by Julia Sykes
He returned my smile, and I was relieved when the spark of interest returned to his eyes. “What do you plan to do with your degree?”
“I want to teach high school Literature,” I said with unconcealed enthusiasm. “I’m going to get my Masters after I finish undergrad.”
He reached out and traced the outline of my smile with his forefinger, as though studying the physical sign of my joy. My breath hitched at his touch, and the stream of words dropping from my tongue stopped immediately. He leaned into me slowly, his hand sliding up to cup the nape of my neck. He stopped mere millimeters from my mouth.
“You are a very passionate woman, Alicia,” he said in a low rumble. “I like that.”
He lingered there for agonizingly long moments. Then his lips curved up in his signature smirk, and he pulled away from me. To my embarrassment, I followed him as though drawn by a magnet. He cupped my jaw gently and held me away from him.
“We’re here,” he informed me softly.
What? Oh. Dinner.
Doing my best to ignore his dark chuckle, I jerked back from him and fumbled at the door handle.
His fingers closed around my wrist, stilling my movements. I barely suppressed a shiver at the sensation of his strong hands on me. Our connection was as potent as it had been that first night at the club.
“Wait.”
I complied with his order, leaning back in my seat. He got out on his side, and my door opened seconds later. His amused smile lingered as he held out a hand to help me out. I needed the support. After our almost-kiss, just that brief touch made my knees weak.
“Thank you,” I murmured, trying my best not to shudder pleasurably when he touched his hand to the small of my back to guide me into the restaurant. The place was beautiful, with hand-painted floral motifs decorating the walls and softly glowing red chandeliers suspended from the ceiling.
But all I could focus on was Dimitri’s dark perfection.
When the waiter came, Dimitri ordered for both of us in Russian. The cuisine was local and unlike anything I had experienced before. Even though I only vaguely recognized the dishes they served us, each one was delicious.
Throughout dinner, Dimitri peppered me with questions about my life on the farm and my favorite books. He seemed genuinely captivated by everything I had to say. My questions about him were mostly deflected, but he did it so smoothly that I barely noticed.
And all the while, the sexual tension he had ignited between us in the car heated the air around me, pulsing against my skin. With each course, his eyes deepened with hunger, and my own appetite craved something more than food.
Dimitri didn’t even look at the waiter when he brought the bill; he simply placed a stack of bills on the table and stood. He immediately took my hand in his and began leading me out of the restaurant at a pace that was faster than absolutely necessary.
I followed, all of my focus honed on him as we hurried to the car. As soon as the door closed behind me, Dimitri’s fingers tangled in my hair, and he pulled me in for a merciless kiss. I fell into him, my hands bracing against his chest. I moaned at the feel of his hard muscles, and my touch began roving over his torso, exploring his chiseled body through his shirt.
Nothing about the way his lips moved against mine was at all refined or practiced. He plundered my mouth with raw passion, and I responded in kind. His tongue moved against mine, and something coiled deep within me, building a steady tension at my core. I couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like for him to fill me like that in other, more forbidden places, stroking in and out…
I forced myself to pull away before my desire could overtake me completely. He maintained his grip on my hair, barely giving me an inch of space between us.
“What’s wrong?” He breathed across my lips.
“I can’t do this,” I panted. “I won’t have sex with you.”
“We’re not having sex,” he pointed out, his voice heavy with lust. His cheek slid along mine, and his tongue traced the shell of my ear. “But I know you want to.” He nipped at my lobe, and my fingers curled into his muscular arms as pleasure shot through me. “Just let yourself feel what’s between us.”
His words slithered through my mind with insidious intent, tempting me to sin.
“I can’t,” I managed to whisper.
He pulled back just far enough so he could fix me with an earnest gaze. “I won’t think less of you. And this won’t be a one-night stand. I want to see you again.”
“I want to see you too. But not like this. I need to be fair to you and make it clear that this will never happen. I…” I stumbled over the admission. “I’m waiting for marriage.”
Confusion flickered across his dark eyes. “Waiting?”
My cheeks burned. He didn’t understand the phrase. “I’m a virgin,” I managed to mumble.
His long lashes brushed his heavy brows as his eyes widened. I squirmed in the face of his stunned silence, but his fist immediately tightened in my hair, stilling the sign of my growing discomfiture.
“You are a very special woman, Alicia.”
He pressed his lips to mine before I could formulate a response. He was gentler this time, his mouth caressing rather than devouring. Other than his almost harsh grip on my hair, he kissed me tenderly, as though I was something fragile and precious.
I melted for him under his reverential treatment, forgetting my unease. His fingers gently stroked my thighs, slowly sliding the silky material of my dress further up my legs.
I stiffened, but I couldn’t bring myself to show any other sign of physical resistance. “Please don’t.” All I could do was beg against his lips. I felt them curve up in his amused smile.
“We’re not going to have sex,” he assured me softly. “But I am going to touch you. You will enjoy it.”
He wasn’t asking for permission. His hand slid to my inner thigh, stopping to tease at the edge of my cotton panties.
