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“W-what?”
“You forgot how to count, Lenochka?”
Oh, so this is his sick version of punishment today. I prefer the searing pain. At least then I can think of him as a perverted psycho I should hate.
“Lia…”
“T-two.” My voice trembles and I hate that name and him and the way he’s making me feel invisible.
He wets his lips and glides two more ice cubes up my inner thigh before moving to the other one, giving it the same tormenting attention. I’m delirious by the eighth one. He always stops right before his lips or the ice cube touches the hem of my panties, as if he’s doing it on purpose, torturing me on purpose, turning me into a version of myself I don’t recognizeon purpose.
I’m a panting mess, my heart beating in and out of synch, as he lowers my underwear down my legs, then throws them to the ground. He’s deliberate, slow, like he knows exactly the effect of what he’s doing to me.
“How many, Lia?”
“Eight…” I breathe out.
He takes a sip of the cognac and puts another cube of ice between his teeth. I suck in a sharp breath at the view of it wetting his lips, dripping down his stubbled chin. But that’s all the view I get before he disappears between my legs. He places the ice against my soaking folds and I jerk on the rigid surface.
It doesn’t matter how much I anticipated the contact, the moment it happens, it’s like all the fireworks and explosions I never thought would be possible.
Adrian grabs hold of my thighs, imprisoning me in place as he thrusts the cube against my most sensitive spot. The cold temperature is supposed to drown my libido, but it only gets stronger. It could be because my hot temperature melts it in a second or because of Adrian’s deliberate touch or his tongue against my clit.
As soon as the cube is gone, he takes another one and abandons his glass on the table. I should seize the chance and take a drink, but I can’t move. I’m caged in place and it’s not because of his fingers digging into my thighs. If I remove my hand, I feel like I’ll somehow fall.
Adrian thrusts the ice against my entrance and I squeal before I bite my lip to hide the sound. He doesn’t stop there, though.
His tongue nibbles on my clit as two of his fingers thrust the ice deep inside me. My back arches and the tip of my heel nearly falls off the edge of the table.
He laps at me roughly, diligently, as if he’s punishing and rewarding me at the same time. As if he’s worshipping my body and teaching it a lesson all at once.
I can feel the ice melting inside me, and that only heightens the pleasure I can feel through my clit. His teeth are sending electric shocks to my core. He sucks, nibbles, then flicks his tongue against that secret part of me he shouldn’t know so well.
My head bumps against one of the curved monitors as I come with a muffled cry. Unable to hold the dress, I let it fall, covering his head as I ride the wave. My legs give up the fight of staying upright and fall down, shaking and dangling from the edge of the desk.
Adrian emerges from underneath my dress, licking his lips. I stare away from him as I catch my breath. I don’t want to look at him, at the arrogance etched across his face, at the way he’s so smug about owning me. About how I’m his fucking Lenochka.
I’mnot.
He grips my chin with both of his fingers and forces me to stare at him. “You didn’t count.”
“Nine. Ten.” My voice is just above a murmur as I look down at his hand. He lifts the glass of cognac to his lips and my heart shatters.
He’ll finish it and I’ll gain nothing from all of this.
“Do you want this drink?” he asks nonchalantly, as if he’s not seeing the eagerness on my face.
He’s playing a sick game, but no matter how much I want that drink, I won’t play into his hand.
“What’s the point? You’ll just say no.”
“You can have a taste.”
“Really?” I sound as distrustful as I feel.
“Come here.” He pulls me by the arm and I stumble to my feet until I’m standing on shaky legs in front of him. He turns me around and sits me on his lap so I’m facing the desk.
My back is glued to his solid wall of muscles and my legs are tucked between his. A bulge pokes at my sore behind, and it takes everything in me to remain still, to not squirm or wiggle against it.
