I threw my head back, crying as I climaxed. Mr. Volkov took control of my hips and moved me quicker on his throbbing cock. My core spasmed around nothing, and I so badly wanted him to fill me up with his girth. I wanted his cum inside me, and that thought scared me.
Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Mr. Volkov groaning, and seconds later, hot cum landed on both of us. It smeared against my stomach and his. I whimpered and curled my fingers tighter into his shoulders, stopping myself from reaching between us and dipping my finger into his seed so I could taste it.
Mr. Volkov panted, and I dropped my forehead against him as we stopped moving. We stayed silent for a few seconds as we caught our breath. Opening my eyes, I found him gazing at me with hunger.
I wanted to ask him what that was and why he’d done it, but I feared speaking would break the spell we were under. So I kept my mouth shut and gazed at him until I couldn’t anymore.
Would he fire me now that he’d gotten what he wanted?
Sensing where my thoughts were going, Mr. Volkov swept his hand over my cheek and behind my head to cup it. The touch demanded I look at him, and when I did, he held my gaze.
“What we did doesn’t change anything,” he murmured.
I didn’t know if that upset me or made me feel better. Maybe both, which only confused me even more.
“Okay,” I whispered, trying to sound convincing.
His grip tightened, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’m going to get off you now,” I said softly.
Silence.
Pulling away from him, I maneuvered off his lap and got to my feet. Mr. Volkov followed, and I pulled on a robe that hung on a hook in the room. I grabbed a towel and cleaned the cum from my stomach and pelvis. Mr. Volkov did the same before the masseuses entered the room and began the massages.
The whole time, we stayed silent. All I could think about was what happened and how good it felt to ride Mr. Volkov until we came. It finally sank in at the end of the appointment that he was attracted to me this whole time.To me, of all people.So why in the world was he a jerk to me?
Isat in my home office at 1:45 a.m., nursing the whiskey Emma had bought for me. She’d remembered my birthday, thanks to the note she made to herself. I’d noticed she did that often before the accident. My mate wrote notes to herself for just about anything, even for her periods.
Leaning back in my leather chair, I sipped the aged alcohol from my crystal glass. The seat creaked under my weight, and I glared at the cracked-open door. I’d left the lights off, not wanting to wake Emma, despite her being upstairs in the guest bedroom fast asleep. I could hear her deep breaths as she slept; her fan turned at its highest setting. She wouldn’t wake up for another three hours, so I had nothing to worry about.
I wanted Emma in my bed. I couldn’t sleep without having her beside me and giving me peace of mind that she was alive and well. There’d been nights over the last few months when I’d woken up and found her gone, hiding in a closet somewhere in the home during a schizophrenic episode. At some point in that time, she’d stopped hallucinating dead people in the bed next to her. But she still saw demons and monsters far scarier than me and my inner demon. I’d been there for her through it all. I was the rock she could lean on, knowing that I’d always be there for her.
I’d been offended a time or two in the beginning, thinking she didn’t trust me while in psychosis, but after a few times, I’d learned that it wasn’t about me. In that vulnerable moment, her mind was in survival mode, and she couldn’t trust anyone or anything, convinced that everyone was against her. I still couldn’t come close to an iota of knowing what she experienced while in an episode. Had it been me who hallucinated, I would have gone mad ages ago.
Now I couldn’t sleep because I fretted like some fucking mother hen over her chick, ensuring Emma was okay and not scared. Sometimes, I went into her bedroom, watching her sleep for a few minutes. It made me feel better to know she was breathing.
What happened earlier at the spa played over in my mind. I still felt her sopping wet pussy grinding and sliding up and down on the underside of my dick. My erection jerked as I remembered the throbs like a rapid heartbeat from her clit as she came.
I rubbed the heel of my palm along my length, groaning and dropping my head back against my chair as pleasure surged through my veins. I chased the high of it, my balls drawing tight from the brief touch. My essence longed for more, wanting to fill Emma’s tight pussy with cum.
I didn’t ever touch myself. Any pleasure I got was from fucking. Emma had been my source and satisfied me to the point I didn’t need to use other women—even dead bodies. She always took my roughness with her lips parted, face flushed and sweaty while she arched her back to push more of myself into her. My little mate was a godsend. She was perfect in every way for me. She melted the ice walls around my heart until they were reduced to a puddle at her feet. But it was only for her. She’d won my heart and ripped away every stone I had stacked to close out the world.
“Go to her,”my demon growled.
I listened to Emma, hearing that she still slept and didn’t make a noise except for a few snorts.
“Claim her again. Make her ours once more,”he snarled.“I want to be with her.”
My demon wasn’t patient, even though he claimed he was.
I curled my lip and took measures into my own hand—literally. Setting my drink down on my desk, I unzipped my slacks and freed my painful erection. It bobbed in the air, smacking against my bare stomach. I spat in my palm, curled my fingers around my fat length, and began stroking. I took it slow at first, but the more I imagined Emma and how she rode my dick like a needy slut, the faster I stroked.
Pre-cum oozed from my sensitive tip, and I swiped my thumb over it, smearing it over my veiny shaft. I leaned my head back again, panting as I imagined what would have happened if Emma had lowered herself on me while at the spa. She’d likely throw back her head, eyebrows pinched together, her fuckable lips parted on soft moans. I squeezed my fist tighter around myself, pretending it was Emma’s wet heat that gripped me.
“Sir,”Emma whimpered from a memory.
I groaned, and hot cum spurted from me. I stroked my length faster, driving my hips into my hand as I spilled every last drop of myself like some prepubescent teen who’d just discovered what pleasure was. A shudder ran up my spine, and I panted as I released my pulsing, still-hard dick. I opened my eyes, grabbed a tissue from the box on my desk, and cleaned myself up.
