Chapter 13 #2
And then I’m drowning, dying, finally actually living when his tongue meets my aching, throbbing clit. It feels like the heat of hell and the perfection of heaven all at once. I close my eyes and shiver as waves of pleasure consume me.
He growls and fists his cock, jerking his massive erection as he lazily drags his tongue along my swollen slit. My thoughts fizzle into vapor at the hot feel of his breath on my inner thighs. When his teeth graze my clit, I wriggle my wrists, but a swift slap to my thigh makes me pause.
“I told you what would happen,” he warns. “I’m eating you out, girl, and you’re obeying me. You got me?”
I nod, stifling the need to whimper or smack him. I swallow, my mouth dry. “Mhm.” I nod, eager for him to continue.
And then he’s back at my pussy, worshiping me with his tongue until I feel like I can hardly stand the pleasure. I’ve never come on a man’s face like this, and it somehow both terrifies and thrills me, but I couldn’t stop now if I wanted to.
“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls, pausing to scrape my thighs with his stubble. The prickles feel like a million little needles. He drags his chin just on the very edge of my swollen clit and I scream.
“Atta girl,” he says, his hot breath on my thighs. “That’s what I like to see. You have my permission, my good girl. Come on my mouth, baby. Let yourself go.”
And then he sinks back down to the floor and fists his cock. Somehow, hearing him give me permission makes the first spasm of pleasure course through me, but I’m scared. I hold my breath, unable to move past the need to come and actually allowing myself to get there.
I’ve never had a man bring me to climax before.
I’ve had sex and felt… passing pleasure… but I never felt that earth-shattering, freeing, absolute bliss I’ve read about in those romance novels my sister gave me.
I don’t even know what it’s like. I don’t even know what it is I’m chasing.
I feel so tightly wound I’m a string about to snap, but I can’t seem to get there. Every time I think I’m going to, I can’t seem to get there.
“Come, baby,” he orders. I sniff and shake my head. I didn’t even know I was crying.
Why am I crying?
“Lydia.” My eyes snap to his. “You can come. I gave you permission.”
I sniff hard. “I… I can’t.”
“Of course you can.” he says, lowering his mouth to my pussy again. “Relax, baby. Breathe into it. You need to get out of your head.”
I shake my head. “I can’t, Viktor.”
Staring at me, he finally asks me, “Why not?”
I look away. I don’t know how to answer that question.
Because I’m not worthy? Because I’m not pretty enough? Because letting myself climax means surrendering to him?
All of those things, maybe? I don’t know.
I can’t put it into words.
He strokes my inner thigh. “This is about trust.”
I shake my head. My breath hitches, my anger momentarily ebbing when I see a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “If I didn’t trust you, at least a little, you wouldn’t be kneeling in front of me with your mouth on my pussy.”
“Close your eyes, baby. Breathe with me.”
Hesitantly, I do what he says. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. His voice is a low, somehow soothing command.
“Imagine yourself powerful. Unstoppable. Imagine yourself in control of your body and your life and your happiness. Can you do that, baby?”
I nod, licking my lips and swallowing. My hips jerk when I feel the warm, wet press of his tongue on my clit again. He suckles hard and grips my thighs. My clit throbs.
“Now let yourself go. Let yourself surrender without shame. You deserve to feel pleasure. You deserve to let go.”
I feel his hands on my waist, a grounding touch that somehow makes my reserves crumble.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You can, baby. Imagine yourself surrounded by fire, but this fire isn’t destructive, it’s warm. It’s your safe place. Let it burn away any insecurities and fears you have. Let it consume everything but you.”
I nod.
“Alright,” I whisper as he bends his mouth to my sex and sucks again. A spasm of pleasure lights me up, its warmth and intensity making me squirm in delicious anticipation.
“Let it consume you. Trust in it. Trust in yourself.”
I feel a little of the tension I’m holding onto begin to ebb away. “Good girl. That’s it, Lydia. Let yourself go.”
I close my eyes and breathe. I imagine the room is filled with flames licking at us on all sides but not burning us. There’s something about the flicker and heat that calms me.
He grips my hips, lifts my legs, and straddles them over his shoulders. If I wanted to, I could crush his head with my thighs.
This, too, is an act of trust.
I close my eyes and focus on relaxing. Focus on the sensation. Something shifts in me, and I feel like that match to tinder. My low smolder grows to something more, something hotter, and I know I’ve reached the point of no return when my whole body goes up in flames.
“Oh God,” I scream, “yes!” Pleasure floods my limbs, and I’m totally consumed in the perfect feel of his mouth on my sensitive parts. I moan in pleasure as flames completely consume my body until I finally sink to the bed, spent.
