“Because you scare me!” she shouted at him, not caring that he could have heard her if she’d only breathed the words. He was that close. But she was crying, and her own fear made her angry.
She opened her eyes and turned her head to glare at him, ignoring the tears that clumped her lashes and blurred her vision.
“Do you want to hear me say it, Misha?” she demanded. “Fine, I’ll say it. I’m chickening out. I’m a wimp, a wuss, a coward, who never should have gotten myself into this situation to begin with. I’m terrified! Is that what you want to hear? I’m not ready. I can’t handle this. Clearly I’m not ready to give in to someone else’s control, no matter how sexy I find you.”
She sniffled, hating that she couldn’t wipe away her tears, that he could see her crying and vulnerable. He still didn’t move.
“Now, if you’ll just untie me, I’ll go make an appointment with a shrink and you can get the hell out of my apartment. Happy?”
“I am becoming much more so.” Dmitri answered her rant and her glare with a smile and a tender kiss on the tip of her nose. He sat up, and the phantom hands disappeared. “I told you I wanted you to be completely honest with me, Regina. That includes telling me about your desires and your fears in equal measure.”
“You never said that. You told me not to lie. You never mentioned complete honesty.”
“Then clearly I should have. I do want your complete honesty, dushka, with yourself as well as with me. It is not shameful to fantasize about things you do not actually desire to have, but I will not tolerate it if you lie to me. Do you understand?”
Reggie nodded and shifted restlessly. He still hadn’t made a move to free her.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she demanded. “Now that I’ve spoiled all your fun, aren’t you going to untie me and get going?”
For the first time, Reggie heard him laugh. It sounded rich and dark and utterly sinful, like good chocolate.
Did I just compare his laugh to a food product? After he invaded my mind and made me cry? God, I really do need that shrink…
“You spoiled nothing for me, milka. And I didn’t say I am finished with you yet.”
Her eyes widened. “Uh, wait a second, buddy. In this country, when we say, ‘Stop now and untie me,’ the implied subtext there is, ‘Or I will call the police and see your sorry ass rot in jail for rape.’ Maybe I should have explained that to you earlier.”
Dmitri just flashed her his wicked grin. “Oh, I can read your subtext perfectly well. Now close your pretty mouth for me, hmm?”
“Argh!”
As exclamations went, it wasn’t particularly eloquent, but Reggie thought it summed up her frustration nicely. She tried to think up something more descriptive and withering to shout at Dmitri’s back when he leaned down to retrieve something else from the duffel bag. After the last incident, she expected an iron maiden, or maybe a cattle prod (So what if they would never have fit! She was having a moment of hysteria, here!). Instead, when Dmitri sat up, he held two richly colored silk scarves in his hands.
“Isn’t it a little late for those?” she asked, not caring if enough venom dripped from her tongue to put an asp to shame. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m already tied up.”
“Oh, I noticed.” He stood to get a better view and looked down at her with an expression of purely male satisfaction etched on his face. “You are a glorious sight, nenagyladnaya, you on whom I could never tire of looking. But you are still not in the right frame of mind for our time together. I believe this will help.”
Reggie would have glared up at him, but apparently Dmitri’s adjustment to their little scene involved using one of the silk scarves to blindfold her. The dark, paisley-printed cloth cut off her vision entirely, though Dmitri carefully examined the position of the layered material along her brow and her cheeks and beside her nose to be sure no gaps or holes allowed light to seep beneath.
“There. How is that, milka?”
“Just peachy.”
Dmitri chuckled. “Good. Then be a good girl and lie perfectly still for me.”
“Well, since I can’t reach the phone to dial 911, I guess I don’t have much choice, do I?”
Reggie was all set to work up a bloody scream the instant she felt the touch of the leather flogger against her skin. Instead, what came out of her mouth ranked somewhere between a whimper and a gasp of pure surprise. Rather than the sting of harsh leather, Reggie’s skin jumped at the feel of soft, silky feathers caressing her stomach.
You always have a choice, milaya.
The words whispered through her, less a sound than a knowing, and Reggie groaned. Damn it, he’s doing it again.
The feather tickled her stomach below the hem of the corset, dipped into the crease between hip and thigh, and swirled in teasing circles down toward her parted legs, half an inch at a time. How can I be doing it again when I have barely started?
I don’t know how you’re doing it in the first place!
Her abdominal muscles clenched against the sensations racing through them, and Reggie shook her head to clear it. The idea of being tied down and at the mercy of a strange man freaked her out quite enough. Being tied down and at the mercy of a strange man with supernatural abilities might just be too much for her to handle.
You can handle more than you think, dushka. And you will.
The feathery touch withdrew long enough to let her take a breath, but not long enough that she could brace herself before it returned, this time stroking softly against the underside of her breast. It felt different this time, though. Before, the sensation had been like a ghosting on her skin, gone without a trace, so if she had been alone (and not tied up), she would have wondered if she’d imagined it. This time the feathers, though just as soft, seemed to leave an echo of their touch on the skin beneath her left breast even as they moved on to the right.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, her back arching involuntarily to press her skin against the phantom touch.
