Can't Let Her Go

by Georgia Le Carre

  I look into her eyes. “You know what has to happen?” I ask.

  “Yes, I must take you inside me.”

  “You sure you’re ready?” I ask, although I’m not going to stop, not now.

  “I am sure. Do it.”

  “It may hurt like crazy,” I warn.

  She grips the sides of my head, tugging me down. “Kiss me,” she whispers, her voice shaking. “Can you kiss me, please?”

  Hunter

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQTHB4jM-KQ

  (Wild Horses)

  I crush my lips to her as her arms wrap around me and her sweet, pliant mouth opens beneath mine, allowing my tongue to sweep inside. She meets the dance of my tongue … and bliss. Complete and utter bliss. I never thought I’d experience this in my life. It intoxicates me and I kiss her like a starving man. I don’t take my lips away from hers even as we both fight to catch our breaths, inhaling and exhaling through each other’s mouths, our chests rising and falling in rhythm. Her hips jerk under mine, inviting me to fuck while she sucks on my tongue.

  But I’m not going to bust her open just yet. I don’t want her to scream. I slip two fingers into her wet pussy. Fuck, but she is tight. Really tight. And I am really big. It’s not going to go well for her. She looks into my eyes and I can see that she trusts me. She shouldn’t. I’m doing this because she’s just too sexy and too willing.

  With my other hand, I caress her breast. I don’t stop stroking. I’m trying my best to lull her into some kind of trance. If she’s focused on something else, this may not hurt so much.

  She moans and jerks her hips, telling me she wants it.

  I know this is the moment. I pinch her nipple hard and her mouth opens in a gasp. While she is distracted with that sensation, I push my big ugly dick into her beautiful virgin cunt—in one smooth movement.

  I feel the breakthrough and so can she. She doesn’t scream, but her eyes pop wide open. I know I hurt her. I can feel that I hurt her.

  She swallows hard.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  “Yessss,” she whispers. “Finish. I want to feel you finish.”

  “Sure?”

  “Sure.”

  I stay still and let her adjust, feel, accept the intrusion. She pants as her lips are pursed tight. I hold until her eyelids flutter. She’s ready for me to stretch her again.

  I start to make shallow thrusts. I’m so fucking aroused, I can hardly bear to keep making these shallow thrusts when all I want to do is ram in all the way.

  “Go on. Go all the way,” she urges.

  I don’t hesitate. I can’t stop. I slam into her and I explode. Her eyes widen again, and I can tell she feels it. No, she’s not having an orgasm. She’ll have to wait for that. A better man than me will give her that. But I have an orgasm, a great orgasm. I hold her until I don’t spurt any more. I’m panting. I’m sweating. Sex with Katya is consuming. I roll off her, my erection fading. She lies beside me. Her breathing is not as labored as mine. We don’t touch. I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m leaving in the morning as soon as the Sherpa and I collect the package.

  At another time, in another place, I would work until she has an orgasm. She deserves that. But this is Russia and I’m some stupid American on a mission that I don’t understand. I shouldn’t have gone out and I shouldn’t have had a drink, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have picked up Katya. Now, I was in that predictable post-sex guilt. She deserves better. But I’m not going to tell her—as if she didn’t already know. I can’t tell her that I want her gone. I can’t tell her that I probably won’t remember her a year from now. I can’t tell her that I’ll make sure I don’t remember her. It’s just sex, just sex.

  There are a lot of I shouldn’t haves running through my mind.

  She is mesmerizingly beautiful, but that isn’t what transfixes my gaze to her as she lies sprawled by my side, her nipples swollen and reddened, perhaps by the ever-lingering ghost of cold air in the room or the fact that I had been unable to stop sucking on them. What glues my gaze to her is quite simply the fact I can’t look away. I don’t want her to catch me staring so greedily, but I just can’t seem to drag my gaze away. I feel my chest warm up dangerously as I find myself pulling the sheet up to cover her in case she’s cold.

  I instantly stop myself. What the fuck am I doing?

