Torrid

by Nikki Sloane

  His expression was determination, but I didn’t get much of a look. He slammed his mouth over mine, claiming me in a quick, but forceful kiss.

  “Always doing what I tell you,” he murmured against my lips. “So fucking perfect.”

  I whimpered as his hips moved and Luka slipped a little deeper inside. I squirmed like I could melt into the couch and evade the uncomfortable intrusion.

  His lips parted and he blew out a loud sigh. Shear concentration was etched on his face, like he was in an enormous battle and losing the fight. “You feel way too goddamn good.”

  My thoughts splintered into two. It was empowering to hear he liked it, but logic screamed at me to stop this immediately. It had already gone too far. In my fantasies, yes, I had sex with him, but that was fantasy. It didn’t carry consequences or cause regret.

  I closed my eyes and tried to center myself, but it was impossible. Luka’s teeth dragged over my breasts, followed by his hands, and I was on a merry-go-round spinning ninety miles an hour.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. He pulled back just a fraction of an inch, then pushed forward. His shallow thrust hurt, and the ache flooded my lower body with heat. His breath filled my ear. “You can take a little more.”

  “Luka,” I whispered, making it sound like a 'no.'

  "Addison." His sounded like 'yes,' and that single word tipped the scales. It was clear now that we were going to go as far as Luka wanted, and I had no say in the matter. I slapped my hands on his bare chest and pushed up with all my might.

  “You’re not wearing anything.” Like a condom.

  “I’m clean, and you’re a virgin. We’re both okay.”

  Was he stupid? “No, Luka. Get off of me.”

  It flipped a switch in him. I saw the Luka I thought I knew disappear, and something else took over in his place. This version of him was all hard and cold, and utterly terrifying.

  “Reach up and grab ahold of the armrest.” His voice was detached and chilling.

  “Wait—”

  It died on my tongue as Luka glared at me. “Be a good girl and do what I say.”

  His threatening look made me reach up with shaky hands and clutch at the leather armrest. He grabbed my wrists, binding them together in one strong hold. The tight clamp on my wrists was too much to overcome or break free from.

  “Please,” I whispered, trembling so badly I was sure to vibrate off the couch.

  “Shh.” His lips brushed over mine. “Just relax.”

  It was an order I couldn’t obey no matter how much I wanted to. I stayed perfectly still as he held me down and pulsed inside me, his dick sliding in and out in tiny strokes. My body was no longer protesting as badly as before, but it wasn’t enjoyable. My heart beat so fast I became lightheaded and dizzy. And my heart stopped altogether when Luka’s free hand slid over my mouth and covered it, silencing me.

  “I’ll go slow,” he said. Warm lips trailed over my cheekbone.

  I sucked in rapid gasps through my nose. Oh my God. I tried to speak, but my cries were muffled against his rough palm.

  No, no, no! Not like this.

  I wriggled and tried to get him to release me, but he was unfazed. His singular focus was on my eyes, watching every rapid blink I made as I fought back, but my struggle was nothing to him.

  Please, not like this! I silently pleaded with him. Couldn’t he see how I was panicking? Didn’t he care?

  No, he didn’t. His eyes were dark as black lava and his expression was complete dominance. I felt owned. Smothered under his power. He drew in a deep breath, preparing for something big. Then his hips sank further into me and I moaned in pain. There was a sharp stab of fire, which gave way to a burning, ripping feeling.

  That was when Luka Markovic ruthlessly stole from me what was supposed to be mine to give.

  4

  HOT TEARS STUNG IN MY EYES, but I blinked them back. I used my anger to sink my teeth into Luka’s hand. I bit as hard as I could until he swore and yanked the hand away.

  Air poured in through my lips and I rasped, readying to scream—

  He cupped my jaw and pressed his forehead against mine, his tone soothing and quiet. “Calm down. It’s okay, it’s over.”

  Nothing was okay. Was he insane? The air was too thin and I started to hyperventilate. I gasped and choked.

  “Shh,” he whispered softly. Did he honestly think I’d take comfort from him right now? The fiery pain radiated outward from my hips to the base of my spine, even though he wasn’t moving. Once he’d forced himself all the way in, Luka hesitated.

