26. Elanee
26
ELANEE
I t’s four in the morning, and the buzzing of my phone wakes me. I flinch, wide awake, having been a light sleeper for years now. When I realize it’s the burner phone, I go to answer it but notice the video call request instead. I look back and forth. Sure I look like a mess, but I answer it anyway, pointing the camera to the ceiling.
“Dmitri?” I ask.
He sighs in relief. “I just needed to hear your voice.”
My stomach fills with butterflies, but my heart aches as I fiddle with the necklace around my throat. I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe because he sounds tired…. defeated even. “Is everything okay?”
“Am I looking at your ceiling?” he asks, purposefully evading my question.
My cheeks still heat because I’m embarrassed. “Well yeah, it’s four in the morning, and I probably look like shit.”
“I’ve had you drunk and vomiting down my back before. I think I’ve seen the worst.”
A hiccup of laughter rises. I don’t remember much of that night, but he makes a point. “Shouldn’t you say something like I was beautiful even then?”
“Down my back, Elanee, as I piggybacked you from a party. My back,” he says as if answer enough.
I bite my bottom lip. I’d been pissed off with him that day for some reason and drank myself stupid. When he caught wind that I was at a house party, he was there within minutes and stormed out with me over his shoulder. Or so I’d been told. I was blackout drunk. And yet, it’s somehow a fond memory.
“I mean, technically, I vomited on myself as well,” I say in my defense and adjust the camera. I can only see half of him, the camera on an obvious angle. “Is everything okay?”
“Better now that I’ve seen you in that tight tank top,” he jests.
I look down at my peaked nipples and bite my bottom lip. Before I can speak, he cuts in. “I miss you.”
My heart flutters. It’s sick and messed up, but the moment he says it, I feel it in my core: Hope.
This murky path we were both trying to push through might get us killed. And I was selfish for letting him join me on it.
But there’s something in his tone I don’t entirely understand. Right now, I think in his own way, he needs me. I only wish I knew what happened to make him sound so… uneasy. Yet, still warped in his cocky arrogant ways. So I’ll give him what he needs. I’ll let him take and take until there is no more to give.
“What do you miss about me?” I ask sweetly.
The corner of his mouth kicks up into an arrogant smile. “Are you trying to have phone sex with me, Cricket?”
I bite my bottom lip. He looks comfy on a leather sofa with a bookcase behind him. I imagine it’s somewhere in his apartment not that I’ve ever seen it.
“Good because I’m already stroking myself.” He points his camera down. My thighs clench together, a warmth flooding my core as I watch him slowly stroke his cock. The veins in his hand protrude, and I can’t help but stare, mesmerized, until I notice the wounds on his knuckles.
“Why are your knuckles bloody?”
“You’re killing the mood, Cricket,” he growls out. “Take your top off.”
My eyebrows furrow, but he waits patiently. I can push him for more answers, but I know what Dmitri is like. I shift slightly to do as he says and stretch the top over my head. He sighs, in relief and I become self-conscious as I angle the camera back to myself.
“Turn on your side lamp so I can see properly,” he demands.
A flutter of anticipation and insecurity jolts me awake. I’ve never done anything like this before. I take a shaky breath but do as he instructs. The room fills with light, and when I feel as if I’m less than impressive, I notice the way he stares at me. As if I’m everything he’s wished for, and more and even my insecurities can’t fight against that all-consuming gaze and intent. “Use the toy I bought you the other day like a good girl.”
It’s hard not being able to be with him. To only find pockets of time to spend together when I want nothing more than to be with him right now. I want to hold him and be in what feels like security.
I nervously nibble at my bottom lip. “Or should I come over there?”
“No.” And it’s so immediate it dampens the mood. I chastise myself for my momentary weakness. It should be me reminding myself that not even my libido is worth putting my family at risk.
“I’m doing everything I can to restrain myself, Elanee, so you better do something that keeps me entertained here.”
The sound of crackling fire breaks into the silence. There’s obviously a fireplace close to him. Maybe he’s in his home office. I wonder what type of place Dmitri lives in. Would I like it? Thoughts and curiosity about his world bubble to the surface as I turn towards my bedside table and pull open the top drawer. My hand lands on the rabbit device he had delivered to my office a few days ago.
