by Twyla Turner
I’m frozen. Unsure of what to do. I don’t need to.
Winter sits up, leans forward, and clasps my face. Her lush lips that I have dreamed of kissing find mine. She softly brushes her mouth across my lips.
I grasp either side of her face and kiss her hard. I don’t mean to be so rough, but I want all of her. She kisses me back just as desperately, so I guess she doesn’t mind.
My tongue finds hers, and I soften the kiss. I learn her taste as I mimic what I want to do to her body. She gasps into my mouth and crawls off of the bed onto my lap. As I stroke my tongue against hers, she rolls her hips over my confined erection.
I grip her upper arms and pull her away from my mouth. I shake my head vigorously.
“I can’t. He’ll kill us both.”
“I don’t care.”
I tighten my hold on her arms. It barely registers that I’m talking with no problem. The words come effortlessly.
“But I do. I do not want anything to happen to you, Winter.”
“Please, Yury.” She pleads against my lips. “Erase what they did to me. Help me forget.”
With the guilt of what happened earlier weighing on me, Winter said the magic words.
I grasp her hips and lift her back onto the bed. I turn the chair to fully face the bed. I pull her bottom to the edge. I grip the waistband of her pajama pants and give her a look. “May I?” She nods her head, and I pull the cotton fabric down her legs. I place her feet on the armrests on either side of me. I caress her legs as I spread them open.
Just as before, her lips are pink and swollen, slick with her arousal. But this time I am the reason for it.
My cock is rock hard, but it’ll have to wait until later. Winter is the only thing that matters now.
I lean forward and blow softly on her heated flesh. I hear her inhale sharply. I kiss down one thigh and up the other. I watch her muscles clench as I pass her pretty pussy.
Eating pussy has become my specialty. I knew that if I could get women off this way, they’d be more willing to have sex with me. That was true of the less selfish women. Whether Winter is willing to reciprocate or not doesn’t matter. I desperately want to do this for her.
My tongue finds her slick lips, and I gently lap at them. I lightly nibble on each, heightening her anticipation. I find her center weeping with her feminine nectar. I gladly lap it up, tasting her salty sweetness.
Winter gasps and rolls her pussy against my mouth. She wants more.
Slowly, I flick my tongue up and slightly tap her pink nub. Her hips buck. I spread her lips, exposing her clit. I circle my tongue around it, and small cries pass her lips.
I want more. So I latch on, and tongue kiss her swollen clit as if I was kissing her mouth. I flatten my tongue against her and begin to roll it deliberately.
Winter reaches for my hair to grab it, but can’t find a good hold since its cut low. Instead, she finds my ears to hold on to as she fucks my mouth eagerly.
I feel her muscles begin to clench and I know she’s close. I ease the pressure of my tongue and flick gently at the pink bud, and it’s enough.
Winter comes apart, and I latch on once more to draw out her orgasm. She wraps her hands around the back of my head and presses me further into her as her pussy pumps against my mouth. I prolong her orgasm with slow, languid laps.
Finally, Winter shudders and pulls her hips away from me, unable to take any more. She raises up her body onto her elbows to look at me and smiles shyly. She slides off of the bed and onto my lap once more. She kisses me softly on the lips. I deepen the kiss. Our tongues stroking each other. I pull away as I feel my cock leak a little. I want inside of her so badly, I can barely control my own body.
I come awake with a start. In my own room, down the hall from Winter’s. I barely remember leaving her room after she fell asleep.
It was all a dream.
But it felt so real.
My heart is pounding from the high of giving such an intense orgasm. My dick is hard as a rock. And it was not even real. I could still see her laid out before me. I could smell her sweet scent. I could taste her on my tongue.
I have a strong feeling that dream is going to stick with me a long time.
Chapter 12
I open my eyes to my dark room. I wonder if Ivan will take down the metal sheets covering the windows if I prove that I can behave and follow orders. My skin may not allow me to be out in direct sunlight for long, but I still like to see it. To feel its warmth.
I sigh and switch on the bedside lamp, instead.
I didn’t realize how much I’d miss it. The sun. Interesting how that works. How people take things for granted until they’re gone. Like my freedom.
Memories of the night before flood my mind. I turn my head quickly to the side of the bed where Yury had sat last night. He’s not there, and the chair is back against the wall. He must have left after I fell asleep.
Thoughts of what Ivan had subjected me to start to crowd my thoughts. I squeezed my eyes shut at the rush of humiliation that I feel. Then I see a beautiful scarred face.
Yury.
Last night I had been angry that Ivan had taken my first orgasm and made it so public and forced on by strangers. But now I realize that the two climaxes that they forced out of me were Yury’s. I made sure they were his as I’d stared at him. Connected with him, as they washed over me.
Then the feel of being in his arms as he carried me to my room. How gentle he was as he let me cry all over him. And the way he kissed and touched me in my dream that felt so real. I want it to be real.
Somehow through all of this, I’m gaining feelings for him.
The beast.
I can’t imagine this will end well.
The soft three tap knock at the door reaches my ears. It feels like doves are released inside my tummy. My skin tingles.
