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“You’re about to.” I don’t really believe that, though. If I did, I wouldn’t be quivering with pure anticipation for what comes next. Fucking Casimir has been a life-changing experience, even though I’d die before I’d admit that aloud. We’ve trampled over boundaries I thought I had, and there’s been more pleasure than I could have ever dreamed.
“Ruby.” He stops the delicious, careful stroking. “Answer.”
I curse, but he’s not moving, and I want this too badly to use a safe word to end it. “Fine. No. You haven’t hurt me. You bruised my pride. I hate that you lied to me for so long. But you’ve never hurt my body.”
He resumes his careful finger fucking. “I won’t hurt you this time either.”
“Prove it.”
He eases his finger from my ass, and then his cock is there. It feels obscenely large compared to anything he’s inserted to date, and I tense.
“Relax, baby.” He strokes me with his hands, soothing me even as he presses forward. His cock stretches me. Even with the lube and prep, it burns. It’s not bad, though. Just strange.
Casimir curses softly and stops the forward motion. I don’t expect him to lean forward, press his body to mine. He wraps me up in him and slides one hand down to my pussy. “Relax.”
“Can’t,” I pant. It feels like I’m being impaled. But also not. It hurts, and yet there’s a pressure building around that fullness that is pure pleasure. My brain can’t process the conflicting feelings. Then he starts circling my clit, and it all gets so much more confusing. I moan and shake, which only makes it more achingly obvious that his cock is in my ass. But not even close to his whole length. “Casimir.”
“I’ve got you.” He’s not moving anything except his fingers, the intoxicating circles causing pleasure to override my nerves. He kisses my throat, the back of my neck. “It was only ever going to be you, baby.”
“What?”
He keeps up that slow circling even as his hips shift, pressing his cock a little more into me. This time, I don’t tense in response. The penetration is extreme, but the more I relax into it, the better it feels. I tilt my head to give him better access to my throat.
Casimir sets his teeth there. “First time I saw you properly was at the Tower. You were on the dance floor wearing a bikini and dancing as if it was your last night on earth.”
I arch a little, taking him deeper. I know the night he means. “Foam party.”
“Yeah.” His fingers are soaked with me, and he dips to press them inside before bringing them back to my clit. “You were drunk off your ass. There was a guy fingering you right there in front of everyone.”
I had just moved out and was determined to make the most of my freedom. Up until that point, I’d only hooked up with truly safe people, and I was out-of-my-mind jealous of Michelle, who’d been going through bedroom partners the same way she goes through lipstick colors. I wanted to be wild and free, but I needed alcohol to get me there.
He strokes deeper into me, and I’m startled to feel his hips against my ass. He’s seated fully inside me. I tense, but he doesn’t immediately start fucking me. He allows me to adjust to the stretch of him, still fingering my pussy and kissing my neck. Still spilling low words into my ear. “You were so beautiful when you came, baby. I wanted to be the one to cause it.”
I can barely concentrate past what he’s doing to me. “I intended to go home with him.”
“I know.”
I go still. “He disappeared after that. Went to get a drink and never came back.”
“Yeah.”
Suspicion takes root. “Did you kill him?”
“No.” He chuckles in my ear. “I just . . . dissuaded . . . him from going to find you again.”
That could mean literally anything. “I don’t even remember how I got home that night.” I kept drinking and blacked out. Michelle was furious at me because apparently she’d turned around and I was gone. I squirm, relishing the feel of his cock inside me. “Was it you?”
“Yes. Eto bylo” He nips my earlobe. “You called me an angel and told me you loved me as I tucked you into bed.”
Humiliation threatens to drown me. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s okay, baby. I remember for both of us.” He keeps circling my clit as he starts to move, easing out of me and then thrusting slowly back into my ass. “That’s the night I knew you were mine. It was never going to be anyone else.”
I don’t know if that’s really creepy or romantic, but I’ll figure it out later. My body tightens with an impending orgasm even more intense than the last one. “Casimir,” I moan.
“Breathe, baby. Just breathe.” He doesn’t pick up his pace, doesn’t rush, doesn’t do anything but stalk my orgasm as carefully as he’s apparently been stalking me for years. “I always take care of what’s mine.”
I come. I don’t stand a chance of holding out, and I wasn’t even trying. Not this time.
Through it all, he keeps fucking me, murmuring how good I feel, how he loves to feel me come on his cock, how perfect my ass, my cunt, my body is. When I finally collapse onto the bed, too wrung out to move, he shifts back and grips my hips. Only then does he carefully pick up his pace until he’s driving into my ass in short, controlled thrusts. Even after coming so hard, I can’t help arching my back again, offering my ass to him, urging him to keep going. It feels so fucking good.
Everything he does to me feels good.
He pulls out abruptly and growls something in Russian as he comes all over my ass.
Then he scoops me up and hauls me to the shower. My legs are still wonky, so he sets me on the bench there as he gets the water going. I watch him dazedly. It feels like we left the real world behind, but that’s probably the endorphins lying to me. “This doesn’t solve anything.”
He sighs. “Baby, it’s simple. You love me. You’re too pissed to admit it right now, but it’s the truth.” He continues right over my shrill protest. “And I love you too. I don’t know how many fucking ways to say it: you’re mine. You were from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
“Casimir.” I suddenly feel like crying. “Even if that were true, it will never work. I don’t even know what you’re trying to accomplish. Carver City will never accept Romanov rule.”
He tugs me to my feet and beneath the spray. “Don’t give a fuck about Romanov rule. But I’m going to marry you, baby. You’re the heir. You rule. I’ll be your bloody right hand. Satisfies all parties.”
“Just like that.”
“No reason to complicate shit.” He catches my chin, his pale eyes somehow both chilled and heated at the same time. “You might not be ready to admit it, but you already made your decision. The other day. When you kept fucking me after you knew who I was. When you played primal games to taunt me. It’s just your pride holding you up right now.”
At this point, I don’t know if he’s right or not. I don’t know anything at all. Instead of answering or protesting or lying, I kiss him.