As I grip the bedsheets in a white-knuckled hold, pleasure rolls through me unchecked. It hits me everywhere—my trembling thighs, my thrusting chest, my aching sex. It even hits my heart that’s almost as full as my pussy.
Before I can put my ego in check, Dimitri withdraws, flips me over, then reenters me from behind. All I can do is scream. His change-up in position means he’s more deeply seated than he was only minutes ago, and his thumb is pressing against a region of my body I’m unsure I want claimed by any man.
Within a few strokes, it dawns on me how unfamiliar I am with my body. Instead of repelling away from the thumb hovering above what I thought was a no-go zone, I’m arching up to it, wordlessly encouraging Dimitri to increase the pressure on my back entrance.
“Not yet.” Dimitri moves his hand away from my puckered hole so he can spank my butt cheek instead. “You’re too tight to take both my fingers and my cock.” I’m already burning up everywhere from the fiery burn his hand caused to my ass, much less what he says next, “I can’t wait to claim every inch of you, but we need to build you up to that. Once I’ve got your snug cunt customized to my dick, we’ll switch to other parts of your body.” His comment doesn’t sound like he means tonight. He’s talking days away, perhaps even weeks.
My muscles clench with greedy need, excited about the possibility of this lasting more than a night. The tight clasp of my vaginal walls around Dimitri’s cock almost sets him off. The veins feeding his magnificent manhood throb as his poundings turn punishing. He fucks me with everything he has, not stopping until another blinding orgasm convinces my limbs that they’re broken.
Even with my body refusing to play the game well, I ride my orgasm out, shuddering and shivering while screaming Dimitri’s name on repeat. His wondrously fat cock and multiple orgasms have created the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. I’m sore, delirious, and certain I’m on the brink of a coma, yet my body still craves more.
Defying legs that feel like Jell-O, I return to a kneeling position, roll my shoulders back, then meet Dimitri’s pumps grind for grind. We go at it for several long minutes, pounding, grunting, and fucking like our intimate act isn’t being shared with Dimitri’s neighbors. I’m moaning loud enough for all of Hopeton to hear, but I don’t care. This is too glorious for a half-assed response.
Dimitri demands my eyes to his when another orgasm creeps up on me. When he gets them, his hips still a mere second before his cock pulsates inside of me. The heat of his cum spurting out of his cock sends me spiraling again.
His name falls from my lips over and over as my orgasm zaps the last of my energy.
When I collapse into a heap, this time around, Dimitri comes with me. His large frame almost crushes me to death, but the rhythmic beat of his heart and the exhaustion overwhelming every inch of me soon lulls me to sleep.
I’m dead on my feet—figuratively.
Thank God.
Nine
Dimitri
My eyes lift to Smith when he has the audacity to snicker at me for the third time tonight. He isn’t laughing because sleeping for seventy-two hours straight didn’t stop me from catching a couple of hours of shut-eye with Roxanne after our romp. He’s amused about the shock on my face.
He was as honest as a saint when he said Roxanne was smart. Not only did she keep my operation afloat when I was flat on my back, she improved it. She tidied up the books, found a discrepancy that will cost someone their life, then made a handful of tweaks to the Arabian events that will improve my profit margin by six percent if not more.
I’m fucking astonished, and my surprise has nothing to do with how well she fucks. I killed her boyfriend, taunted her father until he blew his brains out, then tortured her mother, yet instead of plotting my demise when I was at my weakest, she made me stronger.
The knowledge has my cock thickening like I’m not sitting across from key members of my crew, strategizing our next move. Rules were broken, and although most of the rule-breakers have been brought before the court, the main players are still roaming free—most notably, Dr. Bates.
After adjusting my cock so my zipper stops biting it, I ask, “When is the good doctor expected back at the office?”
Even with him only returning from New York an hour ago, Rocco jumps into the conversation like he’s kept tabs on proceedings while busting noses. “He was originally scheduled to return last Tuesday. However, Princess P piqued his interest too much for him to consider leaving.”
He smirks when my teeth grit over his nickname. I don’t need him to spell out who he’s referencing. We’ve been friends for two decades, but we’ve been rivals even longer than that. It started with a video game every kid on our block played, and it continued long after Mario saved Princess Peach from the Mushroom Kingdom.
Rocco, along with nearly every otherSuper Mariofan, doesn’t understand Bowser’s character. He doesn’t constantly attack the Mushroom Kingdom because he’s evil. He wants to show Princess Peach she isn’t a damsel in distress. She can kick ass as much as the rest of the characters. You’ve just got to push her buttons right.
Kind of like Roxanne.
My scowl switches to a smirk before I get back to business. “Now he’s been told his bid was unsuccessful, did he readjust his schedule?”
I scrape my hand across my cropped beard when silence falls over the room. I didn’t fully shave because even with my mouth going nowhere near Roxanne’s intoxicating cunt, I can still smell it on my skin. It made showering before my meeting really fucking hard—both mentally and physically.
“We agreed to announce the failed bids within twenty-four hours of the auction, stating the winner wished to remain anonymous.” The shit I’m spurting isn’t unusual. Almost every man at the auction last week was married. They don’t want their spouses knowing they’re bidding for a virgin any more than I want to consider what would have happened if I had lost my cool a few hours earlier. I wouldn’t have covered Roxanne with a bedspread before sneaking out of our room an hour ago. I would have been tossing dirt on her.
“That was the plan—”
“Was? What do you meanwas?” I stray my eyes to Smith, the deserver of my wrath. “I gave an order. It should have been followed.”
“Jesus, for a man who’s blown his load more the past week than he has the past year, you’ve certainly got your panties in a twist. Calm down, D. We’re not your enemy.”
As my eyes shoot to Rocco, my nostrils flare. “If we haven’t announced that the bids have ended, Roxanne’s virginity is still up for sale. If her virginity is for sale, she’s for sale. Point fucking blank. Can I explain it any simpler for you, Rocco?”
