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The stars used to bring me so much comfort... but their memory has turned bitter. I believe it's because they were the last thing I remember seeing before I almost died. One of my favorite views in the world is the sky above Moscow. At least, it used to be. Now,I'm so paranoid all the time that I can't go outside after sundown.
At least I’m not nervous about tomorrow. If it goes anything like today, it will be a piece of cake.
No, the cause of myinsomnia is entirely different. I have visions of Daniel's face every time I close my eyes. He doesn't resemble Henry at all, but I didn't think it was my place to ask as to why. I'm not sure if he grew up here and is just returning. I have no idea what his deal is.That much is certain: I cannot ask Henry.
Should I have accepted their invitation? Would it havereallyhurt if I had made Abram wait a little bit longer for his milkshake? I don’t know how close I’m supposed to get to the people who live here. Trust isn’t an easy thing for me under the best of circumstances. Henry and his father don’t exactly fit in either, though. Would it have been so terrible to spend a little more time in the company of such a handsome man?
Probably.
I might have slipped up. I can’t afford to get attached to anybody, let alone someone related to one of my students. Certainly not someone who looks the way Daniel does, too.
I will have to ask about him tomorrow. If he’s new, people will be talking about him, even more so because he’s so damned handsome. He looks like a businessman that belongs in New York. If I’ve learned anything in my time here, it’s that small-town folk love gossip, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find out everything that there is to know about him.
I can't get his face out of my head. He looked like he stepped out of a magazine. He could be walkingrunways I've never heard of. I would believe it. I'd barely said anything to him andhe burrowed his way deep inside my mind already.
It’s because it’s been so long.
I want that to be the only reason, but even as I think it, I know it’s not true. He has the same kind of dark, intense brown eyes that I’m a sucker for. The lethal build, the dominant aura that surrounds him. It’s like catnip to a girl like me. I didn’t dare shake his hand for long. Even the brief, soft touch of our fingers was enough to send me wild. The calluses on the inside of his palm had scraped over my fingers, and I instantly thought about what they might feel like running up the insides of my thighs.
I think he found me attractive. Even in all of the off-the-rack clothes I’m forced to wear.
Not that I want to get myself into a position where I’m tempted to sleep with one of my student’s parents, of course.
That’s a slippery slope, and I don’t need to draw attention to myself. If something were to happen between us and anybody were to find out… I certainly don’t need to be known as the town harlot before I even get to make a name for myself.
My bare legs shift under the sheets. My body feels like it’s on high alert for reasons I don’t understand. Underneath the thin silk of my camisole, my nipples harden as I recall the sound of his voice. Between my thighs, my thong is damp. I can’t stop picturing Daniel with his hand around my throat, his strong fingers biting into my skin. I’ll be damned if he’s not just my type.
Tall, handsome, looking like danger.
Who would have thought I'd find someone I'm actually attracted to in a place like this? I'm sure inviting him to dinner would be simple. Somewhere away from prying eyes, where nothing we do will be anyone's business. Perhaps I could invite him over under the guise of hosting a private concert.
The part of me that is still Helena would do it without a second thought. She would find his number tomorrow and call him to arrange it for the night over. She would never allow that particular itch to go without being scratched. I would play for him while wearing almost nothing at all. Unless I was feeling particularly confident, then I might simply play in the nude. I love feeling the vibrations of the cello against my bare skin.
Sofia is supposed to be sweet. She’s supposed to be the darling girl-next-door type that’s above reproach and has never had an impure thought in her life. She’s supposed to live her life for the education of young people and not have any thoughts outside of it. At least, that’s what I was pretending.
I didn’t even make it a whole day without slipping into sin.
My dirty mind is already running rampant.
In my mind's eye, I picture those dark eyes drinking in the sight of me. I let my eyes close and drift away with the fantasy. My thighs rub against one another—the wet, slick skin providing easy friction. My hand slides up the flat plane of my belly, sliding upward until I can cup my breast firmly in my hand. I want the other between my legs, but not yet.
I replay the scene from earlier, but this time the room is empty. Instead of standing in the doorway, he enters the room. He stalks toward me as if I were his prey. I keep playing, pretending that his presence has no effect on me. That irritates him greatly. No, he's the type of powerful man who demands to be noticed. He takes my cello bow from my grasp.
He looks like the type who likes to be in control. I like it when a man knows what he wants, and I will happily give it to him.Afterhe earns it. I make a play for the bow, but he holds it just out of my reach. When he’s certain that I’m not going to try to grab it back from him, he trails it over my skin. The bow is soft against the outside of my thighs and up my back as he walks a slow circle around me.
He then pulls it from my thighs and with a softslapI feel its sting biting into my ass.
The fantasy shifts. I’m no longer holding my cello but arched over the back of the chair I was sitting on moments before. My skirt is hitched up and over my waist. He holds the fabric knotted up into one strong fist as I hold on to the back of the chair to remain still. He spanks me with the thin, flexible cello bow over andover. The wood bites into the skin of my ass and the backs of my thighs as he whispers filthy nothings in the air between us. Red, welted lines of skin appear in a crisscrossed fashion over my pale skin. With each swat, I know that he is getting closer and closer to losing control of himself.
There’s no feeling more powerful in the entire world than when a man like Daniel finally is so overwhelmed with desire that he loses himself. Even if it’s just a moment.
My hand dips between my thighs. I push my soaked panties to the side and touch myself. I run my fingers along my slit, teasing myself, trying to draw out the moment for as long as possible. The lingering anxiety and paranoia that I’ve been wearing so heavily on my shoulders all day finally start to ease away. So powerful is my imagination that I can almost feel him pressing against my back, his erection digging into my ass as he makes me beg for it.
I refuse like I always do. I like men who take what they want. Helena was always too proud to beg. She would push and brat and needle until her partner would take what they wanted from her body. In my fantasy, those impulses haven’t faded. I smile in challenge as I let my fingers circle my clit slowly. Daniel doesn’t fall for it so easily. His hand wraps around my throat from behind, pulling me back against his chest as he whispers in my ear that if I want him to fuck me, I’m going to have to earn it.
His fingers replace mine, torturing me in the sweetest possible way as I build toward my climax. He has masterful control over my aroused body. I pinch my nipple and roll the peaked skin between my fingers as I imagine him playing with my pussy. I’m so tempted to break. For him, I want to. I want to feel him inside of me. Only my pride keeps me from begging him to stretch and fill me. I’m so easily consumed by the fantasy that I’m not aware of how forcefully I’m rubbing myself against my own hand.
My breathing hitches, climbing toward that eventual end faster now. His clothes fade away as if they never existed, and he’s fucking me. I’ve won. He succumbed to his desire for me without me having to beg for what we both wanted. I’m pinned to him by his hand around my neck as he claims me from the inside out. He pumps into me like a man with no thought beyond his desire for me. Over and over, he thrusts into me until the rest of the room fades away entirely. His dexterous fingers flick over my clit as he possesses me.
