18. Yuri

Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the bed frame and exhaled a long, slow sigh. … I wanted her badly.

I hated it when women cried. Hated. Hated. Hated it. At the first sign of tears, I got angry, or I left the room. But as soon as my arms had gone around Katya, everything I’d been certain of was gone.

She reached for me not out of passion just the need for human touch. It electrified me. No one had ever sought comfort from me before, and the act of giving it had felt more unspeakably intimate than the most blistering sex. I’d felt the force of my entire being wrap around her in a moment of sweet, raw connection.

My thoughts were in anarchy. My body still smoldered with Katya’s slight weight in my lap. I had kissed her silky cheek, damp with salt tears and I wanted to kiss her again, everywhere, for hours. I wanted her naked and exhausted in my arms.

I couldn’t believe this girl wasn’t a complete wreck after what I had put her through and what her father had put her through and what she had put herself through. She should be crying in a corner, incomprehensible, inconsolable. But here she was, strong enough to be weak in my arms.

“Tell me why you chose here college over marrying Petya or me?” The question came tumbling out unexpectedly but now that it was out there, I desperately wanted to know the answer. A weak person would have jumped at the protection and limited independence a sham marriage would have afforded. Escaping from marriage would have been easier than escape from here. But she rejected that easier path.

“Marriage never works out the way it’s supposed to,” she answered without thinking.

“How do you mean? How should it work out?”

“Two people should be able to stand each other.”

“Sure, that helps,” I chuckled.

“No, really. Too many end up with slammed doors and separate bedrooms and persist like that,” she insisted.

I never knew her father when he was still married to her mother, but Dmitry had brought their marriage up once or twice to me. The slammed doors and separate bedrooms were straight out of their relationship, as he told it.

“It can get to that point, I suppose. But it doesn’t normally start out that way, right? Or do you think it does?”

“Getting to that point shouldn’t be possible in a good relationship,” she said.

“That’s na?ve. Every relationship has rocky parts and can end badly. Or end well. Or not at all. It’s a choice.”

“That’s na?ve. If it was a choice, it would be easy. You really believe it’s as simple as making a choice?” She leaned forward to looking at me, incredulously.

“I. Am not. Na?ve,” I told her, slowly. “You need to make that choice every day and never forget about it. That’s not easy,” she’s trying to get inside my head. She is getting inside my head, dammit. “But I’m not here to talk about this stupid stuff with you.”

As much to console myself as console her, my hand floats towards her like it has a mind of its own, the warmth of her hip, the solidity of her curve. The air between us is tense and crackling.

This time I would be the one fucking my troubles away.

“You’re numb, huh?” I ask.

She nods slowly.

“Let’s see if I can make you feel something again.”

I rolled her onto her back and lay myself down on top of her. Her tits press into my chest as her bare thighs part for me instantly. Her brown eyes are almost black in the shadows, but they stay fixed on me.

She’s looking at me for comfort, for reassurance.

But the only thing I can give her now is distraction.

I freed myself from my pants and pushed into her in one fierce, hungry thrust. She cries out, her hands digging into the mattress on either side.

It’s late; I’m exhausted. I’ve been operating on three hours of sleep over the last three days. But with my cock buried inside her wet, warm pussy, I can feel the adrenaline giving me the boost I need.

She moans desperately in my ears. The sound ignites the beast inside me.

I fuck her more aggressively, never stopping or slowing down long enough to ask if she can take it. I know she can. She was born to take it.

Her thighs clench around my hips, urging me farther inward. I push myself up on my hands so I can look down at her as I fuck her.

Shoving her shirt up over her chest, I snare one hard nipple between my lips.

“Oh God,” she gasps. “Yuri.”

My name on her lips is enough to make me explode right there. But I hold back. A little longer. A little more.

I slide a hand down between us and start rubbing her clit in tender circles.

“Yeah,” she groans as her eyes roll back in her head. “Yeah… like that… oh God…”

Vibrations course through her. She clenches around my cock. Her body wants more of me, as much as it can get.

I can’t give her everything.

But I can give her enough.

With one more savage thrust, I release, grinding my teeth at the intensity of the orgasm that claws into me. My lips splutter, my fingers spasm, and beneath me, Katya mewls like an animal in heat.

When I’m finished, her eyes flutter closed. Her back is still arched a little, as though she’s been frozen at the peak of coming.

I run my hand down her neck, between her breasts. I follow the thin line of cold sweat that leads to her belly button. She looks like a fucking work of art as the shadows play with the sensuous lines of her body.

When she finally opens her eyes, though, I force myself to let her go. I stand up, tuck myself away, and leave her in a bed that smells like the both of us.