Naomi
Three weeks later.
I clung to Gavril’s muscular back—not daring to look up at his face—as he drilled into me. I knew what I would find if I did: a man whose expression remained stone cold, with jaw clenched and eyes fixed on the painting above the bed as he silently used me.
For the last three weeks, this had been our routine.
Sometimes, he took me against the wall or bent over the chair in the corner. I think the only place he hadn’t f****d me was in the shower. But it was probably only a matter of time before he did.
I felt a slight tremor go through his body and knew he was close. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Gavril groaned and I felt a familiar wet warmth flood inside me. I squeezed my eyes shut as he emptied himself to the last drop. Soon he would leave, having accompl
