“Some of the bids tonight were the highest I’ve ever seen.” I lose the ability to breathe when he mutters, “Yet here you are, sitting on my desk, getting wet over my briefest touch.”
After switching on the lamp on his desk, he scoots in so close, nothing but his next breath is on my mind. They batter my aching sex with so much heat, my delirious head has me confusing them as excited breaths instead of angry ones. I’ve never been more turned on and terrified in my life.
I’m not scared of him. I’m terrified he’ll never touch me like I’m silently begging him to. The amounts thrown around tonight were impressive. If my esteem was as low as my father aimed for it to be, I may have considered their offers to fund my studies. Alas, even with him wrongly believing I’m to blame for his daughter’s captivity, my body yearns for only one man.
I begin to wonder if Dimitri has mindreading capabilities when he says, “You could have your choice of any man, but that isn’t what you want, is it, Roxanne? You don’t want a man. You want a monster, a bastard, a man who’d rather destroy you than ever have you believe you deserve more than him.”
His usually icy eyes switch to the color of a bottomless ocean when I shake my head. “You’re not a monster, Dimitri. You’re angry and confused, and oh-so-fucking tired, but you’re not a monster.”
The air that whizzes out of his nose sends my senses into overdrive. “I allowed men to bid on your virginity after beating a man for doing the same thing.”
His underhanded confession about hurting my father should dampen the intensity brewing between us. it doesn’t. Not in the slightest. If anything, it doubles it. “You may have let them bid for me, but you never had any intention to let them cash in their bids.” He’s too possessive for that, too neurotic, but since that confession could possibly knock our exchange back a few spots, I keep my mouth shut.
It’s for the best. I can barely breathe when he slips my panties to the side. When my pussy is awarded the heat of his breaths without hindrance, the dampness his fingers briefly felt moments ago jumps to saturated. His thorough inspection of my private parts should make me feel vulnerable, whereas all I’m feeling is wanted. My prospective buyers peered at me with the same hungry, wanton eyes, but not once did their gawks have the edge Dimitri’s does now. He stares at me as he did in the alleyway a year ago, his watch so needy, if he can’t get past his neurosis that he shouldn’t touch me, I’m willing to pick up the slack on his behalf.
“Please,” I beg when the tension tethering us together as if we’re one becomes too much to bear. His mouth is an inch from my pussy, my orgasm is just as close to the finish line. This is the cruelest form of torture.
Panicked sexual deprivation is only the beginning of his punishment. I skate my hand toward my pussy. One flick of my aching clit will have me freefalling off the cliff. That’s how crazy the tension is between us.
My hand makes it halfway to my pussy before Dimitri snatches it away. “When you touch what isn’t yours, you lose fingers.” The heat trekking through my veins becomes dangerous when he growls out, “If you don’t believe me, ask the guest I just showed out.”
The trickle of desire surging through me turns catastrophic. I hate he felt the need to intervene when his guests get overly friendly, but I also love it. I’ll never make anyone feel guilty about protecting me. I’ve been seeking this level of protectiveness since I was three. Furthermore, his comments imply that he classes me as his. That excites me more than how dangerously close his thumb is hovering near my clit.
When nothing but needy breaths fill my ears for the next twenty seconds, I get desperate. “Please, Dimi.”
My rare use of his nickname sees his eyes locking with mine. They’re not the same withdrawn pair I’m used to seeing. They’re still full of danger, darkness, and recklessness, but there’s a yearning gleam to them that makes them unique. “Please, what?”
Desperate, I blurt out without thinking, “Touch me. Please. I’m begging you. I won’t intrude on your time or seek more attention than you’re willing to give. I just can’t take it anymore. The tension is too much. I feel like I’m about to explode—”
My shameful beg is cut off by Dimitri sucking my clit into his mouth. When he tugs at the bundle of nerves with his teeth, I call out in an erotic scream. He gives head better than the many daydreams I’ve had about him doing precisely that the past five days.
While his tongue snakes out to toy with my clit, I weave my fingers through his dark locks. My frantic tugs on his hair has him eating me more expertly. He pokes his tongue inside of me, drags it up my slit, then tangles it around my clit until I chant his name on repeat. Then he does it all again just for fun.
My predication months ago was one hundred percent accurate. His skills at giving head are out of this world. Every lick, nip, and suck doubles the fiery warmth spreading across my midsection. It burns me up as much as the tension that’s raged between us the past five days.
“I fucking knew you’d taste delicious,” Dimitri moans into my throbbing sex when he takes a breather to survey the damage he caused. “As did every man here tonight. They wanted to taste you, fuck you, and smear their cum over every inch of you.” His dangerous aura that mesmerized me since day one beams out of him when he says, “Then there were the ones who wanted you for so much more than your virginity.”
His confession has him eating me faster, more aggressively. It’s a painstaking blur of bites, licks, and nips that have me riding his face like our exchange won’t cost me a thing. It’s silly of me to believe, but right here, right now, I don’t care. He can have my soul for all I care. I’d give it to him willingly if he promised not to end our exchange until the bomb in the lower half of my stomach detonates.
“Oh, God,” I pant when he drags his tongue up my slicked slit before circling it around my clit. The flicks he hits my clit with are delicious as is his tight grip on my ass. They have me freefalling so quickly, it should be embarrassing.
While shuddering and shaking in the cool evening air, Dimitri’s name rips from my throat in a husky moan. The blistering sensation blasting through me lasts for several long minutes. I’ve never experienced anything close to this in all my life. It’s better than I predicted and has me craving a second hit even with the first one still occurring.
When my orgasm finally relents its firm clutch of my senses, I’m emotionally and physically wiped. It wasn’t building for days, weeks, or months. It’s been gaining intensity for years. Its body-limping strength is a sure-fire proof of this.
“Fuck…” Dimitri growls in a low, shallow tone as he soaks up evidence of my arousal with two hearty licks. “You taste better than predicted, but you hit the target for speed.”
The shame burning my cheeks shifts to desire when he stands from his seat so he can work his trousers down his thighs. Even with his trunks hiding the mouth-watering visual I’m dying to see, I’m confident in saying he’s harder than he was when he blew his load on my chest. The sheer girth of his cock has me hopeful my taste was addictive enough to have him craving me time and time again.
The primitive part of my brain takes hold when Dimitri frees his cock from his trunks. Precum is already wetting the head of his perfect manhood, and it has my mind blank on how much pain a cock that size will cause. His penis is large, angry, and arrowing toward an area of my body that won’t stop clenching in anticipation.