Chapter Twenty-One
In which Dmitri's cock is like Mt. Everest, you have to climb it, even if it kills you.
Ava…
Dmitri rolls me over in a blur, his mouth is on mine and oh, God the taste of him. He kisses me like it's all he needs to survive, his long fingers stroking and squeezing my ass. I can feel him against my stomach and holy fuck, he feels huge.
This is something bigger than a penis. That word doesn't do it justice.
It's a cock, hot and throbbing with a heartbeat of its own, and when I slide a hand between us to grasp it over his sweats, his eyes darken like a storm over a glacier.
He's ripping my sports bra off, squeezing my breasts greedily, no guile, no technique.
Just avaricious and I groan into his mouth, squeezing his shaft harder.
I'm not sure when my leggings come off or his sweatpants, but we're bare, and he's running his cock against the slim furrow between my legs.
Long, slow strokes until both of us are slick and wet, and I'm moaning into his mouth.
Dmitri rises, his cock in his hand and a question in his eyes. I look down and my breath hitches. It's ridiculously thick, throbbing, and hard. His thumb runs over the tip, spreading another bead of moisture, his heavy balls hang between us.
I raise my hips and he pushes the head inside me. I suck in a deep breath because it doesn't feel like there's any room inside me for anything besides his cock.
"I'm trying to go slow," he grits out. "But fuuuck, your cunt is like a fist, hot and slick…"
His hips move smoothly with each word, sending another inch inside me each time until finally his control snaps and he thrusts hard, our hips slamming together. He kisses me, his forearms on either side of my head, framing me as if I am something beautiful and precious.
"I don't want to hurt you, Magpie…"
"You won't," I whisper. I dig my heels in harder; my pussy is stretched tight and I need Dmitri to move.
His lips twitch and he kisses me, rotating his hips slowly, spreading my thighs wide, making himself at home.
His long fingers reach down to bracket his cock, stroking over my wet lips as his thumb circles my clitoris. Avidly, he watches me.
"So fucking beautiful," he growls. "Inside and out. Every bit of you." He murmurs more words in Russian, deep and guttural, so sexy.
"What did you say?" I gasp.
"I said that you are perfection." His hips speed up, jolting me against the slick mat.
"You're sweet. Your tender, tight cunt holding me like you want to keep me inside you.
" He slings one of my legs over his shoulder and then the other and impossibly, improbably, he goes deeper, chuckling a little breathlessly.
"There's not any more room," I wheeze. "That's it."
"We'll see," he grunts and starts thrusting again. I can hear the embarrassing squelch as his hips slap against mine, how slick and wet we are together. "You want to come, don't you?" He kisses me. "I can feel your pussy tighten down on me."
His cock is swelling inside me and I know he's just as close and I laugh wildly, biting his lip as I give into the feel of pleasure so intense that it surges up my spine and down again.
His eyes widen, he pulls his cock from me, coming on my stomach, his thumb still circling my clitoris, drawing out my orgasm.
It's so quiet, just the sound of our breathing, shared between us with kisses.
His warm fingers rub his come into my skin like its lotion, his cock dangling between his legs, still improbably thick and dripping from me. I feel boneless, weightless and he pulls up his sweats before dressing me.
"I'm sorry," he says, "I've never had sex without a condom, and to not think of it with you…" Dmitri does look genuinely regretful, which worries me.
"Do you mean, you're sorry we had sex or sorry that you didn't wear a condom, or?"
"The latter." He kisses me, slowly, thoroughly. "I will never be regretful about fucking you. It is my job, however, to protect you, and I did not. Should I have a Plan B pill delivered?"
"You pulled out." I can feel the stickiness of him on my stomach, still warm and oddly erotic. "I'm not on birth control because… well. I've had a bit of a dry spell."
"Being inside you bare?" He bites my earlobe, leaning in close. "I haven't come that hard in years.
"Your dick is like Mt. Everest." Oh, god. I'm rambling.
"It's what?" Dmitri laughs.
"Like, you're sure it's going to kill you, but you can't help wanting to climb it anyway."
"Sleepy, post coital Ava is a lot of fun," he says, settling me against him. "Did I hurt you? I should have gone slower for our first time."