He didn’t answer—at least, not verbally. But the very next thing to pierce her consciousness was the warm, damp glide of his tongue along the skin where the feather had dusted.
“Oh! What—?” She broke off at the feel of the feathers tickling her mouth. When they pulled away, she instinctively licked her lips. She felt the fine grit of dust for a split second before the texture melted against her tongue, leaving her with the warm, sweet taste of honey in her mouth.
It is almost as sweet as your skin, milka. But I think you taste even better on your own.
His tongue flicked out in a last, brief caress to the heavy curve of her right breast. All at once, he lowered his head and drew one taut, dusky nipple deep into his mouth.
“Ah,” she groaned, while the meaning of her life distilled down to that one moment and the sensation of Dmitri sucking at her breast.
His mouth felt like a furnace against her skin, and he drew on her flesh with strong, rhythmic pulls. She tried to reach down to him, to cradle his head in her hands, but she only succeeded in tugging hard at the silken ropes that bound her.
Frustrated, she groaned even louder and arched closer to him. His mouth felt wonderful—better than wonderful—but the attention to her breasts only made the flesh between her legs throb in time to his sucking.
His teeth closed around her nipple in warning. Perfectly still, milaya. Be a good girl for me.
“Misha,” she began, her voice faintly pleading. “Please…”
Aren’t I pleasing you? Even in her mind she could hear the amused note in his words, and she scowled.
“Tease.”
Dmitri chuckled, pulling his mouth from her breast with a hollow pop. He left her only long enough to trace a path across her chest to her other nipple. He latched on with evident greed, and Reggie moaned, her hands clenching and releasing uselessly above her head.
Am I teasing you, dushka?
One strong, long-fingered hand began to attend to her abandoned nipple, caressing the
nubby areola before taking the swollen tip between finger and thumb and pinching a little less than gently.
“O-oh!”
She felt his mouth leave her aching breast, felt the loss of his heat when he drew back from her. Yet his fingers continued to play with her puckered nipple, pinching and rolling the swollen nub.
Even with the blindfold on, she sensed his eyes on her. His gaze itself touched her, caressed her like another hand. She felt it on her face and her breast, and she shivered.
“You like that,” he murmured aloud this time, more an observation than a question, but she couldn’t muffle her breathless whimper of response.
His fingers tightened further, sending sharp stingers of pleasure-pain along that unique pathway of sensation that ran from her breasts to the very core of her.
“Yes!” She gasped it, fighting against her bonds, fighting to feel more of him. “Please, Misha, more.”
“So polite,” he murmured. “Such a good little girl you sound, milaya. Are you really a good little girl?”
Reggie could barely remember her name and he expected her to answer questions?
“Anything. Whatever you want, Misha. Just, please. More.”
If anything, his fingers softened around her nipple, making her whimper in frustration. He was doing it again. He had made her so hot, and now he was pulling away!
That thought echoed in her head for about three milliseconds before it—and every other conscious thought she had managed to come by—flew out of her head, pushed aside by the sensation of his long, thick finger parting her soft folds and penetrating her.
It felt so good, so much better than the phantom hands he’d touched her with before. This time the touch felt real and solid and hot against her wet tissues. She couldn’t help it. A low keening cry burst from her lips, and her hips jerked sharply upward to envelop his invading digit as deeply as possible.
“Misha!”
His hand smacked her sharply on the flank. She heard the cracking sound of it before she felt the impact, but the sting sent her hips pressing back to the mattress.
“Ow!”
“I told you twice not to move, Regina.”
His voice sounded firm and forbidding, but somehow Reggie didn’t feel frightened. In fact, even with his rough pinch of her nipples and the firm spank he’d just given her, Reggie still wasn’t afraid.
Because you trust me, dushka. As you should. His words sounded tender and patient, definitely a contrast with his last spoken commands and with his outward manner. Reggie hadn’t thought it was trust she felt when he’d pointed that silicone baseball bat of a dildo her way, and it certainly hadn’t been what she’d felt when he’d overwhelmed her with that magic-hands trick.
A moment of panic, he dismissed. Natural, really. You were not ready to experience that forbidden fantasy of yours. And the toys were not what you wanted. He flicked his thumb against her firm little clit to make her gasp, and inserted a second finger into her slick heat. This is what you wanted.
The width of the two digits stretched her, reminding her of how long it had been since she’d had sex. She felt full and somehow more spread and exposed than being tied mostly naked to the bedposts had already managed.
“This is what you want, isn’t it, dushka?”
She couldn’t think clearly. She couldn’t even tell the difference between his voice in her head and in her ears. It didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was that he keep touching her. That he take her.
“Isn’t it, Regina?”
He punctuated the repeated question with a twist of his wrist, sending his fingers even deeper inside her, rubbing against her slick, sensitive inner flesh.
“Yes!”
She hoped that was the right answer, because it was probably the most coherent reply she could manage.
“Yes, what, Regina?”
Oh, God, don’t make me think! Make me come! Can’t think—can’t…Ah! Uhn…more…
His fingers pinched her nipple tightly and lifted, tugging hard at the beaded peak. A flash of pain tried to register in her hazed mind, but it blended with the pleasure and became just another level of the sensation that overwhelmed her. She moaned.