  “Addison.” His thumb slid over my trembling lips and pressed down, stilling them. “Fuck, Addison. You feel so good.”

  I was trapped in a centrifuge, whirling in a blur, only instead of separating my emotions they were a jumbled mess. Lust. Hurt. Shock. The alcohol only added to the confusion. His voice was soaked with appreciation, and in spite of what he’d just done, it was hard to ignore the tiny tinge of warmth it gave me.

  His mouth replaced his thumb, sealing his lips over mine. I went limp in his hold, not returning the kiss but not running from it either. The damage had been done, and what I wanted was irrelevant—Luka would take whether I gave or not, so I chose to lie motionless and give nothing.

  My inaction seemed to drive him. His kiss was intense and his tongue pushed past my lips, slipping into my mouth. So soft and gentle, in total contrast to what he’d done.

  What he was still doing.

  A slight move of his hips brought on a new wave of discomfort, and I moaned my displeasure against his mouth. Probably because I wasn’t responding to his kiss, he pulled back and examined my face . . . what the hell was his expression? Was it supposed to be worry?

  “It’ll get better,” he said, his voice low.

  I swung my gaze away from him and closed my eyes, desperate to shut him out. But how could I do that when he was deep inside me, making me ache and throb? Or with his hand clasping my wrists tightly together, his bare chest pressed to mine?

  Inch by burning inch, Luka crept in and out of me. He was at least true to his word and went slow. The pain lessened to a point I could think over it. How had I been this stupid? I was almost as angry with myself as I was with him.

  The leather couch squeaked to match his slow rhythm. I couldn’t keep my eyes closed any longer. I stared blankly at the soft leather cushion back and tried to shut everything down. Like I could pretend he wasn’t on top of me, his dick surging inside my aching body, or his mouth latched onto my ear. With all that was happening, it was his uneven breath that became too loud to ignore.

  “Does it still hurt?”

  I gave him nothing. Not even my attention.

  He’d asked me softly, but this time he sounded annoyed. “Answer me.”

  No, not in a million years. I was done taking orders from him—

  His hand on my jaw clenched and tugged my face to meet his. His eyes were chaos. Desire flashed and anger smoldered. He was devastating like this. Aggressive and predatory.

  “If I’m hurting you and you don’t say anything, I’m going to keep hurting you and not know it.”

  “What difference does it make?” I snapped. I was weak. My self-imposed silent treatment lasted all of a minute.

  His eyes narrowed. His hand let go of my jaw and reached down, finding my knee. He pushed it up and back at the same moment he thrust deeply, and I gasped in pain.

  “Does that hurt, or should I keep doing it?” he demanded, knowing full well it caused me pain. He was pushing me to respond to him, or punishing me for not answering sooner.

  “It hurts.”

  He looked strangely relieved as he released my knee and my wrists. I yanked my hands down and put them on his shoulders. I couldn’t push him off of me, so instead I drove my fingers into his flesh. The muscles along his jaw flexed, telling me he’d clenched his teeth, hopefully in pain.

  “Ease up on the nails, or I’ll rethink letting go of your wrists.”

  H
e shifted, rising up on his straightened arms. We were still connected at our lower bodies, but he had slowed to a snail’s pace. He glanced down, and issued a noise of surprise.

  “Fuck, look at that.”

  I’d told myself I wasn’t going to take orders from him, but it was unavoidable. My gaze went to where his was, and I swallowed hard.

  There was dark blood smeared on his thick cock, which he pulsed in and out of me in long, languid strokes.

  “So fucking sexy, seeing proof that you’re mine.”

  This time when I dug my nails into him, it wasn’t to cause harm, it was simply a reaction. He thought I was his? The thought detonated in my mind like a mushroom cloud. I was. He’d linked himself to me forever with one dark act.

  I found myself staring up into his coal-colored eyes, unsure of anything. Luka would always be my first. He’d pushed and taken, but maybe he had done me a tiny favor as well? Everyone I’d talked to confided their first time had been terrible. The girls said it hurt and they were glad that it was over and done with. Sex apparently felt much better after you’d done it a few times.