"So, most men who say lines like that?" I say, "I suspect they secretly hope that their cock is of such a massive size that it would hurt. Sadly, those types of men tend to be woefully underequipped."
Dmitri draws back, his jaw tight. "Are you serious? I'll need a list. I'm going to find these fucks and skin them alive."
"Oh, just kill me now!" I'm horrified. "I swear I did not plan to say that out loud. Please! Forget I said it." He's poised over me, eyes dark and I draw my legs up, wrapping them around his narrow hips. "Please. I didn't mean me. Other women have mentioned this."
Why do I say these things?
For a moment, it looks like Dmitri's ready to leave me to go on his murderous search before he huffs out a sigh, kissing me again. "Come to bed."
"You might have to drag me," I say with a weak chuckle. He sweeps me up easily in his arms, carrying me past my guest room and down the hall to the master. The room is dominated by his enormous bed, the charcoal gray blankets and pristine white bedding.
I groan at the feel of the silky sheets, the mattress that feels like I'm floating.
"I haven't felt anything this sublime since I stayed at a fancy hotel for a medical conference," I mumble.
"That was the first time I realized how the other half lives, with a mattress so spectacular that it feels like you're being caressed by a thousand tiny angel's wings. "
"Angel's wings, hmm?" Dmitri gently runs a wet washcloth across my stomach, between my legs. "You're going to appreciate that when you realize how sore you are. That was a hell of a workout."
"Which part?" I yawn.
"All of it, sweet magpie." He clicks a remote and charcoal, gray curtains sweep across the windows, settling the room into twilight and crawls in bed with me. "Sleep for a minute," he says.
"Just for a minute," I agree, drowsy, surrounded by the comforting warmth of his body.
***
It's not a dream exactly.
Just a voice, bubbling up from the murky tar of my damaged memory. "Shut the fuck up!" A man is shouting, distant, like he's down the hall. "I do everything for you. You should be grateful!"
"Please…" A woman's voice, terrified. "Please, I won't tell anyone."
I bolt upright, shuddering, pulling the sheet up when I realize I'm naked.
"Hey," Dmitri's voice, his warm hand is on my back, grounding me. "You're safe, you're here with me. I have you. Was it a nightmare?" He settles me so that I'm leaning against his chest and puts his arms around me. He rocks me slowly, waiting for me to be able to speak.
My hands are shaking, pulse galloping, and it takes me a few breaths to calm down. "Not a nightmare exactly," I say, hating how weak my voice sounds, how fragile.
I'm not fucking fragile.
"I heard voices when the apartment door was open once.
Another door must have been opened down the hall.
I heard a guy shouting at someone to shut the fuck up and that he did everything for her.
" Dmitri's arms tighten slightly. "I think it's related because I heard the girl say, 'I won't tell anyone, just let me go. '"
His warm chest turns to granite, but his voice is still calm. "Good girl," he says. "I'll have Roman and Kolya run an electrical scan on the apartments on the tenth floor. Do you think you could recognize the voice if you heard it again?"
"I think so. He sounded whiny, entitled. There's a certain tone men like that have."
Dmitri runs his knuckles lightly up and down my arm, just listening. "It must be difficult," he says gently. "Part of you hoping you never have to remember and the other part trying so hard to recall."
"It'll be worth it," I say, nodding firmly. "I just… I just need to get the rest of the pieces put together."
Dmitri drops a kiss on the top of my head, before getting a glass of water from the kitchen for me. "No ice," he says. "The way you like it."
"You noticed that I hate ice?" I force myself to laugh a little, trying to lighten the mood.
"And you prefer tap water," he says, pretending to shudder elaborately.
"Yes," I agree. "I'm a savage."
I drink my tap water without ice and he wraps me back up in his arms, turning off the light.
"Don't even think of suggesting that you go back to the guest bedroom," he says, his voice muffled in my hair.
I should. I should set a boundary here. But he's warm and my skin feels so thin, like I can't hold everything inside me and his arms are keeping me from exploding into a million pieces. So, I snuggle deeper against his chest, close my eyes, and sleep a dreamless sleep.