Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Dima unties my hands and rolls me to my back. “Like I said, I can keep this up all night,” he swears as he pushes my knees wide and lowers his head.
I moan my agreement to that plan when he licks into me. He’s masterful, licking and sucking my labia, tracing inside them, sucking my clit. He penetrates me with his fingers and somehow finds my G-spot, bringing out another shocking orgasm.
And that’s when things get hairy.
Because he doesn’t stop.
Dima throws one of my legs over his shoulder, turning me on my side, and he uses his mouth until I orgasm again.
And then it’s too much.
I’m a ragdoll, wrung out from the sex, but he won’t stop.
Vaguely, I recall there’s a name for this. Is it edging? No, that’s when you keep someone on the edge of orgasm but don’t let them come.
Forced orgasms. Or is it orgasm torture?
God, I can’t even think.
I try to push Dima’s head away, which only gets my wrists tied up with my bra again. He slides his fingers inside me, stroking my G-spot until energy returns to my core. My belly shudders in and out.
“Please,” I whimper. “It-it’s too much.” I roll my head back and forth on the bed. “I’m so sensitive. Everywhere.” It was true. Every nerve ending was firing. My nipples are hot and tight, my breasts ache. I can’t stop the fever that has me delirious.
He keeps stroking but brings his thumb to my clit, applying pressure to my way-too-sensitive little bundle of nerve endings.
“You know how to make it stop.” Dima’s accent is thick.
“Please,” I moan. “Dima, no more.”
“Nyet. This is your punishment until you obey.”
Tears leak from the outer corners of my eyes. Not from pain, just sexual frustration. I’m dying. “Please,” I beg again, even though it’s just mindless chanting. I don’t believe he’ll stop.
I’m also not going to give in.
My legs kick out. It feels like lightning striking, sending jolts of energy through me as I orgasm again.
And he still doesn’t stop.
“Nooooo,” I groan. I’m boneless. Brainless. Completely undone. “No more.”
He lowers his head between my legs and swirls his tongue around my clit.
“Stop. I hate you.”
Dima goes still, and I swear I can read him perfectly. He’s afraid he’s gone too far.
I manage to raise my head enough to hold his gaze, and I shake it. Of course, I don’t hate him. I’m falling crazily in love with this man.
I watch his shoulders relax. He relents and unties my wrists.
“Is it over?”
“You tell me.”
Godpodi. How far will this man go to avoid my question? “Was my condition… so awful?”
I see pain ripple over his expression before he shutters it. “I… can’t talk about it with you, Natasha. That wasn’t fair.”
“Neither is this,” I counter.
Dima reaches for my wrists, manacling each one in one of his larger hands and pulling me up to sit on the bed. “Come here.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To the shower. I’m going to clean you up and fuck you some more.”
I can’t decide if I want to laugh or cry.
All I know is Dima has me out of my mind. He may end up winning this battle after all.
Dima
Natasha is incapable of walking, so I scoop her into my arms.
I love the weight of her soft body against mine, the way she turns her face into me, tucking it against my neck, looping her slender arms around my shoulders. She smells like ginger and peaches with the faint scent of pine and sunshine from her time outside.
I want to lick every inch of her.
And I will.
Because this is the only option available to me as far as I can see. I won’t let Ravil or anyone else put pressure on Natasha. And I’m unwilling to use her pressure points. There’s no way on Earth I could ever threaten her and still be able to look at myself in the mirror.
Hell, I may not be able to after this, but it won’t be because I’ve hurt or scared her.
It will be because of my trampled vows to Alyona.
And that’s why I simply can’t open that box up and unpack it with Natasha. I’ve already done everything else with her. I’ve held her hand. Kissed those sweet, soft lips. I’ve fucked her in several positions. I’ve spanked her, tied her up, had my cock in her mouth and her ass. The only thing I can keep back now is my memories of Alyona. Our bond. Our story. To share it with Natasha seems like the ultimate betrayal, and I can’t do that.
I sit her on the bathroom counter while I turn on the water. Natasha’s hair is adorably rumpled, her eyes glassy bright. While the water heats, I trace my index finger along the delicate curve of her collarbone to the hollow of her throat. Her nipples stand up in stiff peaks. Since I’ve neglected them sorely, I lean down to take one into my mouth and swirl my tongue around it before I give a hard pull.