“Yes, what, Regina?” His fingers pumped inside her pussy, the way made slick and smooth by her wetness. Crooking his index finger, he scraped the nail carefully against her inner wall. “Yes, you want this?”
“Yes. This! God, Misha—” Her head flew back against the pillow, her muscles clenched and straining with the pleasure. “Anything. Anything you want, Misha. Please!”
She was too far gone to sense his presence when he leaned close to her, but she felt his breath whisper against her ear.
“And if I want you to beg, dushka?”
His purring rumble shot through her, combining with the erotic imagery of his words to make her jerk and tremble beneath him.
“Yes, please,” she whispered, her voice becoming as husky and intense as his. “I’ll beg. I’ll do anything, Misha. Anything you want. But please, please make love to me.”
She arched her back, pressing her nipple into his palm and her hips into his hand, pushing herself against his fingers. Her muscles clenched, squeezing as if it were his cock filling her.
“Misha, please take me.”
All at once, she felt his weight lever away from her, and she couldn’t suppress a distressed whimper.
Hush.
Before she worked up a full-fledged protest, she felt his hands on the silk that covered her eyes. The scarf loosened and fell away, and Reggie blinked against the soft light of her bedside lamp. Her vision focused enough to make out Dmitri’s hard, muscular chest, and her eyes were closing again when he lowered his mouth to hers.
It was the first time he had kissed her, and Reggie knew the moment would be frozen in her mind for a very long time. He wasted no time courting her mouth, offered no deference to the newness of the experience. He devoured her, his lips covering hers, teeth nipping, tongue invading. He kissed as if he would swallow her, take her inside himself, as she prepared to take him inside of her.
The kiss made her resent her bonds. She wished fervently her arms were free to wrap around his broad shoulders, that she could run her fingers through his soft, dark hair. She wished her legs were free to wrap around his waist and urge him inside her.
Please, Dmitri. I can’t wait anymore. Please come inside me now.
He responded before she finished the thought. She felt the blunt, round head of his penis press through her slit and lodge against her aching entrance.
She heard his voice in her mind. Open for me, milka. Open wide for me in welcome.
And then she heard nothing.
In that moment, her cunt became her entire existence. Her world centered on the soft, wet channel between her legs and the thick, hard invader that demanded entrance.
She felt that first-time hesitation, the heightened tension and the sense of wonder at the ability of her body to stretch apart for a man, to take him inside of her and give him pleasure. She felt the sensation of stretching and the brief doubt about whether or not her body would accommodate his. With Dmitri, she felt right to wonder.
His body pressed hard against her opening and Reggie froze, waiting for the burning sensation to ease. She felt an internal pop when the head breached her entrance and expected the dulling of sensation that usually followed. Instead, her body stretched further when Dmitri began to force his length even deeper.
The shaft of his cock felt hot and smooth and thick as it tunneled inside her, at least as thick as the head. Instead of the stretching sensation easing, it grew even more intense with every inch he pressed inside her.
Reggie whimpered and shifted her hips, looking for a break from the intensity of the sensation, but Dmitri grew ruthless. His hands reached down to grasp her hips, forcing her high and hard against him. He held her so tightly she knew his fingertips would leave bruises where they dug into her flesh.
“Uhn! I ca
n’t…I—Ah! Dmitri, please. No more!” Her head tossed wildly against the pillow, her eyes clenched shut, her brow furrowed in distress. She tugged against the cords around her wrists as if she could climb up and away from him. She would die if he stopped, but she didn’t know if she could bear for him to continue.
“Yes. More. Look at me.” He rasped the words through gritted teeth.
Reggie struggled to obey. She pulled harder at the silk cords to distract herself while she tried to force her eyelids to lift. When she had managed slits, she caught sight of Dmitri above her and almost snapped them closed again. His eyes burned with heat and lust, and his normally harsh features might have been carved from dark granite.
“Take me,” he growled, shoving another inch into her distressed passage. “Take all of me.”
Reggie gasped, squirming beneath him, using her grip on the cords to try to pull herself away from him. “I can’t! Misha, please.”
He only gripped her hips tighter and thrust deeper. “All of me.”
And with one mighty lunge, he buried his entire length inside her.
She screamed.
She felt as if he had split her in two. He felt so huge, so much bigger than anything she’d ever experienced, and so much harder. His cock stretched her until she thought she couldn’t stand it, and his hard hips pressed into hers and forced her pelvis flat against the mattress. When he started thrusting, he would kill her.
He started thrusting.
Instead of ripping her apart like she’d feared, the intense pleasure-pain of the friction set off a chain reaction inside her. Her body clenched around his cock, her muscles clenched against the cords, and her nipples clenched into painfully tight buds where they rubbed against his broad chest.
Instead of trying to draw away, she threw herself at him, flinging her hips up to meet his thrusts, bucking wildly beneath him, while sounds she’d never heard before escaped her lips. She moaned, she panted, she squealed, and through it all, she begged him to take her harder.
One Bite with a Stranger Page 7