“The nightclub you own, Lev, is known for fantasies…” I begin as I look at the seven-inch toy. One of the many suggestions and gifts he’s provided, but this, so far, was my favorite. I’d done research on Dmitri’s club, but it doesn’t offer many images or descriptions other than lucrative reviews that basically say good luck getting in.
“Yes,” he grits, and I notice a vein pop in his neck as he casually strokes himself.
I shuffle my pants down. “What would you do to me there?”
His stormy blue eyes darken, and even through a screen, I’m his captive. I switch the toy on, its low buzzing noise filling the room. I squirt lube on it, and he licks his lips as I rub it against my folds.
“Point the camera lower. I want to see you,” he breathes.
My heart’s racing, and I feel exposed, but do as he says. “What would you want to do to me?” I ask again.
His stroking picks up speed as he watches me take my fill of the toy. I imagine it’s him, filling me, the little rabbit ears beating against my clit in the way of his tongue.
“I’d tie you up so you could never escape me again,” he admits.
“And if I tried to run? Or if I screamed?”
His stroking becomes faster. I match his rhythm, rolling my hips into each stroke of my toy.
“The only thing you’d scream is my name. And if you tried to be defiant, I’d gag you as well. Maybe I’ll take your ass as punishment.”
My thighs clench as I think back to when he had me on the daybed, my ass in the air as he fucked me from behind and pushed his thumb in.
“I don’t know if my ass could handle your cock,” I confess, while I shamelessly can’t look away from him stroking himself. The muscles in his arm and neck protrude.
“Trust me, sweetheart, every inch of you was designed to fit only me.”
A wave of pure bliss runs over my body. “And would you fill me up?” I ask, my voice coming out in sensual breaths.
“Again and again and again.”
I moan, thrusting the toy into myself. “Fuck you feel good,” I say out loud, imagining it was him instead.
“Christ,” he curses and jerks.
A powerful wave hits me, and I hold onto the pillow for dear life, not realizing how much I needed that relief.
My pussy slowly pushes the toy out as I ride the wave of pure bliss, thinking only of him. The way he makes me feel alive again. The satisfaction he so effortlessly gives me. The security I secretly desire from him. When I open my eyes, Dmitri watches me with a smug smile. He’s still slowly stroking himself even after coming. And yet, I still find it mesmerizing.
“Curious about my club, are you?” he asks. I slowly cover myself with my blanket.
I shrug casually. “Well, I read all about your success carrying on your grandfather’s legacy and company. So I wonder what the other side of your business looks like.”
“Been reading up on me, have you?”
“Not to add fuel to your fire, but you’re a name that is often suggested as a match. So yes, I had to do my research.”
“And why was I never approached about any of these suggested matchings?” he asks smugly.
“Because I told them the truth. That your cock is less than three inches and that you’re a terrible cook with an offensive personality.”
“Hmm.” Is all he says. “Then you’re a little liar, aren’t you?”
“A tired one at that,” I add.
Silence.
“Stay on the line a little longer.”
I nestle into my pillows and angle the camera on the side. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Anything, really. Tell me how your day at work was?”
I chuckle. “You want me to talk about my day as you stroke yourself?”
“Yes,” he says adamantly.
My stomach fills with warmth, and I can’t help but smile, but I try to hide it as best as I can because I feel alive again. That hit of adrenaline where he makes me feel human. Not property but just a girl talking to a boy. The way it was always meant to be.
“Do you remember my client, Mirabella Latine? I’m pretty sure Layla had a threesome with her and her current beau.”
He chuckles. “Oh yeah, she told me about that.”
I gasp in shock. “You knew?!”
He casually shrugs, and it looks so boyish. He seems younger at the moment, pushing past the noticeable exhaustion. I wriggle more comfortably into bed.
“Hey, Dmitri?” I say quietly.
“Yes, Cricket?”
“I know we don’t know how this is going to end, but I want you to know that I’m grateful for you.”
His eyebrows furrow. “It’s going to end with you in my bed on your back and no longer looking over your shoulder.”
I kick up a smile, truly wanting to believe that. “What kind of things would we do during the day? What kind of dates would you take me on?”
He thinks about it for a moment, and I can’t help but let my heart fill with hopes and dreams, enjoying it as if I’m being told a fairytale as I slowly go back to sleep.
A happily ever after we might’ve had in another life.