Chapter 51 - Lev
LEV
After getting with Serafina, a few fantasies formed in my mind.
This is one of them.
Usually, I’m particular when playing games. Or, when at my desk, working. Or doing anything of substance. But my curious little mystery in human form is allowed to interrupt me. I dreamed the next time she did, I’d have her on this desk, one way or the other.
As her fingers messily control the keys, her skills start increasing, and her virtual death happens less frequently. Over her shoulder, I watch as an enemy lunges from behind the wall for her character.
“Pay attention. He almost got the edge over you.”
She takes her character around a corner, rifle scanning the next room. While she’s searching the game, my hand shifts to her heat, where my thumb presses against her clit, well aware the sensitive bud never fails to make her react.
I like her reactions. They ease my head.
Right on cue, her lips part on a low gasp, hands momentarily pausing on the keyboard. My goal is to rob her of focus, her control, exactly as she’s done every minute since entering my life, to the point that she loses the game.
When she loses, I’ll win.
I play with her languidly, circling my thumb over her clit. “Go right,” I instruct in her ear, my knowledge of this level urging me to assist. “There’s a room where enemies will charge.”
She turns her character into the direction I’ve indicated and quickly shoots the two NPCs. I reward her by gliding my index finger faster, gathering her wetness to act as lube. Her breathing spikes, her arm twitching, but she manages to keep playing.
“You’re close to winning this round.”
“It’ll be my first,” she breathes, squirming on my lap as my finger ever-so-slowly dips inside her. “I suck at this game.”
I tsk by her ear. “Suck isn’t the term I’d use. You’re learning, Fina, and quite aptly too. Proud of you.” Pride is a weird thing to feel for another person. When Anastasia or Vanessa takes someone down, it’s not pride I feel, only relief they’re still intact. Why be proud of someone else’s skills?
But Serafina makes me very fucking proud.
She shivers, her grip on the keyboard faltering before her eyes snap back to attention and she regains control of the game.
I push in deeper, going as far as the angle and the restriction of her clothing allows.
My finger curls in whatever direction it can, her pussy clamping with wetness.
Her breathing quickens. She’s constantly shifting, my cock hardening beneath her ass.
It doesn’t mind we’re doing this in a place meant for work.
If she comes in the next thirty seconds—a timeline I don’t give her aloud—I’ll fuck her. Call it a personal challenge. Numbers always ease me, and once again, they’re about to make everything feel remotely okay.
She takes out another two NPCs before getting hit, quickly tapping the key required to regenerate health, and then shoots the final few enemies before the screen flashes, declaring her a winner.
Twenty…nineteen…
“Yes!” Her ass does this tempting little wiggle with her cheer, and then she gives a sharp gasp when she changes where my finger presses.
“You did good. You’re getting better.”
“Not as good as you.”
“I’ve had practice. You need more.” Emphasizing the final word, I push a bit harder into her, not so gentle anymore.
I’m on a timeline, after all.
Fifteen…fourteen…
“Start another round.”
She obeys instantly, and I reward her with another finger, her pussy clamped around my fingers. I slide in and out of her faster, merciless.
Ten…nine…
She gasps, rotating her hips on my hand, chasing the thrill. “Lev…”
“Play.” I nip my teeth against her shoulder, slowing until she obeys.
Six…five…
I push harder, faster, curling my fingers until finding that delicious spot that makes her—
“Lev!” Her hands slide from keyboard, and her character is instantly riddled with bullets.
With three seconds remaining.
“Keep playing,” I murmur, slowing my fingers to draw out her orgasm. Heat floods my hand, a feeling I’ll never tire of. A sensation—a mess—I’ve been finding myself unbothered by.
She obeys, but her gameplay worsens as her body decompresses in a happy little sigh. “That was intense.”
“It’s only the beginning. Stand.” I tap her hip to encourage her up before yanking down her shorts and panties, dropping them to the floor beside me.
“Lev?”
“Don’t turn around. Keep playing. I want you to win this round too. Build your stats.”
I undo my jeans, lifting just far enough off the chair to push them down before grasping her hips and pulling her backwards onto me. One hand positions my cock upright, angling as I slide inside her in one, slow move.
“Lev!” she cries again, a sound that’ll never escape these walls, not as long as I have anything to say about it. She spews a bunch of Italian, her moans and screams translating the concept behind them.
Her arms fall limp off the computer desk, control of the level completely disappearing.