He stands, fists his massive cock, and holds my gaze as he throws his head back and comes. Hot spurts of come paint my breasts, my belly, my thighs as he marks me as his, and for once… for once in my life, I think, he loves my body.
He loves what he sees.
He hasn’t been lying.
He loves my body.
I blink, coming down from my high as he leans over and presses his lips to my cheek. “You’re mine, Lydia,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re mine. Stay right here. I’m going to clean you up.”
The man who spanked me, scratched me with his stubble, and bit my nipples was a different side of Viktor I hadn’t yet seen. He’s been nothing but tender to me, even when I pushed him until he finally snapped.
I stifle a whine when he gets up off the bed and walks to the bathroom.
He comes back later with a small hand towel.
When he wipes me with it, I’m reminded of the hot towels they wrap around my legs when I get pedicures at Mom’s.
It’s warm and damp and feels incredibly soothing, smelling faintly of lavender.
I reach for it to help him, and he shakes his head with one curt nod. “Let me.”
After what he just did to me, I’ve somehow lost the ability to push back. I’m putty in his hands.
“You’d better enjoy this while it lasts,” I say. My voice sounds like it’s distant, out of my body, coming from someone else and not me.
“What?”
“My compliance.”
He grins at me. “Oh, I seem to have figured out a way to deal with this.”
My eyes are heavy and my body boneless as he lays me back on the pillows. “Get some rest, Lydia.”
I close my eyes and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
“You should get out of bed and get ready.”
“Why?”
“It's getting harder and harder to lie next to you and not fuck you,” he says, his teeth gritted together.
I’ve never had this power over anyone before.
“You don't trust yourself with me? That's interesting, isn't it? We should observe this as part of human nature.” I lean over and push myself up on one elbow.
He grunts and makes some sort of sound that is half between a growl and acquiescence before he slaps my ass. I squeal.
“Get dressed.”
“Do you say please, Viktor? Or do you just order people around?”
He quirks one eye open. Last night’s stubble grew to a dark shadow on his chin. I remember that stubble quite well…
In the morning light, I see the silver scar that runs from his forehead down his cheek.
“Let’s try. Please, get ready, my love,” he says in a sappy, unrecognizable voice.
“Before I pin your wrists to this headboard and fuck you.
I don't know how much longer I can last, so I’m warning you.
Stepping away from me would probably be in your best interest. I'm not sure if you remember anything about yesterday, but I only have so much self-control.” His eyes narrow. “Was that better, doll?”
I actually swallow a giggle. “Much.”
Am I letting him get to me? I walk to the bathroom, grab some clothes, and quickly change.
My hair is crazy from the day before, but I'm starving. I blame the adrenaline. So I pin my hair up in this crazy bun on top of my head like a ballerina, wash my face with some of the excellent skincare products Polina picked out, brush my teeth, and slap on some quick makeup.
I chose a little white peasant top that accentuates my curves in all right ways, slimming my waist and accentuating my breasts.
Comfortable, stretchy jeans that are wide and go all the way to the floor.
I'm still wearing these slippers because they're so comfy, but I guess I'll have to wear shoes, too.
Viktor’s changed into gray sweats and a white tee. Hot damn. What is it about a white tee and gray sweats that just do it for me? There's something just… manly and sexy and raw about it. Especially the way he fills those out.
“We have a couple of interesting developments. We’ll talk it out over breakfast.” Frowning, he reaches for my hand. “Did you cut yourself?”
I look down. I think I did it yesterday at the warehouse, but I don't want him to feel bad.
Why? Why the hell do I care whether he feels bad or not? It was his fault that I was at the warehouse.
I shrug. “It’s fine. I don't know how I cut it.”
“Does it hurt?” he asks in a gentle voice that makes a lump rise in my throat.
I swallow it hard. God, I'm fucked up.
“No, it's fine,” I lie. Because when he brushes the top of his finger against it, I wilt.
“Liar,” he says, his tone rough. “Sit on the bed.”
He stalks off barefoot to the bathroom and comes back with a Band-Aid and some type of cleansing wipe.
“Viktor, I'm fine,” I say. Jesus, what would he do if I actually hurt myself? This is practically a paper cut.
Quietly, he bends on one knee, reaches for my hand and frowns, his eyebrows flashing together as he cleans little cuts on my skin before he opens the Band-Aid carefully and slides it on my hand. When he's done, he crumples the papers and lifts my hand to his lips.
But he doesn’t stop there.