  I jerk the covering completely away from her to expose her pale lush breasts and pink nipples, perfectly rounded and perked to attention as though ready once again to surrender its owner completely to me.

  “I must go now,” she whispers.

  “Not yet. I’m not finished.”

  “Only if you are quick or I will lose my ride back.”

  I cover one creamy mound with my mouth and suck viciously on its sweetness. She responds with a sharp intake of breath. I lift my gaze to meet her slightly widened eyes. It’s a dare, but for what … I don’t know. I’m prepared to hold her down, to have my last feast of her before she goes away.

  Her response is to arch her body into mine and claw her fingers into my hair. She is pure fire. It’s almost hard to believe that a woman of such passion and heat was a virgin until a few minutes ago, but my thrust through the barrier of her sex and the visible stain of blood against the sheets couldn’t be contested.

  Her gaze slides down to my cock. It is already rock hard with bulging veins.

  “Do you see how hard you make me?” I accuse.

  A sweet smile of power spreads across her luscious lips and I feel it as a kick to the heart. I slam into her almost vengefully and her back arches off the bed.

  The moan from her throat is deep. I keep my eyes glued to her face as I pull slowly out of her, watching as the grating of my dick up her tight textured walls has her breath coming in short, fleeting spurts.

  Her eyes are clenched shut and I hate that.

  She grabs my hips when I almost slip out of her, her eyes shooting open to meet mine in an almost threatening glare. She doesn’t say a word but none is needed.

  “Keep your eyes open,” I growl.

  Those green jewels stay on me as I slam my cock back into her. Her hands bundle the bedsheets beneath her into fists. Fuck!” she gasps, in Russian.

  I feel a smile settle on my lips. Her soft, but fiery tone makes the curse sound like an enchantment. An invitation to sin. To fuck until the world outside dissolves again.

  She releases the sheet and throws her arms around me, urging me on. I drive hard into her, her hips rising and gyrating to meet my thrusts down into her core, as she squeezes every ounce of pleasure out of me. I fuck us both senseless, my balls slamming hard against her as we damn near break that rickety bed.

  She claws her nails down my back as she cries out words that are incoherent to me. All I can do is feel the storm of ecstasy that possesses my entire body and quickly leads me up to the edge of a cliff I very much want to jump off of.

  As if she had reads my mind she grabs my hips and urges me frantically on, pounding her soft pussy onto my shaft. I go with her. Submitting completely to her as she milks me of all that I am.

  “Come with me,” I snarl and at the command, she explodes. Her cries and my groans fill the small room, resounding off the walls and hitting our rutting bodies. I shoot my seed into the condom, hot and deep and never ending, as I feel her juices splashing on my thighs.

  My hips refuse to stop, driving into her mercilessly until we both can’t breathe. I collapse on top of her, my face buried in her neck in sheer wonder … and embarrassment. I had lost complete and utter control. What kind of bewitchment is this? For the first time in my life I lost control of myself. She holds onto me tightly as we slowly come back to earth and even when I try to pull out of her, as I become aware of the intimacy of our position she locks me in place with her legs curved around my body and refuses to let go.

  I feel a strange reluctance to move too. This will be our last time and I don’t want it to be. I want to keep her.

  “We won�
��t see each other again, but that’s OK. I got what I wanted. I hope you did too,” she murmurs in my ear.

  I shut my eyes. Shit. This is my punishment for all the girls who wanted to make it more and I blanked them off. Now the shoe is on the other foot. Finally, I know how they felt. I try to tell myself she is just a one-night stand. That I can’t get soppy over her. That she’s just something that happened to me in the wastelands of Russia, but it all feels hollow and depressing. “I got the better,” I answer. “But thanks. If I offer money, will that offend you?”

  “Yes. I’m not a whore.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.

  Sometimes after sex with a woman, I’ll leave a bill or two, something to help with the rent, but I can’t even bring myself to do that.

  I touch her cheek, and she smiles. She has a great smile.

  Her beautiful eyes look sad suddenly. “I better go.”

