Page 76 of Walking Red Flag

In the end, she chose for me by saying, “I’m not fragile. I like sex. I like hard sex. Sometimes, when I’m by myself, I get my eight-inch vibrator out of my…”

I didn’t need her to say anymore.

For the last few days, everything had been leading up to this moment.

Before I knew that she’d been hurt, I’d wanted to take her roughly.

Against a wall.

Bent over my motorcycle.

In the back seat of my truck.

Anywhere I could get her alone for just a few minutes.

That would be all I needed.

I’d get us both off with barely any effort.

My hand smoothed up her arm starting at her wrist. I moved until I was cupping her throat, using my thumb to tilt her head up to stare into my eyes before saying, “No means no. Always has, always will. You say no, I’ll stop immediately.”

Something inside of her seemed to settle because I saw the visible wilting of her body before she said, “You’ll treat me normal?”

I dropped both hands and cupped her under her ass.

“I don’t know about normal…”

I want to go to dinner, then be dinner. Nothing crazy.

—Milena to Nastya

MILENA

“I don’t know about normal,” he said just before he bent down and captured my mouth with his.

We’d known each other for a matter of moments in the grand scheme of things. I’d liked everything I’d known about him.

I liked that he was rough around the edges.

I liked that he was a killer—did that make me sick?

I liked that he was unapologetically masculine.

I liked that he could break someone in half with barely any effort.

I liked everything about him, and that included how sexually attracted to him I was.

My body had craved his for days, and now that I had him where I wanted him, I wasn’t going to hold back.

I wanted to be free, and I had a feeling he’d make me fly.

His big, rough hands smoothed down my arms, past my hands, and to my hips. When he had a firm grip, he lifted me up effortlessly, not grunting even a little, and twisted us so that I was now sitting on the counter that was mostly free of products, stray hairs, and hairbrushes.

The moment my ass met the cool, granite countertop, I squeaked.

He pulled back from the kiss, smiling as he did.

“Cold?” he teased.

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