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 They’re not the same withdrawn pair I’m used to seeing.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.
“Are you sure you want this, Roxanne?” Dimitri asks as he fists his cock to give it a hearty squeeze, “Because it’ll hurt. Your tight little cunt is going to feel me for days once I’m finished with it.”
I nod, a better response above me. I thought my earlier orgasm was as powerful as they’d get, but the image of Dimitri working his cock in and out of his fist while staring down at my drenched sex reveals I starkly underestimated their abilities. The one cresting in my womb now feels like a tsunami, growing more devastating when Dimitri loses the ability to harness his desires for the second time.
He doesn’t plunge his thick cock into me like my devious mind was hoping. He falls to his knees, spread my thighs wide, then burrows his head back between my legs. “You taste too fucking good for only one sample.”
After notching a single finger inside of me, he delves his tongue around his frozen digit, easing the burn his fat finger caused. He eats me for the next several minutes before adding a second finger to the mix.
I don’t realize how noisy I’m being until my moans bounce off the walls of Dimitri’s office. I grunt and moan on repeat while fighting the urge to tell him to stop. I don’t want him to stop, but if I don’t say something, I’ll explode into a blubbering mess of wetness and sin even quicker than I did the first time. I hadn’t considered the thought of him fingering me and giving me head at the same time. None of my college boyfriends could multitask. I either got one or the other, there was no option for both.
Seemingly linked to my inner workings, Dimitri grips my ass, thrusts my pussy off his desk, then eats the living hell out of me. I’m brought to climax by his tongue within seconds.
“Yes,” Dimitri hisses into my pussy when my nails grip the top of his shoulders. As scream after scream rips through me, I ride the intensity of my second climax like its more vital than my lungs needing air to function.
I’ve barely merged from hysteria when Dimitri attempts to squash a third finger inside of me. Unlike his earlier penetration, this one can’t enter without protest. I’m drenched from front to back, but no amount of wetness will simplify this process. It’s not meant to be easy.
“You’re close to taking a third finger,” Dimitri mutters under his breath as he swivels the two inside of me, “But it won’t be done without pain.” His bedroom skills are undeniable when he continues finger-fucking me without pause while standing to his feet. “I want to hurt you, but I don’t want to hurt you so much, you’re out of action for days on end.”
Any worries on me drying up fly out the window when he fists his cock in his other hand for the second time. He doesn’t choke it to calm it down. He strokes it to bring himself to climax like he did when his jealousy got the better of him. His pumps are fast and fluid despite the fact his eyes never once leave my face. He watches me watching him come undone, his stroke quickening the more my eyes dart between his face and his impressive cock.