  Wait, no. That was the dumbest thing ever.

  His mouth hung slack as he moved against me, breathing heavy. Satisfaction streaked his face. In the low light, it played up the sharp angles of his nose and jaw. Why did he do this? Why did he stare at me like I was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen?

  My eyes fluttered closed. This wasn’t a favor. Holy shit, I’d made it clear what I didn't want and he’d done it anyway.

  His hot skin was against my chest and his hands noisily slid beneath me, scraping over the leather. His fingers splayed on my backside, tilting my hips, so when he pushed down into me this time, there was new contact.

  “Oh,” I sighed, wishing instantly I could take it back. What the hell was wrong with me? Luka’s body ground against my clit, sending warm shivers up my spine. I wasn’t supposed to enjoy what he was doing.

  His hands pushed and pulled, getting me to rock my hips against his. His tempo picked up until it was a steady pace, and the ache began to shift and give way to heat. My heart pounded furiously, but it matched his. I could feel his through my chest.

  “That’s it,” he urged between short breaths. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  The conflict inside my head was widening with each moment that passed. It was starting to feel good, and I marveled a little in my drunken state. I was having sex with the guy I’d been dreaming about for forever. Logic’s disapproving voice was rapidly dissipating into white noise.

  Goosebumps exploded on my legs as I did what he said, and this time we both moaned together, although mine was more startled pleasure than his low, guttural moan. The slippery glide of his dick felt so different from what I’d expected. The fullness had started out uncomfortable, but it hadn’t stayed that way for long.

  “Goddamnit,” he groaned, dragging out each syllable. His mouth was buried in the nook of my neck, licking and sucking. More goosebumps lifted on my skin.

  When I began to pant, it kicked everything up a notch. I felt the effects of the alcohol stronger, and I felt deeper pleasure. Luka’s thrusts increased until he was driving into me. It hurt, but felt good at the same time, and I clutched at his back, not sure if I was clawing him to push him away, or hold him closer.

  “Does it feel good?” His lips wandered over my cheekbone, my jaw, my mouth.

  I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Something was obviously wrong with me, but I gave a quick, small nod. This time when he kissed me, I tentatively kissed him back. I’d pretend he was still the myth I’d believed he was until this night was over.

  The muscles in his back corded and tensed. He crashed into me so hard the couch shook, and I gasped. Without prompting, I had to reach up and grab the armrest to brace myself. It was all that kept him from accidentally slamming my head into it.

  “Fuck, shit,” he growled.

  The tension in him grew ten-fold, and I watched, fascinated. He shuddered and closed his eyes, letting a look of intense pleasure overtake him, then abruptly he was backing up. He pulled out and his hot, wet dick was set in the hollow where my leg joined my body. He rocked it back and forth as he came. Warm drops flicked on my belly, hip, and skirt. He was throbbing on my skin while he exhaled loudly, sounding like he was falling apart.

  His rocking came to a stop, and his breathing began to slow. It was an odd sensation when he left my body. The ache was significantly reduced, but the warmth and fullness I liked were gone as well.

  “That was,” he whispered in my ear, “even better than I imagined it’d be.”

  I sucked in a breath. “You thought about . . .?”

  His serious demeanor slowly blinked back into place. “Fucking you? Of course I did. What did you think I was doing the whole time during class?”

  He brushed his mouth across mine, almost too fast for it to count as a kiss, and pulled back from me. His gaze swept down along my body, then returned to mine. “Stay right there.”

  It wasn’t a request. He climbed off the couch, tugging his undone pants up around his hips and strolled to the dark room off to the side. The resident advisor’s room came with a private bathroom. As the sink began to run, I tugged my bra back in place and pushed the hem of my skirt down to cover myself. I also attempted to button my blouse, but my fingers were shaking too badly. What had we just done?

