Page 54 of Captured Solace

He gathered my hair in his fist and pressed my face into the pillow. Then he took me with hard, slow strokes as I gasped for breath, my hips shaking with each thrust. He flipped me over and I inhaled, drawing the cool air into my lungs before he pushed back in.

His eyes glittered and a bit of hair fell over his forehead, soaked in sweat.

“Open your mouth for me,” he ordered.

I obeyed and he spat into it.

“Don’t swallow. Hold that. Mouth open.”

He fucked me harder, his jaw tensing as he spat between my lips twice more. I wanted to cry out, to whimper and beg—anything to release the tension building in my hips. But I didn’t want to disobey him so I kept my mouth open, determined to do as he asked.

He put his hand on the back of my neck, tilting my head, and put his palm under my mouth.

“Spit it out for me, baby girl,” he said, his voice husky. Coaxing.

I spat his saliva back into his hand and he pushed it between us, coating my clit, swirling his touch over my most sensitive point. He fucked me, his fingers working my bundle of nerves until I came with a hoarse cry.

“Yes, fuck yes, come all over my cock,” he urged.

I dug my fingers into his side, probably flaying the skin from his ribs. He didn’t seem to notice as he sped up, slamming into me until I felt it in the deepest parts of my body. Then, in a lightning fast movement, he pulled his cock free and spilled his cum onto the inside of my thigh.

“Oh my God,” I breathed as he fell onto his back. I flipped over, not caring that my thighs were sticky. “That was amazing.”

He flashed the wolfish smile at me, his eyes glittering. “Think you have a taste for it a little rough?”

I nodded hesitantly. “Maybe.”

“That’s something I look forward to exploring with you,” he said, getting up and going into the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on and he leaned out of the doorway. “Time to clean up.”

We took a leisurely shower together that escalated into more sex against the wall. This time, Viktor took me slowly, his mouth consuming mine. When he pulled from me, I felt his regret and I almost asked him not to, but then I scolded myself silently. No matter how much I enjoyed having him come inside me, I didn’t want to get into the habit of it.

Viktor worked for a few hours in the afternoon while I went downstairs and had tea and pastries in the cafe. The windows were open and the balmy air smelled sweet. I curled up in a booth by the window and watched the lilac branches sway, already dotted with buds. In a few months, the flowers would bloom and fill the air with their sweet scent.

Where would Viktor and I be then? Still learning how to live with one another? Perhaps beginning to feel something besides lust for each other?

Warmth stirred in my chest as a dozen images flooded my mind. The way he walked with his hand on my lower back, shielding me from the world. How his expressive eyes moved over me as if every inch of me was worth studying. The warmth of his mouth as it pressed to mine, urging my lips apart so he could taste me.

Did I feel something for him? Or had he gotten me so high on hormones I couldn’t tell the difference?

He wore an expensive dark blue suit when he came down to find me still curled by the window at dinnertime. We went back upstairs and he waited by the door while I put on a slinky, black dress that barely brushed the middle of my thigh. I’d found it in my suitcase and it gave me a thrill as I put it on knowing that Viktor had chosen it for me.

The evening was a blur of wine and good food and the burn of Viktor’s lean hand gripping my bare thigh beneath the table. At some point, when we were both reckless from wine, he pulled me to my feet and out of the dining room. There was a bathroom off the hall and he ushered me inside and locked the door.

Our bodies met as he pushed me up against the wall. He slipped my panties down my legs, putting them in his pocket. His mouth pressed to my throat and his hands ran up my thighs, lifting me against the wall and pressing his cock into me. Until I was painfully and deliciously full, pressure in the deepest parts of me.

We fucked in a frenzy, the light fixture above our heads rattling. I moaned, digging my fingernails into him, pulling him close. Needing every bit of him against me, inside me. He flipped me, bending me over the sink, and fucked me hard from behind, his hand over my mouth to muffle the sounds. When he pulled out, I dropped to my knees and he came all over my tongue.

We made it back to the table just as the waiter brought out dessert. I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and primly reapplied my lipstick. Beneath the table, Viktor slipped his arm around my hips, pulling me close in a possessive gesture.

The next morning, we were both a little hungover and I was beginning to feel the effects of taking him all weekend. He noticed that I winced as I stepped into the shower and he stripped, joining me beneath the water, and parted my legs. I watched him inspect me, his brows drawn together and his mouth pressed into a thin line. Then he washed me with gentle fingers and carried me back to the bed, laying me down still wet and soothed me with his tongue.

After I came, he left me there, panting, and brought breakfast in on a tray. I hadn’t even noticed him calling room service earlier. That now familiar sensation of warmth in my chest, like light welling up inside me, returned. Feeling bold, I pulled him in and kissed him. It wasn’t like our kisses from the weekend, full of passion and frenzy. It was comforting, familiar, and slow. Like there was more between us than just desire.

For the first time, that thought didn’t make me uncomfortable.

We left before noon and returned to the house. It was almost March and the air was warm and smelled faintly of spring. I put on a sweater and wading boots and went out to the edge of the marsh for a walk. There was a congregation of early tadpoles in the shallows and I found a bottle and began gathering them. Later today I would ask Viktor to go into town and get me an aquarium to keep them in.

When I looked up, my husband was seated on the porch, watching me. He had his feet propped up and his laptop on his knees, his chin rested on his fingers. He was thoroughly relaxed, like a great cat, gazing at me with contentment on his handsome face.

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