“Come in,” I say eagerly.
I know it’s Yury with my breakfast.
The door opens, and I smile brightly and begin to slide out of bed. He carries in a large covered tray. My wide smile falters and pulls down into a frown as Ivan steps around Yury’s massive frame.
He’s in an impeccable navy three-piece suit. His blond hair is combed back into perfect waves. His cold silver eyes devour me. He’s gorgeous.
I hate him.
“I thought we could have breakfast together this morning and I figured I’d come to you this time,” Ivan says amiably.
His friendly tone doesn’t fool me. I know that if I said no, he’d turn on me like a rabid dog.
I don’t trust myself to speak yet. I fear that I’ll blurt out something hateful. So instead, I just nod my head.
“Good.”
In my room, there is a bistro table with a couple of chairs. Yury sets the tray down there and pulls the cover off. The smell of delicious food wafts up to my nose. My stomach voices its complaints.
“Perfect. It sounds like you’re hungry.” Ivan states with a smile. “Skotina, you can leave us now.”
My eyes briefly glance at Yury. Just a hint of trepidation in my quick gaze. Though I’m sure, Yury caught it. He doesn’t miss much.
He nods and backs out of the room. He gives me a look. I’m not certain, but it looks like worry in his eyes.
“Come, eat up. You don’t have to worry. I won’t bite you.” Ivan winks. I’m sure most women would drop their drawers and bend over at that wink.
Not today. Not this woman.
“S-So why are you all dressed up on a Saturday?” I ask, trying to make small talk.
I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t care where he’s going or why. But I figure letting him believe that I’m obedient will only help in the long run. I eventually want to see sunlight again as well. So, I swallow my pride and give it the old college try.
“I have a meeting out of town later this afternoon. No rest for the weary. But no worries…” he pauses, giving me a knowing look. “I’ll be back in time for your performance tonight.”
I
give him a tight smile. I’d rather spit in his face.
“You will sing this time, won’t you?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” I can’t help it. A smidge of attitude creeps into my tone.
“Oh, you have plenty of choices, Winter. I’m just not sure how you’ll enjoy the repercussions of some of those choices. Last night would be nothing compared to the punishments I could mete out.”
I swallow.
“Beautiful, Winter. Trust me, I’d rather not punish or hurt you.”
“For some reason, I don’t believe you. Last night, you certainly seemed pleased.”
“You’re a gorgeous woman. So of course watching you reach powerful orgasms was definitely a turn-on for me. I’m willing to admit that.” Ivan concedes.
“Was humiliating me a turn-on too?” Dammit! I can’t seem to stop my smart mouth.
“Yes,” he said unapologetically. “So don’t push me. I’d gladly do it again.”
I sit back and push away my half-eaten plate of food. My appetite fading.
“Well, you’re nothing if not honest.”
It was the only thing I could think to say after his brutal honesty. Most people weren’t that forthcoming with their innermost thoughts. Apparently, Ivan had no problems being honest to a fault.
“I feel it is best to be this way. So that no one will misunderstand me or my meaning.”
“I’ve definitely heard you loud and clear.”
“Winter, I don’t want to fight with you. I want you to see the benefit of working for me. Singing in my club. And maybe spending your spare time with me. Getting to know me. I’m honestly not a horrible person. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted and give you pleasures you’ve never imagined you wanted.”
“I was already giving myself everything I’ve ever wanted. My career has afforded me the life I want. I didn’t and don’t want anything more. But now with you, I have less. My freedom, for instance. It’s gone. That’s something I had before I met you.” I try to keep my voice steady. Trying to state the facts without getting emotional. It isn’t easy.
“You could’ve had your freedom if you would’ve said yes when I first asked.” He says as if that makes any sense.
“Are you serious?” I ask incredulously. “That’s not freedom. To ask a person for something and when they say no, you take it instead. That’s the illusion of freedom. The illusion of choice.”
“Not quite. If you’d have said yes, you could’ve had your own apartment wherever you wanted here in Paris and the freedom to come and go as you please.”
I cannot believe he honestly believes the shit he’s saying. It’s obvious he grew up in a country that had as much freedom as their obedience afforded them. I want to scream and cry, but know that I can’t do any of it. It won’t make a difference.
“If you prove yourself, eventually I might grant you your freedom once more.”
“Thanks,” the sarcasm drips from my lips.
Ivan sighs and then pushes away his food and stands.
“I better head out.” He hesitates. “How is Skotina treating you?”
Something in his tone and the way he holds himself, tells me that the answer to this question is important. I know I need to tread carefully.
“Uh…fine.” I shrug. “Like a regular ole prison guard is supposed to, I guess.”
“So he hasn’t been cruel or…or inappropriate in any way.”
Yury has been nothing but nice. But I have the feeling that Ivan wouldn’t take to kindly to the fact that his guard comforted me while I cried and held my hand as I fell asleep. So I keep that sweet and innocent moment to myself.
“No, not at all.”
“Good.” He buttons his suit jacket. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I don’t respond, but I do expel the oppressive breath that I’ve been holding for the last half hour when he strides from my room.
