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A need almost as violent as his bursts alive in me, making me arch my back shamelessly and moan out loud. I feel wanton and depraved in a most lustful sense, more connected to my own sexual desires than I’ve ever been before—more free.
“That’s a good, dirty little girl,” Grigory rasps, followed by a grunt. “Show me how much you want it.”
He strokes his length up and down through my lips a couple of times, and it has me wriggling my hips frantically. “Please,” I beg, out of control, consumed by desire. “Please fuck me.”
“What will you do to get my cock?”
I press back, trying to get him inside me, but he just grabs my hip, forcing me into place with one massive hand. Gripping my hair with the other, he yanks my head back and leans in to sneer close to my ear. “Will you suck up your filthy juices to get me inside you?”
“Yes,” I say breathily, barely realizing what he’s saying, just knowing I will do it, whatever it is, if it means he’ll put me out of my horny misery.
Releasing my hair, he shoves my head back down and moves his fingers down between my legs.
“Aaah,” I moan when he thrusts two fingers straight inside me, pumping and turning them a few times before pulling back out and shoving them in front of my face.
“Suck,” he demands.
I stare at the two glistening digits in equal horror and fascination as he again grabs my hair and holds me in place. I don’t manage to process anything before he shoves them into my mouth.
My reaction is purely instinctive. I start sucking, lapping up the musky taste of myself.
“Such a dirty, dirty little girl,” Grigory half taunts, half praises.
There’s a flicker of shame, but most of all, I feel a burning hot desire and the all-consuming need to submit. Submit to his will and my own lust. And I do just that. I keep sucking until every last drop of my juices is gone, and when he repeats, I do it all over again.
Finally, I’m so wrought with pulsing desire that I can’t take it anymore. “Please,” I whimper when he pushes his fingers inside me for the sixth time. “Please fuck me.”
I let out a frustrated cry when he moves his fingers toward my mouth again. But this time, he smears the wetness onto my face. Then both of his hands are on my hips. Without preamble, he rams into me, impossibly hard and thick.
I cry out into the room. Then into the comforter as Grigory shoves my head forward. He holds me there, snuffing out my breath as he slams into me over and over again. I clutch the sheets, squirming and wriggling as the need to breathe ramps up, but he has me locked in place, one hand clamped onto my hip, the other fisted in my hair.
My lungs sting with the need to breathe, even as my nervous system struggles to contain the overload of pain and pleasure being rammed into me with each hard thrust. It gathers and coils deep in my belly, pulsing and twitching as I slip further onto the edge. But I can’t get there—I need to breathe.
I heave against the comforter, dragging the fabric into my mouth, desperation growing as the need for air claws in my lungs.
Suddenly, he yanks my head up, and I suck in an all too large gulp of air. The rush is like an electric shock, shoving me over the edge, making me spasm and jerk as a raw scream bursts through my throat. I heave and scream, claw and writhe, and then he’s coming too.
His fingers dig into my skin, his fist tightening on my hair as he swells inside me. It burns and stings, yet somehow, it prolongs my orgasm. I shudder from the force, my screams blending with his guttural growls.
“You feel so good,devochka,” he rasps, holding me in place as he jerks with the last ripples of his orgasm. “Such a dirty, dirty little girl.” He uncurls his hands, pressing his palms flat on my back and head as I collapse on the mattress. His touch is warm and tender, his voice the same as he repeats the words. “A dirty little girl.”
“Thank you,” I whisper between hard breaths.
I think I’m thanking him for fucking me, but then I realize I’m thanking him for those words. They are wrong and demeaning, but coming from his mouth, they are freeing andintoxicating.
I thought he had already taken all I have to give, but he has opened up this new side of me—this dirty side that wants to lap up my own juices, suck his cock, and be fucked like a wanton slut.
A dirty girl who relishes the depravity of it all.
Hisdirty girl.
—CHAPTER 5 —
CLARA
During the next few days, I grow increasingly uneasy. Grigory is going back to Berlin on Friday to conduct anotherToscashow, and his imminent departure dredges up a whole slew of nervous emotions. I knew this was coming all along—he said he’d have to go back to conduct the last two shows the night he suggested coming home with me. But that doesn’t make it any easier.
I constantly remind myself of Markus’s reassurances about Grigory having committed. It helps for a while, but as Friday closes in, so do the memories of all the times he shut me out during the summer.