I didn’t make a move to stop him. Fierce yearning rose up in me, and it was all I could do to stop myself from rocking my hips against him. My clit pulsed in painful time with my racing heartbeat, and I felt my underwear growing strangely wet.
Two thick fingers brushed across my aching bud, and a sharp cry of pleasure shot up my throat.
“Please…” I wasn’t sure what mercy I was pleading for. Did I want him to stop or continue?
“Has a man ever touched you like this?” He asked roughly. “Has a man ever brought you to orgasm?”
“N-no,” I forced out on a sharp exhale. “I’ve never felt…” I couldn’t find the words to describe what he was doing to my body. I hadn’t thought pleasure like this was possible. Surely it would burn me up from the inside out.
His eyes flared with understanding. “You’ve never had an orgasm. Have you?”
His fingers brushed against me in another maddening pass.
“No!” I cried out. “I’ve never… Please…”
If my brain had been working, I would have been mortified at my behavior. But all I could think about was Dimitri: the feel of his strength surrounding me; the controlled torture of his gentle touches; his heady, masculine scent mingling with the smell of my own arousal.
“Look at me,” he commanded. “I want to watch you come.”
His hungry black stare and lustful words were almost enough to make me come undone. I stopped breathing when his intense eyes fixed me in place, holding me in the moment with almost painfully sharp focus. His thumb came down on my clit, rubbing through my underwear in a demanding circular motion. My lashes fluttered as my eyes threatened to roll back in my head, but a low growl from him was enough to keep me locked in his eyes. Ecstasy exploded through me, starting at that small bundle of nerves and racing outward in a shockwave of pleasure that made my fingers and toes curl. My scream filled the car, dancing with his soft, satisfied laugh. Somehow, his arrogant pleasure only increased my own bliss, and my entire body shuddered in his grip.
He didn’t withdraw his han
d until his touch on my clit began to sting. He kissed me, slow and deep, and I sagged against him with a mindless moan. I felt weightless, as though Dimitri’s hold on me was the only thing tethering me to the earth. While I was in his arms, I forgot all my concerns about my chastity; I forgot myself entirely. All that mattered was the connection we shared and the perfect bliss I felt whenever I was with him.
Chapter 5
One Week Later
“I have something for you,” Dimitri said, a bit breathless from our steamy kiss.
We were making out in the back seat of his car again – the only private space available to us since I wouldn’t agree to go home with him. He promised we didn’t have to have sex at his place, but I didn’t trust myself. The car at least gave a semblance of being in public, and I most definitely couldn’t allow him to undress me under those circumstances. No matter how badly I was tempted.
As it was, his touches through my clothes were enough to bring me ecstasy every time. After that first orgasm, I was powerless to resist the allure of the mind-blowing pleasure only he could give me.
The long, thick bulge in his pants told me he wanted me to touch him as well, but he never pressed me to do so. His respect for my boundaries only made me that much more enamored with him.
And now he had bought me a present. I could hardly believe how tender and generous he was with me.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I said softly. He did so much for me, and I didn’t give nearly enough back to him.
He gave me a crooked smile. “I wanted to.”
He reached into a compartment on the inside of the car door and pulled out a beautifully wrapped present. He pressed it into my hands.
“Open it,” he prompted when I hesitated.
I hated to untie the elaborate blue bow and tear the pristine white paper, but I complied with his order. I had become accustomed to doing so over the last week. It no longer registered when he issued a command; it was just part of his personality, and I accepted that.
I gasped when the gift was revealed. I held it gingerly, almost scared to mar it with the oils on my fingers. Although I couldn’t read the title, I suspected what it was.
“It’s the first edition of Pride and Prejudice in Russian,” he informed me casually. “I thought you could learn the language better reading it than your textbooks.”
I couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat. No one had ever given me such a thoughtful gift.
“Don’t you like it?” He asked after a moment of silence. It was one of the only times I had ever detected uncertainty in his voice. My reaction was clearly very important to him.
I looked up at him with shining eyes. “I love it,” I said raggedly. “Thank you.”
His response was a dazzling grin, and I could see the relief in his eyes. He truly cared about me.
“I think… I think I’d like to go back to your place,” I said quietly.
His expression turned serious, and his gaze searched mine. “Are you sure?”
“I trust you not to push me to go farther than I’m comfortable with.”
“I won’t,” he swore. “I want you to trust me, Alicia.”
“I do.”
He pressed a quick kiss to my lips and then pulled out his phone to summon his driver. The man always made himself scarce until Dimitri called for him, giving us privacy in the car.
Soon, we wouldn’t need to worry about privacy. I would be completely alone with Dimitri. My stomach knotted in nervous anticipation.
He gently pried apart my wringing hands, holding them in his warm, reassuring grip. I fell into the feel of him, finding comfort in his strength. I trusted him to be strong enough for both of us, to prevent me from doing something I might regret.
He drowned me with his kiss, and I was hardly aware of the time it took us to travel from outside the restaurant where we had dinner to his apartment.
Well, it wasn’t exactly an apartment. Dimitri lived in a hotel suite. He had mentioned a home outside town, but this was where he stayed when he was in the city.