I wait about ten minutes, which is as long as I can hold out, and then I run to the door and knock softly. I hear the lock click and step back as I watch the knob turn. The door slowly opens, and Yury looks down at me, searching my face for any signs of distress. He must be satisfied with what he sees because he smiles slightly. Crinkling the scars on his face on one side and the corner of his eye on the other.
“Is he gone?” I ask looking past Yury and into the hallway.
He nods his head once.
“Will you come inside?” I ask hopefully. “To talk?”
His hand takes my wrist, and he strokes his calloused thumb over my racing pulse. I feel heat radiate up my arm from his simple touch. I look up at him, but my eyes never make it past his soft pink lips.
I lick mine. My mind going to my erotic dream.
My eyes finally reach his. He gives me only a tiny hint of a smirk and shakes his head no. I don’t want to admit it, but I’m filled with disappointment.
I want to feel what I felt last night, but instead, I want it to be him who touches me. I want to finish what we started in my dream. I want to see his penis. I can’t imagine a man his size would be small. After my ex, trying something larger might be the key to finding pleasure during sex. I want to know how it would feel to be with someone who looks at me the way Yury does.
I want.
“Alright. Well, thank you for talking with me and staying with me until I fell asleep last night.” I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss his scarred cheek softly.
I see red tinge his cheeks before he gives me the sweetest look. He nods his head and then closes the door.
I lean back against the door and try to calm my overactive body when I realize something.
I’m horny.
I’ve never felt this way before. Having sex with my ex, who shall not be named, always felt like a chore. I never initiated. I barely participated.
Everything feels so different now. I feel different.
Yury changed that. And as much as I hate to admit it, so did Ivan.
I can’t go back now.
Chapter 13
I stand sentry on the other side of Winter’s door, listening to the beauty team chatter happily as they again help her get ready for her performance later.
All day Winter tormented me. Every time I needed to come into her room, like when I brought her lunch, she seemed to find even less to wear than earlier in the week. This time it was shorts that could easily be panties, they were so little. And a fitted tank top with no bra. Her ass cheeks had hung out the bottom of the shorts, and the front of them outlined her pussy perfectly. Her nipples were hard and strained against the fabric of the tank. I could easily remember her body as it was the night before. White with accents of pink. Pink in her flushed cheeks, her nipples, and her swollen lips.
I could see all of her through her clothing. Like x-ray vision.
She had no idea how badly I wanted to rip her shorts in two, bend her over the nearest piece of furniture, and fuck her until she begged me to stop. She probably had an inkling, considering how she tried to taunt me. But she couldn’t know just how badly.
I wonder if Ivan has created a monster. She wants more, and I can’t give it. If I touch her, I won’t stop. I won’t stop until I’ve kissed, licked, fucked, and claimed every inch of her.
Ivan is already suspicious. If I fully took her, tasted her, he’d know. Though she’s weakening my resolve.
She is not mine to have. Technically, she isn’t Ivan’s either. But I know that Ivan is going to wear her down. He’s going to court her or find a way to coerce her into sleeping with him.
The mere thought twists my gut.
I know he’s well on his way to seducing her. Bending her to his will. All day, for the first time since I snatched her out of her bed, Winter sang. She’s been practicing the songs Ivan wants her to sing and warming up her vocal cords.
And with each time she obeys him, it is just another step closer to her being in his bed. It is inevitable.
Which kills me. Though, I am glad she is practicing so that he
won’t torment her later and because her voice is the most beautiful sound in whole world to me.
When she sings, it’s like she reaches inside me and tugs on every emotion I have. And the songs that Ivan chose for her to sing are all seductive. So every note wraps around me and pulls at my arousal. Which I’m sure is what Ivan intends.
In his club, his members get the full experience. The foods created by a world-renowned chef are made with the most delicious of aphrodisiacs to tantalize the palette and turn on the libido. The music is slow and sexy with rhythms that mimic the deep thrust of a man’s hips. The male and female “escorts” are trained in the art of touch and massage to keep members in a heightened state of awareness. And even pheromones are pumped through the ventilation system to blend in with the smells of sex and arousal in the air.
Winter was simply another piece added to the sensual atmosphere of Club Illicit.
I hear a knock on the other side of the door. She’s ready.
I open the door, and the three stylists immediately walk out with their cases filled with miracle makeover products. Behind them stands Winter.
She’s stunning in a bright, flowing coral dress. The neckline is deep cut. It stops about halfway down her tummy. The curve of her breasts exposed. I imagine the only way it’s staying up is with some type of double-sided tape. The short sleeves billow around her. The dress is cinched in at the waist with a golden rope belt. The flowing material splits high on her thigh and cascades down to the floor around her. One thick, pale leg exposed.
They pulled her hair back into a large puff at the back of her neck. Her makeup is ethereal like her. Golden and pink.
I’m certain my eyes pay her a compliment without words. Especially after she flushes with color.
“Thank you,” she says softly looking down at herself.
We ride the elevator down to the club with the beauty team in silence. I’m sure her nerves are all over the place as well. After last night, I cannot imagine that she is happy to go back onto that stage.