  I move my body. It feels like lead.

  She slides off the bed and starts to get dressed again.

  I watch her blankly. She is leaving. I want to stop her, but something inside me won’t allow it. I know I cannot have her. Even if I took her back to Detroit with me, Anakin would ruin it. The only time I felt something for a girl was when I was nineteen. Mary-Jane had just got off the bus from a small town in North Dakota when I smiled at her. She was so innocent and green she still had hay in her hair. Anakin knew I liked her because he saw us in the bar together so he pursued her himself. She stood no chance. She fell for the sweet talk, the diamonds and the furs. It’s hard to resist the champagne lifestyle when you were used to working at the farm all day.

  After he had had sex with her, he called me to his bedroom so I would see her in his bed, disheveled and still reeking of him. While he talked to me he moved the sheet that covered her and ran his hand up her thigh. Still watching me, he casually slipped a finger into her and started to finger fuck her.

  I could tell she felt horribly embarrassed, but she let him. She thought it was what sophisticated people did. I felt sick to my stomach, but I stood there and let him humiliate me and her. Two days later, he chucked her out without the furs and the diamonds. She went back to North Dakota with her tail between her legs.

  I could never take Katya back to Detroit. Never. I’d die first.

  “Maybe if I had met you in Moscow, American hunter, things could have been different between us,” she whispers.

  “There could never be anything between us.” My voice cracks like a whip in the silence.

  Her eyes widen with shock and a veil comes over her eyes.

  I have wounded her. It was never my intention. I am such a fool. My thoughts were ugly with the past and I lashed out without thinking. I reach out a hand to grab her leg, but like a silk scarf she slips out of my grasp and runs to the door. I sit up in bed and I listen to her footsteps running down the corridor. My hands are clenched hard. It is better this way.

  It is better this way.

  When I hear no more sounds, I go to the window to wait for her. My heart feels as if there is a cold claw squeezing it. She appears underneath the window. I watch her run through the snow. She looks so small and vulnerable. A stranger. I can hardly believe she was the warm, red hot lover in my bed only a few minutes ago.

  I want to call out to her, at least to say goodbye, but my throat is locked. God, I want her so bad my chest hurts. Unable to bear even the glass pane to be between me and my last image of her, I open the window. Freezing cold air hits my body. She must have heard the sound because she turns and looks up.

  She doesn’t wave or smile.

  For a while, how long I don’t know, we stare at each other. Then she turns away and resumes running towards her ride. I watch till she disappears. I tell myself I won’t miss her. I tell myself it’s for the best. I could never have given her anything, anyway.

  Before I sleep, I picture Katya on the bed, under me, urging me to finish, desperate for me to take away the last bit of girlhood she still had. If this were some movie, I’d leave and come back in a year, and she’d be working in the bar, and I’d stop. She would give me a drink, and we would chat, and then I would leave. In the middle of the night, she would come to my room, and we would make love again. If it were a romantic movie, I would whisk her away from Russia, take her back to America, and make her my bride. If it were a drama, she’d leave after sex, and when I looked for her the next day, she’d be gone. If this were a movie.

  But it’s not a movie.

  Katya

  I know I had to go, but the American could have asked me to stay. Would it have been so bad not to let me feel like a piece of dirt under his shoe? I’m such a fool. Of course, he would want nothing to do with me. I gave away my virginity for nothing. I behaved like a tramp and yet, I cannot feel sorry for it. I will never see him again, but I will never forget tonight.

  Never. Not in a million years.

  I rush through the snow, meeting no one but a man so drunk he could hardly walk straight. There’s a stitch in my side, my breath comes out in great puffs of vapor, and I can feel my heart racing inside my chest. As I round the corner, I see Yuri’s truck and the relief that floods through my body is incredible. As it turns out I make it just in time. As I wrap the bear rug around my body and lie low, I hear Yuri come back. He is whistling out of tune and has obviously drunk too much. The ride back is less comfortable than the ride out. For one thing, the hot water bottle is already cold, Yuri’s driving is erratic to say the least, but more importantly is the sensation that I am caught in a strange and unreal drama.

