She shudders. She whimpers. And then she does it, she arches her back, she kicks out, screaming, crying too, coming so hard I swear she almost breaks me.
I growl, pushing myself deep inside her. I know I can’t claim her the way I truly want, at least not yet, so I pull out, only just making it in time before I’m coming all over her breasts, all over her stomach, marking her skin with my DNA.
For a few seconds, I just lay there, slumped, in complete and utter euphoria. And then I drag myself up, force myself to leave her side and grab a wet cloth to clean her up.
She’s still got her face buried in the pillow when I return.
I kneel down beside the bed, wiping away the remnants of me. Washing her clean.
“You did so good.” I praise.
She lets out another sob.
“Sofia?”
Still she doesn’t reply. I grab the pillow yanking it away. Her face is red, flushed though I’m not so sure now it’s from arousal.
Everything seems to change. All that lingering lust inside me dies.
“Sofia?” I growl.
“Please don’t.” She whispers.
“Don’t what?”
“I just, I need a minute.”
“Was that too much?” Fuck, she didn’t ask me to stop, and I was enjoying it too much to realise she wasn’t.
“I…” She shakes her head, curling up, whimpering.
A better man would give her some space, a better man would let her have a moment alone, but I’m not that. I’ve never pretended to be that. I grab her, yanking her around by her jaw to face me. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I shouldn’t…” She starts sobbing, ducking her eyes like she’s ashamed. “I shouldn’t like that. Not after what they…”
The penny drops. As I stare at her I realise what this is. Not buyers regret but self-loathing, judgement, all those nasty little voices in her head that have been tormenting her for so long.
“You think enjoying sex is shameful?” I ask.
“Enjoying pain is.” She replies. “Enjoying you forcing me, enjoying that bottle.”
I pick her up, cradle her in my arms, and hold her trembling body to mine. “You never have to be ashamed for what you like.”
“I shouldn’t like that. I shouldn’t enjoy feeling overpowered…”
“Sofia, if that’s what your kink is...”
“I’m fucked up.” She cries cutting across me. “They fucked me up. The things I want, the things I dream about. Why the hell would anyone like me ever desire that?”
“What do you dream about?” I ask. I thought all her dreams were flashbacks, nightmares, awful moments from her past but apparently that’s not it.
She shakes her head refusing to answer.
“Tell me, Sofia.”
“You’ll judge me if I do.” She whispers back.
“I’m judging you anyway.” I state before I can stop myself. “And from what I see, there is nothing to be ashamed of.”