  The water shut off and rustling rang out, telling me he was doing up his pants, and it was followed by footsteps. I hurried to sit up, unsure what to do about the mess we’d made—

  Luka had a handful of wet towels, and as he approached, his eyebrow arched. Was he mad I’d covered myself? He said nothing. He took a knee beside me on the couch and flung my skirt up, wiping the towel across my skin. I hissed at the touch—the towel was cold. But my face heated until it was on fire. He cleaned me up, his focused gaze between my legs, and then he moved on to the skirt. When he seemed satisfied, he ran the towel over the leather.

  I was shaking in my core as he stood, disappeared once more into the bathroom, and returned. The utility belt was snatched off the floor and slung around his hips. Then, he crossed his arms and peered down at me. It was unnerving. Was he expecting me to say something? To do something? I grabbed the panties that clung to my ankle and stepped my other foot into the leg hole, and as I stood, I drew the panties upward.

  My body ached, and I stood too fast.

  Luka was there to catch me as I threatened to topple over, and I fell into his embrace. I felt sick with emotions, and didn’t like the feeling of his arms around me. No, worse. It was that I liked his arms holding me; that was what I disliked.

  He’d forced me to do something I didn't want. Hadn’t he?

  “Are you okay?”

  I stiffened and fought to appear sober. “Yeah.”

  I just needed to get away from him, and think about what my next step would be. Did I report this? Could I stomach going through all of that? Everyone would know how stupid I’d been to come up here alone with him. My mouth went dry. What if no one believed me?

  His embrace closed in, pressing me against him. His thumb and forefinger grasped my chin and angled me up into his kiss. I was sure he could feel me trembling, and it was the reason his arms tightened around me. His mouth was gentle. Luka was trying to console me, yet it only made the word no swirl louder in my brain. I’d been captive under his power long enough.

  I ended the kiss a little too soon for him, and his expression hardened a shade. His evaluating gaze was piercing, and I worried I’d fall apart beneath it. What was he thinking about? I didn’t have a clue what was going on behind those dark eyes.

  “Sit,” he said. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to check on my brother and grab us some drinks.”

  There wasn’t time to answer, not that it was a question. Luka pressed his body into mine, forcing me backward and down to sit on the couch.

  My voice was flustered. “That’s okay, I should probably ge
t back downstairs, too.”

  “Not a chance.” He curled a hand behind my neck and tilted my head up to his as he lowered down into a kiss. “That was just the warm-up, Addison. When I get back, we’ll do it for real.”

  I shuddered, even as my traitorous body responded to him. My nipples tightened at the idea.

  But if I agreed to it, he’d leave, and I could use that opportunity to slip away. The party downstairs was loud and busy, and no one would notice me leaving. I’d probably be halfway back to my dorm before Luka realized what I’d done.

  I attempted a timid smile. He gauged my expression, and looked satisfied when I didn’t protest, indicating I’d stay.

  “Okay, gimme a minute, I’ll be right back.”

  I watched him go, air fisted tight in my lungs. How long did I need to wait to make sure he was safely downstairs and in the kitchen? I metered out my shaky breath, forcing myself to stay calm.

  One breath.

  Another.

  What if I stayed on the couch? What would happen?

  It was the tequila, I was sure. I’d never drink it again, as it clearly made me insane. I had to get up and out of this room before he came back.

  I was sore and rose gingerly.

  My legs moved like they were made of lead. The wicked voice inside me asked if I was sure I wanted to leave, but I squashed it. I put one foot slowly in front of the other, and teetered to the door.

  The hallway was empty. I stumbled on the thick carpet and almost fell into the wall, but was able to pull upright just in time. Christ, the liquor had knocked me on my ass. I was a fool not to eat something before coming to the party, and an even bigger one for doing those shots.

  People congregated at the foot of the stairs, clenching their cups and shouting conversations at each other, oblivious of the slutty schoolgirl at the top, looking down on them. I clutched the wooden banister for added support. My drunk legs and high heels were a deadly combination on the stairs, and I had to focus on my feet as I went down to ensure I didn’t miss a step.

  I was halfway to the bottom when the hairs on the back of my neck stood upright, making me hyperaware someone was watching me. I paused, and glanced up from my feet—