Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
DEMITRI
I’m putting the finishing touches on lunch when Mia gets home. Grilled cheese and tomato soup with a side of pickles. It’s feel-good food. Comfort. And sometimes she needs that when she gets home. These are the days I also try to stay out of her way. There are times she wants to talk about what was discussed, and other times she will disappear into her room for a few hours, resurfacing only after she’s processed what she needed.
Today, she appears in the kitchen in her socked feet, and I know she’s been crying, but that doesn’t really tell me anything.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, offering her a plate with a sandwich on it.
“I am, actually.” She gives me a small smile. “Thank you.”
She takes her seat at the table while I prepare our soup. Carrying everything to the table, I sit and pass her a bowl. We’ve started eating the cheesy good stuff, but Mia seems off.
“Everything alright?” I finally ask.
She nods, not taking her eyes off her plate.
“Mia?”
“It’s nothing,” she says quickly. Too quickly.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready to tell me whatever it is you need to tell me.”
“I know. I’m trying to figure out where to start.”
“We’ve had this discussion, haven’t we? You start at the beginning.”
She rolls her eyes, sighing like I’m the bane of her existence. I grin at her.
“Fine. I have a band-aid, and I don’t know how to peel it off.”
“Huh? Where do you have a band-aid?”
“It’s a figure of speech, Demitri. I have something hard to talk to you about, and I’m afraid. How about that?”
“Just say it?” I ask, taking a bite of my sandwich.
“I asked Dr. Malcome how to find my orgasm.”
And now I’m choking. Chest pounding, gasping for air, there’s a giant lump of bread and cheese in my throat, and I know my eyes are bugging out. Mia sits there, a smirk on her face as if to say ‘you said just spit it out’ and this is now all my fault. I might die by a grilled cheese and never find out what her doctor told her to do about the missing orgasm.
I finally get the food down my throat and take a drink of water, holding my finger up so she doesn’t speak again while I’m drinking. After a few deep breaths and cracking my neck, I finally look at her.
“Now, what did you say?” I rasp.
Her smirk turns into an honest grin, and she waits a beat to make sure there’s nothing to kill me.
“I asked her how to find my orgasm. Why can’t I have one?”
“And she told you what?”
“She told me I needed to tell you. To explain why I can’t.”
“Okay. Why can’t you, Mia?”
“Because I’m ashamed,” she quietly replies.
I reach my hand across the table, lying it next to hers, letting her know I’m there. Not touching, but close enough that she can feel the warmth. She looks at our hands, mine scarred and still tinged with oil and engine grime, hers strong and callused from working at the bar. When she stretches her pinky out to rub mine, I feel like we might be making progress.
“What happened? Can you tell me?”
“It’s about Brett. I know, shocking, right?” she tries to joke.
“Don’t. Don’t hide behind the humor, Krasotka . Be real with me, okay? Just me.”
She looks at me, tears in her eyes, and nods.
“When he would…when I had to…when he would rape me, sometimes I would have an orgasm.”
I don’t react. Fuck, I don’t even know what to say to that. The silence lingers, and I know she’s waiting for me to make the next move. To either stay or run away. One day she’ll figure it out, right? That I’m not going anywhere?
“Mia,” I say quietly. “I don’t understand why that’s shameful. Can you explain it to me?”
She still won’t look at me, but she nods. “If I had an orgasm, it means I enjoyed it, right? And that’s wrong. I never enjoyed what he was doing to me. Not after he started hurting me.”
“I don’t think that. Not at all.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I know the theory is that it’s different for men and women. That men are physical creatures while women are emotional. And that might be why you can’t find your orgasm now, but Mia, at the end of the day, an orgasm is the effect of the cause. It’s the physical. The cause in this case is friction. Rub anything enough in the right way, and it does what it does, you know?”
“But you rub me the right way, and I can’t. Does that mean I’m just broken?”
“No!” I shake my head almost violently. “It means that you’re so focused on the control aspect you can’t release it. You pull back when the friction gets to be too much. Because you’re scared.”
“I do?”
