Chapter 5 #2
He parts my legs wider, supporting my trembling thighs with his shoulders.
His tongue slides inside me, and my heart is doing things that I’m positive aren’t healthy.
But I’m powerless to regulate it. My orgasm is already swirling around my core and hurtling headfirst towards my sex, and I don’t want it to be over before it has even started.
“Hold it there, baby.” Andrej slides his tongue out of me, and it’s like stopping halfway along the downward slope of a roller coaster.
His face reappears in front of me, and I can taste myself on his tongue, and who knew it would taste this good. He slides a finger inside me while I’m still exploring my own juices, and I feel my walls clenching around him.
“You’re not trying to push me out, are you?” He slides a second finger inside me at the same time, and whatever response I was trying to form evaporates into thin air. He probes and stretches, his knuckles sending ripples through my body. “How does that feel?”
“Good.” It’s all I can think about. I wouldn’t even care right now if there was a whole crowd of people watching us from the opposite riverbank.
“Good?” His fingers settle inside me like they’re getting cozy, and he rests one hand against the wall behind my head. “You can do better than that.”
“I want more.” Did I just say that?
“You only had to ask, baby.” He parts my lips and sucks on my tongue. “More of what?”
“More of you.”
“Talk to me, Cartier. How can I give you pleasure if you won’t tell me what you want?”
Where do the heroines of romance novels learn to talk dirty? Is it all in their head just waiting to be unleashed? Or do they make it up as they go?
Deep shaky breath. “I want your tongue.”
Andrej’s smile reaches his dark eyes and sets my core on fire. “My beautiful sexy girl. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
On his knees, he licks my folds while he slides his fingers in and out of me. Slowly at first, and then moving faster, harder, his tongue flicking back and forth over my clit. Then he grips my thighs so hard, I swear I can feel the bruises forming.
My orgasm is done being patient. Especially when Andrej starts sucking on my clit, nibbling, sucking, licking until I can no longer feel my legs.
Pleasure rips through me. My entire body convulses with the explosion of my orgasm, and still he doesn’t stop. He keeps right on sucking on my clit until I cry out, “Andrej!” without even knowing what I want him to do.
I lose track of time. Moments. Minutes. Eons.
How is it even possible to lose time this way, to lose all control of my body and hand it over willingly to a guy I barely know? All because his tongue is making me feel like this is what I was made for.
When he finally releases me and stands up, supporting my limp body with his arms, I’m struggling to remember my own name.
“Baby, I could spend the rest of my life making you come like that, and I’d die happy.”
“Andrej…”
“I’m right here, beautiful lady.”
I smile. “I believe you promised to fuck me in every way imaginable.”
He kisses me long and hard. “You’re damned right I did, and I told you that I always keep a promise.”
Andrej lives in a condo tower somewhere in the city.
I don’t pay attention. I’m too far down the rabbit hole of pleasure that he started when he unzipped my pants to remind myself that he could be a serial killer who lures his victims back to his apartment by licking them half to death.
That’s for horror movies. At least, that’s what my pussy is telling me as the car pulls into a reserved bay inside an underground parking lot.
He holds my hand as we enter the private elevator.
The instant the door closes behind us, shutting us in with the smooth motion and the numbers climbing up the digital display, and the stark lights, he starts undressing me. My sweater comes off first, closely followed by my bra. I step out of my boots and pants, feeling small suddenly.
But Andrej’s mouth closing around my nipple shatters any fear that had accompanied me in the backseat of the chauffeur-driven vehicle.
The door slides open behind him, and he pulls me with him into a foyer that is bigger than the entire apartment that I share with Mika. I spot the wall of windows, the twinkling Chicago lights in the background, before he unzips his pants and drops them.
His cock springs free, and I blink it into focus.
That’s never going to fit inside me.
“It’s all yours, Cartier.”
That’s what worries me.
He places his hand on the top of my head like I’m the criminal and he’s the cop helping me into the police vehicle and pushes me onto my knees in front of him.
He wipes the slick end of his cock across my lips. “I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I first saw you.”
“I…” I curl my fingers around his erection and peer up at him. “I’ve never done this before.” Only in my dreams, but I’m not about to admit that.
His eyes twitch. I half expect him to laugh and say, “Very funny,” but then he unfurls my fingers from around him and leads me down the steps and into the living room. Three huge squashy sofas are placed around a heavy marble coffee table facing the spectacular view of the city.
I sit down, feeling vulnerable now that I’m completely naked in a stranger’s penthouse apartment. He already fucked you with his tongue outside a warehouse by the river, the voice of reason says inside my head.
But that was different. This is way more intimate. I’ve known him for less than twenty-four hours, and he has already seen every part of me.
“Lay down, Cartier.” His voice is thick with emotion.
I do as I’m told and recline on the nearest sofa. I’m unsure what to do with my hands, so I leave them by my sides.
Andrej removes his clothes and stretches out beside me, sliding one hand underneath my shoulders.
With his other hand, he strokes my breasts, circling my nipples with his fingertips, studying my body’s reaction to his touch, his expression unreadable.
His fingers trail down to the mound of my pussy, stroking gently, before dipping between my legs and out again.
“Did no one ever tell you how fucking sexy you are?” His gaze is so intense that heat rushes to my cheeks.
“No.” If they had, I wouldn’t have believed them.
“Their loss. You believe me, don’t you?” he asks as if he read my mind.
“I guess.”
His eyes flash. “There’s no fucking guessing about it. You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.” He nods to reiterate the point, and I smile. “Tell me, baby. Tell me that you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”
“I’m the sexiest woman you’ve ever met.”
