Page 158 of Ashen Torment
He, too, is burning.
He, too, desires me.
“I don’t see you as being so... fuck—” I let out a low, ragged groan as his hand closes around me, the friction making my vision blur for a second.
“... chaste either...” I grit my teeth, my breath coming in short, jagged hitches while I watch his fingers move on me.
“...Viscount.”
His hand changes pressure slightly. An imperceptible tightening of the fingers, but enough to make me throw my head back.
My throat tightens, my spine arches toward him.
His calm remains intact, glacial; mine, however, shatters, blow after blow, in the rhythm he imposes.
The scent assaults me. Sweat, skin, heat. I feel my seed bead from the tip in hot drops.
“Akh... Da... Vot tak...”
His cock pulses against my knee, the pressure transfixes me, my pelvis responding against its will. A second, and he blocks it with his leg between mine, immobilizing me.
“I said stay still.”
Damn it.
“Isn’t this what you craved?” he asks, finally lifting his gaze to mine.
“That I empty you like an animal in heat?”
“Y-yes—” my breath comes in gasps, “Don’t... fuck—don’t stop.”
“Don’t you feel ridiculous?” he continues. “Full of shame? Such an obscene act with a man, no less.”
“Fuck... harder. Tight... grip it tighter.”
He drags his nails against my skin.
“In the place where you set yourself above others,” a groan escapes even his lips, “where you believe yourself... impenetrable,”
I feel his hand move faster.
“With a man you claimed you couldn’t stand.”
“Nyet... nyet...”
“Stop speaking that damned language.”
“Why?”
His breathing grows faster, and his face flushes red.
The pace quickens.
“Ya... ból’she ne mogú... derzhát’ éto—fuck—”
The accumulated tension threatens to explode, my breathing becomes a pant.
“I said stop!”
