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“How long wouldyoulast?” I whisper, shoving my fingers deeper, and I hear the silence on the other end of the line.
“Long enough to make you scream my name for real, Lidiya.”
I know I’m supposed to come thinking about Grisha, talking about Grisha. I know that’s why Levin has made me do this. But that pushes me over the edge, past the point that I can control myself. “Levin, I’m coming,” I whisper, gasping as my thighs fall open, my hips jerking upwards as I shove my fingers deep into my clenching pussy, my other hand flying over my clit. “I can’t stop it, Levin–”
“Tell me how it felt when he came in you,” Levin demands. “Tell me, Lidiya.”
“It felt like nothing,” I whisper, closing my eyes as my entire body shudders, gritting my teeth against a cry of pleasure. “Levin,fuck–”
I can’t say anything else. It’s all I can do to keep quiet as I come hard, my entire body wracked with the pleasure I needed so badly, and it’s Levin’s voice that makes me spasm with sensation like nothing I’ve ever felt, that makes me soak my hand with another burst of arousal, the orgasm crashing over me in waves that make me lose speech and thought and everything else for several seconds until I’m sitting there shuddering, limp as I slowly take my hands away from my throbbing pussy.
“Are you still there?” I whisper hoarsely, and for a moment, from the silence, I think he’s hung up.
“Did you enjoy that, Lidiya?” Levin asks, his voice so tight and hoarse that Iknowwhat he’s feeling. I can imagine how hard he is, his cock thick and swollen and rigid, begging to be touched, and I feel another wave of desire as I imagine getting on my knees forhimin the hotel room, swallowing his cock down until he came for me as hard as I just did for him.
Itwasfor him, regardless of how either of us might want to pretend otherwise.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I didn’t enjoy the rest of the night, but I enjoyed that.”
“Think of that, the next time you fuck him,” Levin says. “Because you’re going to have to fuck him again in the morning, Lidiya. That’s what you would do, after you’ve made up. You’d wake up and let him slide his cock into you again, and you’d moan his name and tell him how much you missed it, and rub your clit for him while he fucks you and comes in you again.”
“Is that what you want to do?” The words come out again before I can stop them. “Do you want to wake me up with your cock, Levin?”
“Lidiya.” His voice has a warning note in it that I recognize instantly. “Don’t play this game. It’s not going to end well for either of us, if you do.”
“You wanted me to do this to make me want Grisha. I get the reverse psychology.” I swallow hard, feeling that bitter twist in my stomach again, now that the arousal is fading. “But I thought about you while he fucked me, Levin. I thought about you cuffing me to your bed and eating me out until I came. I thought about your cock in my mouth and how good your cum tasted. I thought about how badly I wanted your big fucking cock inside of me. So you can think about that tonight, while you’re in the hotel room trying not to jerk off, because you know you’re going to remember the taste of me on your lips while you come in your hand.”
“Lidiya.”
“Goodnight, Levin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I hang up the phone before he can say another word.
My heart is pounding as I lower the phone into my lap, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. I know mouthing off to him like that wasn’t the right choice. But I couldn’t help it.
It’s clear now that this is torturing him in its own way, just as it is me. And despite the fact that I’ve never had a particularly petty bone in my body until now, apparently, I can’t help but think the same thing, over and over, just as I had when I realized that I was going to be fantasizing about Levin while Grisha fucked me.
Good.
Lidiya
In the morning, with a clearer head, I’m shocked by what Levin made me do. I think about it as Grisha does exactly what Levin had predicted–wake up hard and eager for me, curling himself behind me as he kisses the back of my neck and slips on another condom before slipping into me.
I don’t come. Ican’t. It all feels wrong now. I can’t make myself want him, or muster the slightest bit of desire for him. I lie there waiting for it to be over, making the noises that I know I’m supposed to make, moaning his name until he shudders behind me and I know he’s finished.
All I want is to go back to the hotel and take a nap. I make it through breakfast, smiling and nodding as Grisha makes small talk with me, asking about class and talking about things we could do together, now that we’ve made up. It’s clear that he considers the entire “messy business” of his wife catching us in the past and feels as if our relationship is back on solid ground.
Which is good, technically. It’s what was supposed to happen. But right now, it feels like fucking hell.
“If we’re going to do this long term,” I mention casually as I spread artisanal strawberry jam on a piece of toast, “shouldn’t I know a little more about what you do? I mean, if we’re going to build a life together–you know whatIdo–”
“About that.” Grisha smiles. “Is it really what you want, Lidiya? I mean–to be out in the field. If you wanted to go straight into a doctorate program, I could help you get on a fast track to tenure. I have connections. If you don’t want to spend all that time digging in the dirt, out in the heat and in such poor living conditions–”
He lets out a shudder as I stare at him, trying to school my face into something appropriate for the conversation. The idea that I would want to skip the entire part of my job that I’ve been working towards, that I would want to never go out into the field, on a dig, is absolutely insane to me. But it makes perfect sense if I think about the kind of man Grisha is–and it makes me wonder how I ever thought that we were right for each other, that we evercouldhave been.
Of course he would see being out in desert heat, sweating over a dig site as I toiled away under the sun looking for artifacts and bits of pottery and old ruins, as absolute misery. Of course he would see being in an office, presiding over students, being incharge, as preferable to that. Grisha is a man who likes luxury, comfort, power, and attention.
None of those things have ever particularly mattered to me.
