I moan when the heat of his spawn mingles with the fiery warmth between my legs a few seconds later. Instead of coming on my chest to intermingle our scents, he ejaculates on my pussy, so his climax slicks with mine.
As his nostrils flare to cool his dangerous body temperature, he rubs his climax around the opening of my pussy before he pushes it inside of me. Once he’s confident I’m the wettest I’ve ever been, his cock’s head overtakes the helm of our scorching exchange. He coats himself in my juices before lining up, gripping my hips, then driving home.
I won’t lie. It fucking hurts—a lot.
While kicking out, I scream like I’m being murdered. This is worse than I could have comprehended. It makes me convinced I should have joined a nunnery. There was no way I would ever take a man the size of Dimitri without pain, but this goes beyond that. He’s doesn’t have impressive length, he’s got eyewatering girth too. I’m full to the brim and doing everything I can not to cry.
As shards of pain claw through me, Dimitri drops his thumb to my clit. His dedicated attention to my achy bud lessens my pussy’s vicious clutch on his cock. He circles the bundle of nerves on repeat, bringing me back from death one delightful swivel at a time. Within seconds, I’ve withdrawn my application to sainthood and resubmitted one to the fiery depths all orgasms come from.
It’s amazing how responsive my body is to his touch. He could beat me to the point of death, however, and I bet my body would still respond positively to him. It’s fucked up to consider, but the most honest I’ve ever been.
Only seconds later, I’m more frustrated with Dimitri’s calm than terrified about additional pain. Excluding his initial thrust that pushed me to the brink of hell, his cock hasn’t budged an inch. He’s inside of me—veryverydeeply rooted—but he isn’t rocking his hips how his delicious ‘V’ muscle is designed to move. He’s completely still, frozen like a statue.
The worry blistering through me nosedives toward the negative when I lock my eyes with his face. He is inside me like no man has ever been, but he isn’t in the room with me. He’s farfaraway from here.
“Dimitri?” I gabble out on a groan when he withdraws his cock as quickly as he jabbed it inside of me.
I thought the blood smeared on his rapidly deflating cock would have his chest swelling with pride—it was clear tonight the men in his realm view virginities as a gift. They’re willing to pay over a hundred thousand dollars just to secure a night with a virgin, however Dimitri’s chest is filling more with anger than smugness. He once again looks set to kill, and once again, all of his fury is directed at me.
After tugging up his trousers with enough aggression the thread around his zipper pops, he says, “Get dressed and go straight to your room.”
My hands instinctively move to cover my chest, suddenly vulnerable about the angsty in his tone. “Is everything okay—”
“Get dressed and go straight to your room!”
Tears almost spill down my face when his roar makes me jump out of my skin. When he spots their sudden arrival, the mask over his face is the sternest I’ve ever seen him. He appears as if he wants to strangle me until the light he lit in my eyes has been extinguished, or better yet, until I’m dead.
Confident I won’t defy him for the second time tonight, he pivots on his heels and stalks to the door. “I’ll be back to deal with you later.” The way he says ‘deal’ confirms my earlier worry. Dimitri Petretti no longer wants to claim my virginity. He wants my life.
Chapter Thirty-One
Roxanne
Ibrush away stupid blobs of wetness sitting high on my cheeks when the creak of a door breaks through my quiet sniffles. I’m so angry, so fucking mad, but more than anything, I’m hurt. I gave myself to Dimitri in a way I can never repeat, and what did I get for it? Another cold, hard rejection.
He made me come undone twice, marked me with his cum, then spat me out as if I was worthless the instant I fell for his tricks. God, I thought I was smart! I didn’t have the best upbringing, and my parents loved drugs more than me, but I’ve always had a good head on my shoulders.
Well, I did. Perhaps I lost more than my integrity in the alleyway all those months ago. Maybe this is punishment for my wicked sins.
I continue my deliberation on my opposite hip when the shadow from the door moves to my side of the bed. I know its Dimitri because I can smell myself on his skin like his sudden departure from his office was too important to wash off the desecration my desperateness shrouded him in.
“Roxanne.”
When he tugs on my shoulder, I stay perfectly still, my body ignoring his touch as skillfully as my mind does his snapped delivery of my name. I’m not scared of him anymore. How can I be scared when all I’m feeling is embarrassed?
“Roxanne.” Dimitri’s voice is louder this time—as is his shove. “I know you’re not asleep.”
I almost bark out that he doesn’t know me well enough to know when I’m fake sleeping, but hold back the urge. I’m done playing his game as much as I’m done playing nice.
“Do you want to know how I know you’re awake?”
More silence—lots and lots of silence.
“Your nipples always bud when I touch you, but when you’re asleep, you instinctively roll onto your back, begging for more.”
I don’t know what to respond to first. His confession that he touches me when I’m sleeping or his lower, more controlled tone. I can feel how worked up he is, smell it roasting on his skin, but he’s fighting to keep his anger under wraps. For why? I have no clue.
The stranglehold of emotions clutching my throat flies out the window when Dimitri tries a different tactic. “We got a solid lead from one of your contacts tonight.”
