he spoke them in English. I could only close my eyes and chase friction until he pressed his lips to my ear and demanded, “Otvet’ mne.” Answer me. The words were soft and coarse but a command nonetheless.
I didn’t have the breath to tell him he was speaking Russian. All I knew was, if he kept fingering me, he could have anything he wanted: my heart, my soul, anal—whatever. So I hoped he sought a “yes” response, and I nodded.
He abruptly pulled his fingers away. The budding release crashed, and desperation seared through me in waves.
“No. Please,” I begged, my eyes flicking open. “Please—”
He covered my mouth with a hand and pushed into me with one hard thrust that tore a cry of pain from my throat. It felt like a lance of fire, burning so intensely tears pooled in my eyes. I gripped his forearm for something to hold onto, my blunt nails digging through his shirtsleeve. Reflexively, my back arched in an effort to shove him out, but he was too heavy to remove.
Ronan’s heart pounded against my chest, every inch of his body tense. “Kotyonok . . . yesli ya—” He clenched his teeth and tried again in English. “If I pull out, will I have blood on my cock?”
I didn’t know how he expected me to answer with his palm still covering my mouth, so I only shook my head in a hopeful lie. It was the perfect timing for a tear to run down my cheek and over his hand.
He watched the tear’s descent like it was acid, then pulled his palm away and braced both of them on the couch beside my head. “Fuck,” he growled before closing his eyes and exhaling. “Please tell me you’re just a really tight and emotional fuck, Mila.”
Clearly, I just gave my virginity to the most charming man in Europe.
Ronan already knew the answer, but it seemed he was grasping at straws. A tightness spread in my stomach with the feeling he would end this if I confirmed I was a virgin. Even though the foreign fullness inside of me burned, the walls of my chest threatened to fall apart if he pulled out. I wasn’t sure whether it was pain or something else that convinced another tear to run down my cheek.
“I think I just have some dust in my eyes,” I said shakily, throat thick.
He stared at me for a beat before releasing a frustrated noise between his teeth. I winced at the sting when he leaned back so he could watch his thick length slide out an inch. As a drop of wetness slid down my thigh, I realized he’d probably find evidence he thoroughly popped my cherry.
“Malen’kaya lgunishka . . .” he rasped, confirming I bled.
I forced a swallow when he ran a hand across his mouth, his gaze still between my legs. I didn’t know if he was fascinated by the sight of the blood or if he thought it would give him some kind of allergic reaction that would ruin his entire night.
Apparently, he was willing to risk it because, with a rough breath, he gripped my hips and eased back in. Inhaling, I slowly adjusted to the fullness of him inside of me before he pulled out a little bit again. He watched himself fuck me an inch at a time, the look in his eyes clouded thunder. His grasp threatened to bruise, but with every slow slide, the throbbing in my core began to warm and tingle. I shifted, which pushed him inside so deep he hit a pleasurable spot that drew a small hum from my lips.
“Fuck.” Ronan pushed away from me like I was on fire, releasing an angry, tortured growl as if I was the villain in the room who just stole his innocence. He left me lying there naked, a shaky coldness in my veins and an emptiness swelling between my legs. Confusion ran rampant as I felt him walk to the other side of the room.
“I don’t fuck virgins, kotyonok.” It was an icy, uncompromising statement.
I flinched as if he’d slapped me. The words were a blow considering he just took something I couldn’t give to anyone else and then threw it away like it inconvenienced him. My heart clenched. I hadn’t felt so vulnerable in my entire life. A hot and heavy mass invaded my throat.
With shaky hands, I closed my ripped romper as best I could and sat up, feeling so sick and