mess. I’m already in the pharmacy in my head buying Plan B and trying to figure out how I’m going to afford it, given that I have approximately zero extra dollars at the moment.

“What I mean is I’m not going to marry you, okay? What we just did was—” I pause, bra on, shirt dangling from my fingers.

“Good,” he supplies and stretches. “Very good.”

“Yeah, okay, it was very good.” I finish getting dressed and face him. “But it was just—” I wave a hand vaguely in the air. “Just something that happened.”

“Do you let strange men fuck you in art studios often?” There’s an edge to his voice.

“No, asshole. I told you, you’re number two.”

“Still waiting on number one’s name. I don’t like the idea that another man has seen what’s mine.”

“You don’t get it. I’mnotyours, and I’m not saying this as part of some sex game.” Which was extremely, extremely fun and hot, but I don’t mention that. “We’re not getting married. I’m not in your world. I’m notyours. Okay? Got it?”

He grunts in reply. I skirt around him, heading for the door, halfway expecting him to spring up and grab me.

I treat him like a coiled snake.

“Great, okay, so we’re on the same page.” He’s watching me with that closed-off expression again. I can’t tell if he’s angry or just tired. “It was fun, but please, don’t come here ever again. The answer to the whole marriage thing is a resoundingno.” His eyes light up. I grimace. “And I actually mean it this time.”

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