“You do, Krasotka . You stop grinding as hard. You stop pulling me in as deep. You stop the friction before it can cause the effect.”
“Fuck,” she whispers. “I do. I do that, Demitri. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
I chuckle. “What was I supposed to say? Mia, the way you ride me is great, but it takes me five seconds longer to cum when you stop grinding that sweet pussy on me?”
She looks at me, her face completely slack, her eyes blank, blinking. And then she laughs. Not a small laugh, either. This is a full-bodied, feel-it-in-your soul kind of laugh. One that is a release of the demons.
“Dem,” she wheezes.
“What?”
“That was funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny, Mia. What is it you’d like me to say when you go inside your head instead of living in the moment?”
She sobers up, staring at our still touching pinkies. “I don’t know. I don’t know that there’s anything you can say. But I’d like to try.”
I take in her face, her body language. She’s open, honest. Her eyes, still shiny from unshed tears, ask me to understand. To realize she’s giving me all she can.
“ Krasotka , can I touch you?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I stand up, lunch now a long-forgotten mess to deal with later, and move around the table until I’m standing in front of her, our knees touching. I lean down, take her hands in mine, and help her stand until her body is angled into mine. I wrap her arms around my neck and mine around her waist, holding her as close as possible.
“I want to touch you, Krasotka . I want you to let me. Allow me to show you how to let go. Please.”
“Yes.”
“Right answer.” I grin, waggling my brows. “Now let’s have some fun.”
Before she can react, I have her up in my arms, her legs unconsciously wrapping around my waist, her fingers weaving into my hair and gripping. The bite of pain isn’t unpleasant. And the squeal she releases makes me laugh.
I don’t waste any time walking through the house and up the stairs, only stopping when I’ve reached her bedroom and am standing at the bed.
“What now?” she asks, pulling her flushed face back enough to look me in the eyes.
“Now, I’m going to lay you down on this bed and show you how to let it all go.”
“Demitri, what if I can’t?” Her insecurities are coming through strong.
“Then you don’t. Maybe we learn some things you like or don’t like. Maybe we get you close, maybe not. If it doesn’t happen, we try again later. And we’ll keep trying until you see stars.”
“Why are you so willing to do this?”
“Mia,” I say her name before kissing the corner of her lips. “I’d give anything to see you fall apart and know it’s because of something I did with you.”
“You mean something you do to me.”
I shake my head slowly, kissing her neck. “No. Because of something we do together, because you’re going to help.”
“What? How?”
“I’ll show you,” I murmur into her ear before sucking the lobe into my mouth, making her gasp.
Without another word, I lift Mia’s shirt up and over her head, tossing it behind me. I then reach around her and remove her bra, dropping it as well. I lower myself to my knees, undoing the button of the jeans she’s wearing and pulling down the zipper. I slowly draw the fabric over her hips and down her legs, helping her step out of them and leaving her standing in front of me with only her black panties and socks on.
“I’m going to take these off now, okay?” I look up at her while I finger the elastic band at her hip.
She nods, biting her lip. Before I pull them down, I lean forward and kiss one of her scars. It’s faded over time, but I know it runs deep. When I lean back on my feet, I slide the material down her legs, revealing her sex to me. It’s glistening, wet.
“Lie back on the bed for me, Krasotka .”
She does as I ask, slowly sliding onto the mattress. Only when she’s in position with her head on the pillows do I remove her socks, leaving her totally, gloriously naked.
“Now what?” she whispers, trepidation in her voice.
“Now, I’m going to kiss and lick and suck on every inch of your skin until you’ve melted into the mattress and don’t have the energy to give the control any power.”
“Good luck, I hope you’re successful.” She smiles.
“Have faith.”
And then I get to work. Starting with her left foot, I lift it, kneading the arch, until she moans. I then kiss the top of her foot and make a trail of kisses up her left ankle, calf, and thigh. When I reach the apex, I inhale a deep breath, taking in her scent, spicy and musky and perfect, before I repeat the motions on her right leg. I then bypass her pussy and start at her hips, kissing from one side to the other, making sure any scars get special attention. I kiss and lick up her ribcage, only to pull my head back when I get to the underside of her tits, much to her obvious dismay.
