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“Not changing anything,” I say.

I keep the angle and the pace. She builds under me, getting tighter around every stroke, her pussy gripping harder on every pull back. I get my thumb on her clit. She grabs my wrist with both hands, holding on like she’s trying to stop me and pull me closer at the same time. I work her clit in slow circles, keep moving inside her, get my mouth on her throat and feel her pulse going insane under my lips, fast and getting faster.

She comes apart quiet, same as before, one long deep wave, her pussy clenching around me in steady pulses, hard enough that it’s a fight to keep moving. Her nails go deep into my back, her hips stutter forward, catch, drive forward again, chasing every stroke. I keep the pace through all of it, same angle, same depth, and she shakes, grips me, breathes against my neck, and takes every second without asking me to slow down.

Good girl.

When she’s done, she goes loose and warm around me, her legs dropping, her hands sliding down my back. I’m still hard inside her, buried to the hilt, and when I pull back she makes a sound of protest that goes straight to my cock.

“Turn over,” I say.

Not onto her stomach. I get her onto her side, her back against my chest, her ass tucked against my hips, her top leg hooked over mine. I push back inside her from behind, and she inhales sharply, a completely different angle, deeper, my chest against her back, my mouth already at her neck. Her pussy feels different from here, tighter, gripping me from a new direction, and I have to breathe through the first stroke.

I reach around and press my hand flat against her lower stomach, slight pressure down. She makes a sound I’ve never heard from her before tonight, and her hand shoots back, grabbing my thigh hard enough to bruise. I move slow, deep rocking strokes, not pulling back far, just pressing deep and rocking forward. She pushes back onto me on every stroke, taking me deeper, her breathing gone completely.

“There,” she says, her voice wrecked. “Right there, don’t move.”

I stay exactly there. Long slow strokes, my hand pressing down on her stomach, her back against my chest, my mouth at the back of her neck. Her pussy is soaking, I can hear it on every stroke, wet and loud in the quiet room, and I can feel it running down the inside of her thigh against mine. I press my hips closer, go deeper, and she makes a sound into the pillow that I feel vibrate against my chest.

“Fuck,” she breathes. “Don’t stop.”

“Not stopping,” I assure her against her neck.

I get my hand from her stomach to her clit, and she bucks back hard, driving herself onto my cock. I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her there. She reaches back and grabs my hip, trying to make me go harder. I give her one more slow stroke just to hear what comes out of her, and what comes out of her is worth it, so I give her what she wants.

I go harder.

She comes a third time, longer than the others, her pussy clenching around me in long rolling pulses, her whole body shuddering back against my chest. She grabs the headboard with one hand and my forearm with the other as she shakes through it. I feel every single pulse of it from the inside, her cunt working around my cock, milking it. I keep moving through all of it because stopping isn’t an option.

She finishes. I tighten my grip on her hip and go even harder, chasing my own release now.

Short deep strokes, my hips driving forward, her ass slamming back to meet me on every thrust, the sounds filling the room. I get my mouth on her shoulder, bite down lightly, and keep going, harder and deeper, until I’m right at the edge and I’ve got nothing left to hold back with.

“Inside,” she says, breathless. “Come inside me. I want to feel it all.”

I bury myself as deep as I can get and come hard, filling her in long pulses, her pussy clenching around every one like it’s pulling it out of me, her whole body pressing back against me to take all of it. I stay buried, completely still, my hand flat on her stomach, and finish before I let myself move even an inch.

Neither of us talks.

I pull out slow, slower than I have to. She makes a small sound and goes still. I stay pressed against her back with my arm around her waist and feel what’s dripping out of her onto the sheets between our thighs. My cum, in my wife, in my bed, in the dark. I stay exactly where I am.

Her breathing slows. Her fingers find my hand at her waist and curl loosely over my knuckles.

I stare at the ceiling.

I made love to my wife tonight. Didn’t fuck her, didn’t take what I wanted and roll over. I made love to her, made sure she came three times before I took anything for myself. I don’t know when I became that man, and I’m not going to think about what it means that I did.

24

Evelina

I got them, the encrypted entry says. I have what I need. They’ll back off now or they’ll burn.

My father wrote that eleven days before he died.

I’ve been at the desk since three in the morning. Volkov is asleep behind me, one arm thrown where I was lying an hour ago, and the lamp and the laptop are the only lights in the room. I couldn’t sleep.

We made love. I don’t have a better way to put it. It wasn’t like any of the other times; it was slow and quiet, with him keeping his eyes on mine the entire time. I don’t know what to do with that, so I got out of bed and opened the drive instead.