Her character is quickly overtaken, and a GAME OVER screen flashes, ending her game for good.
She doesn’t seem to notice, lost as her head falls forward, her grip tight on the desk’s edge, hair curtaining her face.
I let her adjust to the feeling of me inside her.
She’s so tight, warm—pure addiction. Taking her like this…
she’s a goddamn dream I never imagined for myself.
Good things never happen to me because that’s not what Papa decided for my world.
I’ve been a weapon, a resource, useful for as long as I’ve known, and assets don’t have distractions.
She’s my biggest distraction.
Once her breathing evens out, I snake my hand back onto her stomach and haul her upright, changing the angle. She’s tighter like this, and my grip on her hips keeps her in place.
“Play, Fina. Start a new round.”
“L-like this?” Her head turns halfway, catching me in her peripheral, pouty lips parted with desire.
“Yes, like this. Build your kill count. You can do it. I want you to play, printessa, while I fuck your sweet pussy. That sounds alright, doesn’t it?”
Her pupils contract, and she twists around, clicking the screen to begin a new round. She switches weapons, more in tune with the game, and her tenacity makes me smile.
After she takes out one NPC and her focus returns to the game, I move, rocking my hips while lifting her up and down, going as deep as possible, bending her forward ever so slightly so her clit gets friction.
She gasps but keeps going, and for every person she kills, she earns another thrust. Five kills later, her thighs shake.
She begins bouncing, chasing her own high.
She’s needy, and I let her control the speed and depth as my hands slide around her hips and pry her thighs open, hooking each over my legs before I return to that swollen little clit of hers.
She curses in Italian. “L-Lev, I-I can’t do this. Not like this.”
Another rock deeper into her, reclaiming control for the moment. “Sure, you can. Win this round, and I’ll let you come.”
“Win? And if I lose?”
“Don’t.”
I pinch her clit and thrust into her, her head falling back. Her character gets shot, but she regenerates before long. With my free hand, I gather her hair to force her head straight and onto the screen.
“Look away, you’ll lose. And then you won’t come. You don’t want that. You want to come, right?”
“Y-yeah.” She quivers but resumes playing, managing the next few kills as I maintain a steady pace inside her.
She’s so fucking warm and right, and it’s in this moment that I realize I’ve never been happier. Playing games, having her with me—on me—in my place of silence while she creates more silence in my head.
It’s what I want for the rest of our lives.
“You’re close.” In more than one way. “A few more kills, and then you can come.”
She shudders. “I-I can’t hold on.”
“You can.” I pinch her clit until she gasps, one of her hands slapping the desk in response. I lift her almost all the way off my cock before pulling her back down. Her insides drag blissfully. “You’re nearly done.”
Her fingers smash the keyboard faster, harder, her determination to finish the level chaotic but effective gameplay. I lift her up and shove her down, matching my speed to her kills. Her cries grow louder, my grip on her hair the only reason she’s still facing the screen.
At last, she’s declared the winner by the game and beats her earlier record. She sighs with anticipation.
And me? I growl with pleasure, lifting her off me, turning to rest her ass on the desk. I climb to my feet and thrust back inside her, looping my arms around her thighs and pounding into her hard.
“Feel me rewarding you, printessa. You were so, so good. My perfect little player. Blyat, you have no idea how sexy that was.”
Her head falls back, hair sliding over my keyboard. Her cries get loud enough to be heard above, but I don’t care about the repercussions. Not anymore.
Not when she’s mine like this.
“Feel me inside you? This is all for you. What you’ve turned me into. You’re so close. Let me feel you, printessa. I need it—need you. Need you to calm my mind.”
She comes with a near scream, her head rolling forward until she’s also kissing me. It’s messy, all tongue and teeth, but she’s so fucking delicious. Her pussy clenches me impossibly tight, and I thrust a final time, coming deep inside her.
For a while, I remain, comforted by the place quickly becoming home. When her grip on my shoulders relax, I slide out of her, brushing her cheek to mentally tell her everything my head is too scared to admit aloud.
With a sated smile, she drags her hand through my hair. “I should get cleaned up. Can I come back afterwards?”
“I want you to.”
She grabs her clothing, redresses quickly, and kisses my cheek on her way by.
It’s these memories that’ll come with me to the church in a few days and not the one of her gripping that dress like it’ll bring her death.
Her death.
My death.
Vitale’s death.
At this rate, it’s a gamble.