“Now, you’d better start believing it.” He kisses me, his tongue flicking in and out of my mouth. “Have you ever been fucked?”
I’ve often thought about how my first experience would go.
I imagined it would happen in a gigantic bed surrounded by sheer voile drapes billowing in the breeze from the open patio doors overlooking the azure sea.
Or there were other settings inside my head depending on the time of day I finished reading a novel and my mental exhaustion levels.
In a water hut in the Maldives, the ocean lapping at the wooden steps.
Nesting in a pile of furry blankets while the world outside turned white.
In a luxury hotel room overlooking the Seine in Paris with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on the nightstand.
Romantic. Special. None of my dreams ever featured a penthouse apartment in Chicago. And never once did I consider that I’d experience a moment of excruciating embarrassment at being a twenty-three-year-old virgin.
Winging it went out the window the moment I saw his erection.
I swallow hard. “No.”
This is it, I think. This is the moment when Andrej Ivanov, professional playboy and ultimate bad boy with the scar to prove it, tells me that he didn’t sign up to teach me the ropes. No matter how enjoyable they might be.
Frown lines appear between his eyebrows. “What were you waiting for?”
I’ve been asking myself the same question.
But when I peer into his amber eyes with the delicate strands of black like a web of darkness woven through the color, I realize that the answer is staring me right in the face.
The views might’ve varied, but the common denominator throughout my dreams and fantasies was that I would know the right man when I met him.
“You.”
I cup his face with my hands and kiss him.
“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Cartier,” Andrej murmurs, his breath hot against my lips, “but you’re mine now.”
He takes my hand and places it over my sex.
“Make yourself come for me.”
“I…”
“Don’t go shy on me now, baby. I bet you’ve done it a thousand times alone in your bed while you manifested me into your life.”
Am I that transparent?
I flop my knees apart and slide a finger inside me. My clit is swollen and tender from when he sucked it behind the warehouse, but I hear the squelch of slick as I slide my finger all the way.
“What do you feel?”
“It’s wet. And warm. And tight.” To answer the question, I find myself exploring my sex in a way that I’ve never thought about before.
“Put another finger in.”
I do as I’m told.
“Keep going.”
I add a third finger, but the angle is awkward, so I try sitting up a little. Andrej sits behind me, his cock nudging the bottom of my spine, and slides his left leg around me so that I’m sitting between his legs.
“You can get your fist in there, baby, I know you can.”
I spread my legs wider and squash my fingers together. “There’s no way my thumb is going in there.”
“If you don’t do it, I will.” He pulls my shoulders back against him, tilts my face to meet his, and kisses me long and slow, stroking my neck with his hand. “Do it, Cartier. Stretch yourself for me, baby. Use your other hand.”
Andrej grips my neck a little tighter and fills my mouth with his tongue. I slide the middle finger of my left hand in, aware of his steady heartbeat against my back.
“Now make yourself come.” He gives orders like a man who is accustomed to being obeyed, and I don’t even question it.
I slide my fingers in and out and rub my tender clit with my thumb. My earlier orgasm hasn’t gone anywhere; it’s been loitering underneath the surface, waiting for a chance to perform again.
Andrej’s free hand crushes my breasts. He pinches my nipples, teasing them into hot, hard points. “What do you think about when you make yourself come, baby?”
“I…” Jeez, this isn’t something I’ve ever told anyone before. Not even Mika, and she is so demanding that she could get information out of a shriveled prune.
“Tell me, or I’ll flip you over and fuck your ass before you can blink.”
Maybe that shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, considering I’ve seen the size of his erection and low-key freaked out over putting it in my mouth. But the tingling in my core swells to a piano-concerto-worthy crescendo, and I instinctively rub my juices over my clit with my thumb.
“I’m in a nightclub. Not a specific one, but it’s filled with people, and there are half-naked women cutting themselves in half on poles. I’m walking through the crowd naked, apart from a pair of white rhinestone-studded cowboy boots.”
“Nice touch.” At the mention of the boots, Andrej’s erection comes a-knock-knocking against my spine.
“I climb onto a raised podium, and I start dancing.”
“Go on.”
“That’s it.” I stop working my clit, and Andrej takes over.
The effect is instantaneous. My orgasm flares to life. I’m panting against his lips and trying to wriggle free of his hand still on my neck.
“I-I’m going to come, Andrej.”
“No, you’re not.” He is adamant. He raises my left knee over the back of the sofa while squeezing his middle finger inside me and softening my clit at the same time. “You’re going to hold it in until I say that you can come.”
“I can’t.” My breaths are shallow, and it isn’t solely down to what his hands are doing to me.
“Which part of your fantasy turns you on the most?”
“Why?” I try to focus on the conversation and not on the crowd of fingers rioting inside my pussy. “It’ll never happen.”
“You’re sure about that, are you?” I don’t answer, so he continues, “Which part?”
“The part where someone joins me on the podium.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. I never see his face.”
“Would you dance naked with me, Cartier?”
“Yes.” Breathless.
“Right answer.” He crushes my lips with his mouth. “If anyone else even tried to get close to you, they wouldn’t survive till closing time.”
I sink against him, losing myself in his suffocating kiss, and our fingers combined inside me. My orgasm has obviously learned to follow orders too. It’s right there, backstage, waiting for its turn to take the spotlight.
His tongue leaves my mouth long enough for him to murmur, “Now.”
I rub my clit frantically, and my orgasm responds with bone-shaking convulsions that rip through my body, pushing my pelvis deeper onto our fingers.
“That’s it, baby. I want to see you dance all night.”