  I am no longer a virgin.

  Tomorrow I will announce the fact to the men who will come to pick me up and they will leave empty-handed. The whole village will be in a state of shock and I know I will probably get hammered by my father. He may even kick me out of the house, but I’m ready for it. I have enough money saved for a bus trip to Moscow. Once I’m there, I will find cheap lodgings and a job. I will be fine. Once the money starts coming into the house, my father and mother will eventually forgive me.

  The truck comes to a stop. The engine is cut, then Yuri jumps out and goes into the house, his footsteps quiet in the snow. I dig my way out of the bear skin and as silent as a shadow, I run around to Irina’s window. She opens it as soon as I knock on it. I climb into her room and collapse on the floor.

  She stands over me, frowning. “Did you do it?”

  I nod.

  “Why are you so pale? Did he hurt you? Because if he did, I will cut out his tongue and feed it to the crows.”

  “You will do nothing of the sort. You don’t even know who he is. Anyway, he did not hurt me. I’m pale because it is freezing and your brother drives like a maniac.”

  “Yes, he does, doesn’t he? Take your shoes and coat off and get into bed.” I obey quickly while she goes to her night table and picks up a blue and green thermos flask. “I made you some hot chocolate,” she says, pouring it out into two mugs. Then she joins me on the bed.

  I take the steaming drink from her, curling my hands around the warmth. My fingers are like ice cubes.

  “Well, how was it then?” she asks, snuggling in beside me. Irina is also a virgin and she has to rely on second hand information.

  I bite my lip. “It was amazing.”

  She nearly sprays me with hot chocolate. “Are you serious?”

  I nod.

  “Wait a minute? You had sex with some smelly truck driver and it was … amazing?” she asks incredulously.

  “It was not a truck driver. It was a foreigner. An American.”

  She stares at me in astonishment. “What is an American doing around these parts?”

  “No idea,” I confess. I had been so caught up with everything I hadn’t even thought about what he was doing there. He had suddenly appeared, like a character from a Hollywood movie, full of confidence, of his right to be there.

  “Come on then. Tell me everything.”

  So I did. We sat up all night talking. I think
we both knew that we would never again, be sharing a bed. No matter what happens in the morning my life is going to change for ever.

  When dawn breaks over the horizon, Irina hugs me. “I didn’t tell you before but my parents put my name down for the program too, but I wasn’t chosen. For a while, I was jealous of you then I forgot about it. I’m sorry I thought those things about you. You’re brave and strong and I am not. I would never have done what you did. I would have meekly gone even knowing that something bad might happen to me. I’m proud of you, Katya. Really proud of you and no matter what happens, always remember I’m here for you. You can always come here and stay with me.”

  “Oh, Irina. Thank God, they did not choose you. I couldn’t bear it if I thought you were going off never to be seen again. I love you and no matter what happens, you will always be in my heart.”

  We held each other and cried then.

  I left before her parents woke up. I walked in the frosty morning and felt strange as if I wasn’t myself. I was walking in someone else’s shoes. A girl who had become a woman last night and who was about to walk into the lion’s den.

  My mother is already up and waiting for me when I walk in through the kitchen door. She looks at me earnestly. In spite of her protestations that I will be completely safe I can tell that she is anxious. Today, I will leave my home and make the trek to a place from which no one has ever returned. It’s scary, scarier than she is willing to admit. I can see fear in her face.

  “Good. You are back. How are Irina’s parents?”

  “Fine,” I answer.

  “Today is your birthday,” my mother says, clasping her hands. “They will be coming for you.”

  “Who will be coming for me?”

  My mother frowns then stares at me. “You are still pure, aren’t you?”

  “And if I’m not? What then, Mama, what then?”

  She pales, literally pales. A kind fear I have never before seen fills her eyes. That I might not be pure is beyond her imagination. If she knew what I had done with the American. It was her job to keep me pure and she would have failed.