The thought he can bring me to climax so fast turns me on more than I could ever explain. It doubles the tingles in my womb and ramps up my moans to an embarrassing level.
“Come hard for me, Roxie. Coat my cock with your juices, then I can try and stuff my cock all the way in.”
His tongue laps at my lips as he rocks in and out of me, prolonging my orgasm to the point I’m considering classing it as two. The wetness soaking the sheets should have me blushing. However, it doesn’t. I’m drenched front to back, moaning like we’re the only two people in the world and clenching around Dimitri’s fat cock with every plunge he does.
We’re not brutally fucking as we did last night, proving I don’t need violence nor an audience to get off. The perfect rolls of his hips and the dirty words he whispers in my ear is everything I need.
It’s perfect.
Mind-blowing.
Fireworks producing.
It has me stuttering out a warning I’m about to come again before the first one has fully dissipated. It’s a brilliant exchange that verifies every crazy decision I’ve made the past nine weeks was for the best.
“I knew you’d be like this. Explosive and un-fucking-relentless.” Dimitri rolls me onto my back before he curls my legs around his sweaty back. “How many times did you dream about this after that dweeb’s attempt to get you off in the alleyway?”
“More times than I can count,” I answer truthfully, unconcerned by his name-calling. You can’t be expected to think morally when you’re in a situation like this. Even the most solid principles burn when the fire is out of control. “But it’s better than I could have ever comprehended. No one can predict explosions like this. They’re unpredictable…” I lock my eyes with Dimitri’s, meowing when I notice how clear of trouble they are, “… kind of like you.”
He thrusts into me deeper, faster, and harder, turned on by my words. It’s crazy, but within seconds, I feel another powerful, all-encompassing orgasm building inside of me, and I’m not the only one noticing.
As he demands the attention of my dripping sex with quick, powerful strokes, Dimitri raises his hand to one of my breasts. He pinches my nipple, growling when the sharpness of his touch sends me freefalling over the edge.
A shudder rips through me from my head to my toes as Dimitri’s name leaves my throat in a grunted moan. My climax is violent. It takes everything I have and then some. I feel incapable of breathing. I’m hot everywhere and screaming oh so loudly. I can’t control it. It’s uncontrollable. It pummels into me over and over again like a violent ocean refusing to leave a single victim. I’d let it take me if it promised every night would be as exquisite as this one.
“There you are,” Dimitri mutters against my lips, God knows how long later. I’m dazed like I zoned out for longer than a couple of minutes, the prompts of my body no longer mine. They’ve been relinquished to Dimitri, along with my heart.
“I love…” I freeze, fretful I’m about to make a horrendous mistake.
I don’t know this man. We were strangers only months ago, but that doesn’t mean I can’t also love him, does it? He forced me to share information I’ve never wanted to give anyone, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I may have very well fallen in love with him that morning in the plane. He didn’t judge me as I thought he would. He held me in his arms and wiped away my tears. He was there for me like no one ever was.
Whether in fear or euphoria, he makes my heart beat like no one else can. Its patters will never be matched for anyone who isn’t him.
That, in itself, is worthy of recognition.
That deserves acknowledgment.
Confident this will be by far the least stupid thing I’ve done, I return my eyes to Dimitri’s face, gulping when I notice his watch. The speed of his pumps hasn’t slackened in the slightest despite him noticing my thirty seconds of deliberation. He stares straight at me, the altering of the light in his eyes as fascinating as his infamous half-smirk when I say, “I love you, Dimitri Petretti. Your fierceness, your cockiness, I love everything about you.”
Twenty-Eight
Dimitri
Doing everything I can to weaken the knot in my gut, I pace the room. I didn’t know I was walking into a trap when I offered to chauffeur Audrey to her baby shower. If I’d known, I would have put actions into place to protect her and keep our daughter safe. I would have had every eye of my team on her as they are now on Roxanne. However, no matter what I did twenty-two months ago, my panic would still be valid today.
If my enemies hadn’t taken Audrey, they would have taken Roxanne, and then I wouldn’t have heard the words she spoke to me as clear as day last night.
I killed her boyfriend, tortured her family, and have threatened to kill her more times than I’ve showed her an ounce of affection, yet, she still loves me.
She.Loves. Me.
The thought blows my mind. It also had cum rushing out of my cock last night like I hadn’t had sex in years. I filled Roxanne to the brim before displaying exactly what her words meant to me with my body. We fucked for hours. It was glorious, the best sex I’ve ever had, but it feels like a thing of the past now as I watch Roxanne prepare for her appointment with Dr. Bates.
The beat-up Honda Rocco purchased from a used-car dealer three towns over is wired to the hilt. It has a tracker, multiple microphones, and almost as many cameras as Roxanne’s clothing. We have every angle covered, yet I still feel like I should call off the whole thing.
I wouldn’t hesitate if Fien’s ransom hadn’t landed in my inbox this morning. It was short, snarky, and requesting a year’s payout for only one month, proving Roxanne’s chat with Dr. Bates yesterday morning has circulated amongst my enemies.
It also has me confident Roxanne is right. The instigator of Fien’s captivity is a woman. I can smell bullshit from a mile out. Jealousy extends to five. The scent that streamed through my nose while reading Fien’s ransom request was fucking rank. The person responsible for the hell I’ve lived in the past two years is a female—a dead one when I find out who she is.
