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“Your kitchen needs restocking,” he says when his eyes meet mine again. He sets his tablet aside and approaches me with long strides that carry him across the small room in a matter of seconds. He’s too large for this place. I can already feel the oxygen thinning out as he stops in front of me. “I’m going to do some grocery shopping. You may read or watch TV while I’m gone, but I don’t want you falling asleep.”
“Okay.” I give a nod.
With large hands on my shoulders, Grigory turns me around. His touch raises goose bumps along my arms, sensitizing my skin to the slightest brush of his fingers. Ever so slowly, he slides his arm around my hips, and I draw in a sharp breath as he presses me back against his hard chest.
I still haven’t seen him naked, but I know he’s strong. I’ve felt it in his arms and his hands countless times, and I felt the slight ripple of discreet muscle under the covers this morning. Now I feel it in the wide expanse of his chest and the unbreakable hold around my hips.
Heat spreads into my skin as he splays his other hand on my abdomen and begins to travel up. I silently thank myself for putting on a bra as he reaches my chest. I don’t think I could handle the touch of his enormous hand cupping my small breast without the padded barrier. His mere presence is more than enough to mess with my head.
But like so many other times, my defenses prove useless around Grigory. I don’t resist when he presses his hand flat against my back to tip me forward over the steel band of his arm. I bend just the way he wants me, pliant in body and mind even as vulnerability speeds up my heart.
I hold in my breath as deft fingers move to the clasp of my bra, pinching it through the dress fabric and releasing. The bra pops open, loosening around my breasts.
Heat courses through my body as he easily moves me back up and holds me against his chest. I feel my control slipping, my legs going wobbly and my thoughts muddying as I fall under the trance of his command.
Grigory slips the straps off my shoulders, and I willingly lift my arms, letting him strip me of the protection.
I gasp as he shoves his large hand into my cleavage and yanks out the bra.
“No bras around the house,” he says, discarding it on the floor.
His low rumble sends sparks through my belly, and a moan escapes my lips as he kneads my breasts through the thin barrier.
My brain has shut off for the day. Not a single thought will pass through the thick fog of pleasure, and all my attention is turning toward the slow pounding between my legs. Moisture is already gathering down there, my need growing until my moans become long and plaintive.
Moving his arm to join the other at my waist, Grigory hoists me off the floor and backs up to the bed, where he sinks onto the edge with me on his lap. A thud rings through the air as he slaps his hands onto my thighs, shoving my legs apart, trapping them at the sides of his knees.
“Oh God.” I gasp, straining my thighs against his grip to feel the exquisite strength of his hands holding me in place. It’s almost too much. The pulsing lust speeding through my body, the heady helplessness, and the exposure—which my remaining dress does nothing to alleviate.
“Keep your legs there.” Grigory’s growly command makes it impossible to disobey.
I whimper with intoxicating powerlessness as he releases my legs and locks me in place with an arm around my waist. His other hand travels up under my dress and pushes my panties aside.
Even the slight graze of his fingers sends sparks shooting through my nerves, and I sink back into him as heat spreads through my body, making me feel heavy and lethargic even as lust speeds through my veins.
A large finger pushes between my folds, dragging moisture up over my clit. “Your cunt is all but dripping,devochka.” A dark note of mockery laces his words, andfuck, it drives my need to new heights of insanity.
“Please.” I whimper, bucking against his arm, straining my legs against his knees to feel the sweet resistance. “Please, can I…” I can barely form a thought, let alone a string of words, and I’m not even sure what I want. An orgasm? His cock? For him to keep going? I don’t know. I just need more.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, circling his finger around my clit, down to my wet opening and back.
I shake my head, still unsure and maybe a little too embarrassed to give voice to my raging need. “I don’t—”
My words break off when Grigory shoves two fingers inside me. A long moan fills the space around us, and I arch into his hand, thinking he’s about to release me from my needy craze. But as quickly as the fingers enter, they draw back.
He lifts two glistening digits in front of my mouth, and I stare at them with frightened eyes.
“If you won’t tell me what you need, you’ll have to give me something else,” Grigory rasps.
I shake my head and press it back against his shoulder. I can’t do this. I’ve never tasted myself. It’s too humiliating.
But his fingers just follow as I draw back, hovering right in front of my lips.
I squeeze my eyes shut and force out the words he wants to hear, finally knowing what I want. “Please, make me come.”
A deep chuckle sounds against my ear. “No, no, that’s not how it works. You had your chance. If you want to come, you’ll lick my fingers clean.”
Two wet fingers press against my lips, and I instinctively start pushing at his hand. But Grigory just tugs my arms under his, pinning them to my sides.
