Page 59 of Nemesync
“I think you’re lying to yourself Volkov, I’m not just under your skin; I’m in it now.”
I won tonight.
Was the kiss good? Phenomenal.
Do I still hate him? Even more.
Would I do that again? In a fucking heartbeat.
I’ve always been like this; craving something I can’t have and then loving the pain that comes from it.
I wanted to know him entirely, to be the one bringing this man to his knees and be the only one to understand what he hides behind this reputation he has.
I couldn’t fucking sleep.
I couldn’t stop thinking about this kiss, the way his lips were so commanding, angry, demanding of me. The way his hands craved me. The type of sensation that sends little sparkles all over your body and makes your blood boil from desire.
I needed air, and so I just walked out of my room, to stay a bit on the balcony. But in a second, I felt it, the flames and the fucking tension again.
He was behind me; I felt his presence.
He did not speak at first, he just stood there, breathing heavily on my neck, while I stopped feeling the air in my lungs.
His large hand is on my throat and delicately slides on my shoulder, grazing the skin along the curvature of my breast, agonizingly slow.
My nipples hardened at the touch of his skin, and he felt it.
That control he had over my body. That bliss exploded throughout my entire body as if it was the first time it awakened and felt something other than pain and sorrow.
Only he can do that.
I can hear his gasps accelerate; I can almost see his proud smile on my skin.
No. I can’t succumb.
But I’m dying to let him touch me.
I’m dying to see how my body is gonna betray me.
His long fingers caress my abdomen, and eventually slide inside my shorts.Forbidden.
He’s touching the band of my thong; and I can’t breathe from fear of breaking this moment.
No noise other than my choppy breathing and the little noises coming out of my mouth. I lose myself in the dizzying and intoxicating effect of his presence—a closeness that feels just like the first heady rush of a drug.
Euphoria, drowning out everything else.
He approaches his mouth from my ear, kissing the back of my neck, savoring every little goosebump he felt under his lips, and says in a low whisper, “Do me a favor Zanae, allow me to show you the control I have over every part of you.” His voice tickles my neck, and he adds, “You can deny it all you want,Milaya, but your body is my own little dirty playground, and he knows it.”
Fuck, why am I so hypnotized by his touch?
His other hand on my jaw, gently brushes my cheek, and suddenly the hand that was on the lower part of my stomach descends even further and he starts stroking my clit with his long fingers, taking his time, appreciating every little gasp coming out of my mouth.
He’s studying my reactions, curiously examining the way my body felt under his touch. And the answer is that it felt weak, on the brink of surrender. And I hate it.
“My own woman, to pleasure, to ruin, to mark,” he adds, slowly kissing my neck, stealing the air out of my lungs with each brush of his lips on my skin, branding each centimeter as his own territory.
“A slut for me. For me only.”
