Page 34 of Boardroom Ties
His fingers leave me. I whine again around the gag, loud enough that his palm comes up and clamps over my mouth on top of the silk. His eyes, though, are laughing at me.
“One more sound out of you and I’m putting my clothes back on and walking out of here,” he threatens, though I don’t believe him at all. “Do you understand me?”
I nod.
“Good girl.”
He rips the blanket aside, then tugs me by the waist until I’m half-off the bed, ass hovering in the air. He shoves the hospital gown up my hips until I’m bare before him. Then he steps closer to the bed, spreads my knees apart with one hand, and lines himself up against me.
I feel the blunt head of him drag twice through the mess he’s made of me. On the third pass, he guides it in.
My whole back arches off the mattress. Thank God I’m not hooked up to any heart rate monitor, because my stats right now might melt the machine.
The only thing that registers is Matvei’s hand on my hip, holding me down so I don’t buck, and the slow, aching, perfect stretch of him filling me up.
He pauses halfway. “Breathe through your nose,” he orders. “Look at me.”
I do. Tears leak out the corners of my eyes—not sad ones, just overwhelmed ones—and he watches them track into my hair. That look in his eyes, it’s like watching someone stare at a wedding cake. As if he can’t believe something so delicate and beautiful exists…
… and he also can’t wait to fucking wreck it with his mouth and bare hands.
“There she is,” he whispers. “There’s my filthy girl. Taking it so well.” My eyes flutter closed, but he snaps, “No. Eyes on me. The whole time.”
He sinks the rest of the way in.
I bite down on the silk tie so hard my jaw aches. He’s too much, and yet exactly enough. My hands fly up and clutch the front ofhis shirt. I need something to hold onto or I’ll float clean off the gurney.
Matvei bends over me, one forearm braced on the pillow by my head, the other gripping my thigh and holding it against his hip. He starts to move.
Slow, at first. Deep. Each thrust pushes a little huff of breath out of me that catches on the silk gag. I can feel his stomach muscles working against my belly where my gown has ridden up. I can feel the cool metal of his belt buckle, still half-hanging off him, knocking against my thigh.
“Look at you,” he breathes into my ear. “Whining for my cock. Letting me fuck you with his ring on your finger.”
My eyes sting. He sees it and kisses the shell of my ear.
“That wasn’t a complaint,dikarka. It was a compliment. Do you know how brave you are? Do you know how brave this is?”
I shake my head.
“Braver than any of the men at that bar where we met. Every single one.” He thrusts harder. My head knocks back against the pillow. “You came in there with fifty grand and a death wish, looking likethat. And now, you’re here, spasming on my cock, looking likethis.”
A whimper climbs up my throat and dies against the silk.
“Good girl. Good girl. So fucking good for me.”
Each bit of praise settles somewhere soft and starved inside me. I’ve gone four years without hearing a kind word that didn’t come wrapped in a threat or accompanied with a side serving ofbackhand. Matvei’s praise feels like sunlight on a face that’s been underground too long.
I clench around him and his whole body goes rigid. He hisses through his teeth.
“Do that again and I’m going to cum before you do. And that’snothow this is going to go.”
I do it again, on purpose, because I am a brat and also because I want to see what he does when pushed.
What he does is pin my hip to the mattress, angle me up, and start fucking me in earnest, taking all the control out of my hands.
The gurney doesn’t squeak. Small miracles. But the mattress shifts under me and my breath saws hot around the tie. I can’t bring myself to care about that, though, not when Matvei is above me, around me, inside me, and the rest of the world has ceased to matter.
“Filthy thing,” he pants against my temple. “Soaking the sheets in a hospital bed. With a nurse a few feet away. You like that, don’t you? You like being a secret?”