Given his ostentatious wealth, I shouldn’t have been shocked by the opulence of the hotel. Nevertheless, I still found myself gaping when we entered his suite. The cream colored walls were gilded with decorative gold scrollwork that extended up from the corners of the room to frame the ceiling, which was painted to mirror a perfect blue sky with wispy clouds.
I was so busy gawking that I didn’t notice the man seated on the settee until he spoke in harsh Russian. With a jolt, my gaze found the speaker. He looked jarringly like Dimitri, only his lips were thinner and his features were creased with age. The square jaw and long lashed, bottomless black eyes were identical, though. There was no mistaking the relation between the two men.
The older man’s dark gaze raked down my body, and he sneered before speaking again. I didn’t understand a word, but Dimitri’s answer was harsh with irritation.
The man responded by standing quickly and closing the distance between us in a few long strides. He was in my personal space before I could even think to take a hasty step back. Long fingers – so like Dimitri’s – suddenly gripped my jaw. His eyes made a slow, contemptuous inspection of my face, and I was struck by the sensation that he wasn’t really seeing me. It was as though I was being taken apart, each feature being examined one by one as he appraised me.
What felt like an hour lasted only seconds before Dimitri’s hand closed around the man’s wrist, applying pressure until he was forced to release my jaw. I sucked in a gasp and backed away quickly. Dimitri let go of the man so he could wrap his arm around my waist, holding me possessively. He barked something else in Russian. I hated not understanding the exchange, especially when the tense confrontation seemed to center around me.
The older man scowled and issued something clipped that sounded like a warning. With one final disdainful glance at me, he brushed past us and stormed out of the room.
My trembling began simultaneously with the door slamming. The spots where his fingertips had clutched my jaw pulsed ice cold, sending frigid waves racing across my skin. My body recognized the danger I had just faced, even if my mind didn’t fully comprehend what had happened.
Dimitri pulled me into his arms, and his familiar heat helped chase some of the cold away.
“I’m sorry, myshka,” he murmured, cupping my cheek in his large hand. “You are safe. Don’t be scared.” His obvious concern made me relax further, and my trembling stopped.
“Who…” I swallowed down my residual fear. “Who was that? What did he want?”
Dimitri’s expression tightened. “My father. He’s angry with me.”
“Why?” That didn’t explain why he had seemed so disgusted by me.
“I’ve been neglecting my work. He doesn’t like that I’m spending so much time with you.”
“Oh,” I said softly, guilt teasing at the corners of my mind. I didn’t want to be the cause of tension between Dimitri and his dad. “You’re in business together?”
Dimitri had never talked about having a job before, and I assumed he just lived off his family’s money. Whatever he did, he must keep very irregular hours.
“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice tight.
“What is it that you do?” I pressed, curious.
He pulled away slightly, his expressive eyes going flat. “We have a family business. My father has raised me to take over one day. That is why he’s so angry with me. He has certain expectations of my behavior.”
He hadn’t really answered my question, but I didn’t get the chance to ask him anything else. His lips came down on mine, silencing me. After a few moments, I forgot I had meant to ask him anything at all. My arms twined around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He responded by curving his fingers into my waist, as though he couldn’t hold me tightly enough.
Even though I was still shaken by the confrontation, I felt closer to Dimitri than ever. Witnessing the tension between him and his father was the first gl
impse I had gotten into his life outside of the time we spent together. I had seen one of his secrets, and although it had been frightening, I now knew him better. He wasn’t just some spoiled rich boy. He worked for his domineering father. That must be difficult for him, but he hid it well. I craved to learn more, but now wasn’t the time. All I wanted was to throw myself into the passion between us, to give him solace in my arms.
Dimitri’s fingers teased at my thighs, lifting the hem of my short red sundress. I started to push him away when he reached my hips, and he stilled his progress.
“I want to see you,” he said against my lips.
I hesitated, fiddling with the top button of his shirt. I had felt his defined muscles through his clothes, and I longed to look at him as well. My decision made, I nodded and undid his first button as a means of silently inviting him to continue peeling off my dress.
He finished before I did, pulling my dress smoothly over my head, leaving me standing in my nude-colored strapless bra and pale blue cotton underwear. My skin flushed pink as he inspected me, a small smile curving up one side of his mouth. I didn’t own any sexy lingerie, but I longed for it in that moment. Suddenly self-conscious, I pulled my hands from his shirt and crossed my arms over my chest in an effort to cover myself.
His smile warmed from mocking to doting, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead as he gently pried my arms away from my body.
“Let me see you,” he urged quietly, reaching around me to unhook my bra in one deft motion. It fell to the floor, baring my breasts to him. He was the first man who had ever seen them.
I tried to cover myself again, and he caught my wrists in one large hand, pinning them behind my back. With his other, he traced the undersides of my naked breasts, as though exploring the shape and weight of them. My blush turned a deeper red, and I tried to squirm away. He wedged his thigh between mine and pulled me against him by applying pressure on my wrists at my back, effectively trapping me in place.