“No fair!” she cries.
“Patience. Have patience.”
I smile, already expecting her answer.
“I have none of that, Dem.”
“I know.” I smirk, kissing her palm and starting my way up her arm. “Tough.”
After kissing both arms, I gently bite on that spot at her shoulder and neck, making her squirm under me. I kiss up her neck until I’m over her, holding my weight off her, knowing that might be a trigger.
“Now the fun begins.” I grin before leaning in and touching my lips to hers. She opens immediately, our tongues dancing the dance of ages gone by.
I don’t linger, knowing I have other places to put my mouth to work, and I kiss down the other side of her throat to her chest. Circling one nipple with my fingers, I trace the other with my tongue. When her breathing increases, I pull as much of her breast into my mouth as I can and suck. Her hips lift off the bed, her hands go to my head, trying to pull me close and push me away at the same time.
She cries out in pleasure, her body convulsing with each pull of my mouth. When she firmly pulls my hair, I release her tit with a pop and look up at her.
“What was that?” she pants.
I trail my eyes down her body to her pussy, seeing the evidence of her release.
“That, my dear, was an orgasm.”
“But, how? How did you do that?”
I grin, feeling pretty proud of myself. “You did that. I just helped you get there.”
“Think we can do it again?” She practically giggles.
“You’re going to do it again, at least once. I’m not done feasting on you—as long as you can handle it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to lick your sweet pussy until you scream my name, Krasotka .”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Don’t you want to…you know…”
“Later. This right here is all about you. I have four years of orgasms to repay you for.”
I move until I’m between her legs, my hands running up and down her thighs. Being able to touch her is still blowing my mind, and I never want to take my hands off her. Mia’s skin is so soft, like she bathes in silk.
“You don’t have to,” she says. “I know some guys don’t like?—”
“Enough,” I stop her. “If you say some guys don’t like the taste of pussy, those guys are nothing but idiots and lazy fuckers. And I can promise you I’m not that.”
She nods, biting her bottom lip, and I go to work. Spreading her thighs apart, I settle my shoulders between them, opening her up to me. Her pussy is perfect. Trimmed hair, puffy lips, and wet. I inhale her scent again before licking a path up her slit. She breathes in sharply, but I’m going to feast as long as she’ll let me.
Opening her with my thumbs, I circle her clit with my tongue, applying pressure before backing off, building her up but not letting her crest completely. She tries to grind against my face, but I pull back until she calms down, only for me to work her back up again.
“Demitri. Please,” she begs.
It’s the begging that gets me. The plea in her voice that she’s this close to breaking.
Inserting one finger into her pussy, I feel her tense up but wait for her to relax into my touch before I rub against her inner wall while pulling her clit between my lips and sucking gently. And that’s all it takes. She goes off like a firecracker, her hips bucking and her legs shaking.
“Demitri!” she yells while convulsing under my touch.
I slide my finger out while still lapping at her clit, making sure to extend her orgasm as long as possible.
“Demitri,” she rasps. “Enough. Please. Stop. No more.”
I immediately pull back, resting my head on her thigh, and look up at her face. Flushed, her eyes still unfocused, her hair spread out on the pillow beneath her, and her mouth slack. Her breathing labored, her hands still gripping my hair.
“Wow,” she finally gasps. “That was new.”
I chuckle against her, leaning in for one last kiss at the top of her slit before I pull myself away, moving up the bed until I’m beside her, both of us on our sides, staring at each other.
“You did it, Krasotka .” I smile.
“You did it,” she mumbles sleepily.
“Come here,” I tell her, raising my arm.
Without hesitation, she moves over until she’s in my arms, her head on my chest, her fingers playing with the hem of the shirt I’m still wearing. The dynamic of me being fully clothed and her being completely naked is not lost on me, but I reach over and pull the covers up over both of us
“Thank you,” she quietly says, kissing my chest over my heart.
“Sleep.”
And she does. I hold her as I drift off, knowing the break will come and that I’ll be right next to her to help her through it.