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CHAPTER 22
Arianna
My heart’s pounding, adrenaline shaking my entire body. I held Dimitri’s fate in my hands, and instead of shooting him, I saved his life. That man wasn’t paying attention to me, his focus was on Dimitri. Since none of the shooters had put a bullet in him, I can only assume they wanted him alive.
That was my one chance to end this between us and get away.
But I didn’t pull the trigger.
Now I know that I never will.
Silence stretches between me and Dimitri. We sit opposite each other in the limo, the air between us thick with tension and unspoken thoughts. When his gaze locks with mine, my heart skips a beat.
We look into each other’s eyes, mesmerized and vulnerable, for what feels like an eternity. His gaze shines with wonder bordering on disbelief, then uncertainty, until finally transforming to smoldering heat.
The tension between us ratchets high. I can feel its pressure against my skin, like a living, breathing entity.
My chest rapidly rises and falls. I grip the seat to hold myself in place, the need to touch the man in front of me suddenly becomes overwhelming, nearly impossible to resist.
He moves first, and the atmosphere bursts. I’m reaching for him. Our lips crash together. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth and I suck on it. My fingers thread through his hair that’s just long enough to grip and pull. One of his hands roams my hips and waist, while the other cradles my head, keeping me pressed flush against him.
We’re on our knees on the limo’s floor, tangled up in each other, our bodies telling truths that our tongues won’t dare speak.
I want you.
I need you.
I hate you.
I’m obsessed with you.
Dimitri peppers kisses along my jaw, licks my neck like it’s his favorite flavor of ice cream, then goes lower, nipping my flesh along the way. He lifts me back onto the seat and clasps the seat belt around my waist.
I frown at him. That’s it? Are we done?
His answering smirk tells me otherwise. Slowly, he lifts my skirt, his fingers gliding up my bare thighs, and I sharply inhale. He pulls my hips forward, positioning me at the edge of the seat, then ducks down, disappearing beneath the fabric of my dress.
My lips part, shocked when he tears off my panties. His hot breath heats my pussy. Then he tastes me. Tentative at first, as though he’s sampling a new flavor. He murmurs something in Russian against my flesh. His tongue delves deeper, licking, lapping at my molten core.
With a moan, my head falls back against the seat.
He drapes my legs over his broad shoulders, then grabs my hips. The new angle gives him better access and I gasp. His tongue circles my clit. The sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. So good.
My fingers dig into his shoulders as he increases the pressure and pacing. Oh my god. A loud moan escapes my throat.
When he pushes one finger into my soaked pussy, I come apart. The best orgasm of my life overtakes my body. My mind blanks. All I know is pleasure, wave after wave of pure, all-consuming bliss.
Dimitri eventually rocks back on his heels, his heated gaze settling on mine. “You’re delicious, kisa.” He pops his finger into his mouth, sucking it clean. “Has any man ever made you come on his tongue before?”
I shake my head. I have no energy for anything other than telling the truth.
“Good. Because you taste better than I imagined. Your sweet pussy is all mine, it belongs to me. Actually, I haven’t had enough of your sweet, hungry cunt yet.”
He parts my legs and buries his face between them again. I squeak in part surprise, part protest. He can’t possibly…
But he does. This time he works me up so slowly it’s the best kind of torture. Two of his fingers slip into my pussy, stretching me, and he grunts at my low whimper.
All the sensation is too much, yet not enough at the same time. Soon he has me panting, begging for more. Pleading in a way I never thought I would.
