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My stomach meets the mattress. His hands move over my waist, my hips, my ass. Then he gathers my hair and sweeps it off my back, exposing my neck and shoulders.

His mouth touches the back of my neck. I go still.

He kisses me there, then lower, between my shoulder blades, down my spine. The kisses are hot and deliberate. He is not gentle, exactly, but he is paying attention. I feel his mouth follow the line of my back while his hands hold my hips in place.

“You are beautiful like this,” he says.

My fingers curl in the sheets. He presses a kiss low on my back. Then he grips my hips and pulls me up onto my knees. I brace myself on my elbows. He pushes into me from behind.

I bury my face in the mattress, but he catches my hair, not pulling hard, just enough to lift my head.

“I said I want to hear you.”

Then he starts moving. This is rougher.

There’s no slow beginning. He fucks me deep from the first stroke, his hips hitting my ass, his hands holding me exactly where he wants me. I push back into him, and the sound he makes is almost a growl.

“That’s it,” he says. “Take me.”

I do.

The bed creaks under us. The headboard hits the wall again. My body rocks forward with every thrust, and he keeps bringing me back, one hand on my hip and the other sliding up my back. His palm presses between my shoulder blades, lowering my chest to the mattress while keeping my hips high.

The position makes me feel exposed and claimed. It makes me wetter. He feels it. His thrusts get slower for a moment, almost punishingly deep.

“You like this””

I cannot answer.

He leans over me, chest against my back, mouth at my ear. “Say it.”

“I like it.”

His hand slides under my body and between my thighs. His fingers find my clit again. I make a sound I don’t recognize.

He rubs me while he fucks me from behind, and the pleasure is almost unbearable because I have already come so many times. My thighs shake. My elbows slide on the sheets. He holds me up and keeps going.

“Nikolai, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.”

“You are already doing it.”

I come again, hard enough that my body folds forward despite his grip. He catches me around the waist and keeps me there, still thrusting, still rubbing until I am sobbing into the mattress from the force of it.

The bed cracks beneath us.

A sharp wooden sound splits through the room, followed by a heavy shift under my knees.

For a second, my body tenses.

Nikolai stops immediately. His hands tighten on my waist, steadying me. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

The bed frame gives another strained groan.