by Apryl Baker
“Tell me.”
The bite of command in his voice snapped her head up. There was no give in his eyes. He wanted an answer, and he was prepared to do what it took to get said answer.
“Yes.”
The towel was pulled away and tossed to the side. She was completely naked, her legs spread wide, breasts thrust upward due to the position he’d put her in. She blushed hard, a little embarrassed. No one had ever really seen her naked before, not even Rob Jamison, the boy who’d taken her virginity.
“So pretty.” He leaned in and licked her bottom lip. “Do you know how beautiful you are, sweetheart?”
He squatted in between her legs, and she let go of the counter, pulling at him, realizing what he was going to do. No one had ever touched her there except herself. It was too intimate. He couldn’t…
“Don’t. Touch. Me.”
His words were ice cold, and she shivered, pulling her hands back instinctively.
“Did I give you permission to move?”
She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
“Where are those hands supposed to be?”
She clutched the counter again, a little afraid, but so turned on, she feared she might come with nothing more than a simple touch.
“Good girl.” He flashed her a smile and gripped her hips, pulling her forward so her ass was almost hanging off the countertop. “I am not going to fuck you, even though I want to, Becca, so unless you want my cock buried inside you, don’t fucking move. Understand?”
She nodded.
“Words, Rebecca, I want the words.”
“I understand.” She didn’t recognize the whine in her voice, the raspy sound that left her when he picked up both legs and pushed them backward toward her chest, spreading them wide.
“Hold your legs. Don’t let them move unless I move them.”
She obeyed instantly and sucked in a breath when he kissed the backs of her legs. This was too much, the sensations too intense.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes moved to him. He smiled. “I want to see those eyes when I taste you, Becca. Don’t close them.” His finger slipped between her folds, spreading the moisture. “So wet, Krasivaya. I know you’re not a virgin. You said as much when you admitted to using a vibrator, but have you ever had a man inside you before?”
She nodded. “I grew up around a motorcycle club, D. You don’t do that and not have sex.”
He growled, the lust in his face growing. “How long has it been, Becca?”
“I was eighteen the last time I had sex.”
She was going to be so tight. He’d have to be more careful than he’d originally thought. Vibrators were not equipped to prepare her for him. Fuck, but it would feel good. His dick jumped in agreement, and he beat the fucker back. He wouldn’t get to taste her tonight.
“You are never ever going to use a toy again, unless I tell you to. Do you understand me?”
“I…”
“The only person or thing to give you pleasure is going to be me, Rebecca Joyce. You belong to me, and that means your pleasure belongs to me too.”
He didn’t want to scare her, but she needed to understand a few things. This was who he was, and he wanted her to accept him. To accept what only he could give her.
“Dimitri…I…” He saw the uncertainty in her eyes, saw the naked desire to trust him, to believe what she was seeing, but the fear beat back the hope in her expression.
“Shh…” He leaned forward and licked her from her opening all the way to her clit, stopping to suckle it. “Trust me, sweetheart. Trust me to take care of you.”
A low keening sound left her when he began to tease her swollen clit, his tongue swiping over it before he pulled it with his teeth. She was so close. God, the taste of her. He lapped at the juices leaking from her, humming in contentment. He could just sit here and taste her. Her scent surrounded him, and he slipped two fingers inside her.
She cried out and clamped around his fingers so hard, he couldn’t move them for a minute. Her eyes were glued to his, the sleepy look full of need, her expression pained, her breasts heaving. Slowly, he twisted his fingers inside her, forcing them deeper, his fingertips rubbing the swollen flesh.
“There’s my girl.” He pulled his fingers out, careful not to hurt her, and sucked them into his mouth, eyes closing. He stood and leaned over her. “Taste yourself, Krasivaya.” He kissed her, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth, and she twisted, trying to get as close as she could to him.
He slapped her ass hard enough to sting. “Don’t move.”
She whimpered, her breathing labored, and he smiled. “Good girl.” He stood back and looked at her, basically immobile and so close to the edge, all he’d have to do is one quick, hard thrust of his fingers, but he liked seeing her like this, so close and dependent upon him for her release.
He ignored the burn in his legs that announced he’d soon have to sit. He could deal with the pain, even enjoyed it a little. He didn’t move, only gyrated his hips into her, and she gasped, the rasp long and loud.
“Please, Dimitri…” She bit her lip when the seam of his shorts lined up with her clit. “Oh, God, please…” Her legs shook, the muscles so tight, Dimitri knew she could come at any minute.
“Tell me, baby, what do you need? Just tell me.”
“I…” She tried to move, but he gripped her hips, holding her still while he gently slid his hips up and down, the seam of his shorts torturing not only her, but his abused cock. It ached with a hurt so intense, his eyes almost rolled back in his head.
“Tell me,” he barked out, his voice harsher. Fuck, she needed to say it soon, or he was going to come in his jeans without her.
“Make me come, Dimitri…please.”
Her hoarse words spurred on his cock, and he slid against her with not only speed, but pressure. She quivered, and he swallowed her cry of release with his lips, holding her in place until his cock decided to stop convulsing with his own release.
“Fuck.” His head fell and rested against her cheek after a few minutes, but he still didn’t release his bruising grip on her hips.
She let out a shaky laugh. “I thought you said you weren’t going to fuck me.”
“That wasn’t fucking, sweetheart. That was foreplay.”
He stood and winced as his legs reminded him he’d been standing for too long, even if he had been bent over the naked flesh of the sexiest woman he’d ever met. He found her washcloth in the shower and used it to clean her up, doing his best not to hurt her.
She whimpered when he dragged the cloth over her still overly sensitive clit. He dipped a finger into her, and she cried out, her walls convulsing again, and he smiled as the second orgasm hit her full on. It pleased him to no end to know his touch could do that to her. He thrust into her gently until the last of her tremors stopped then washed her again.
He pried her hands away from her legs and pulled her up, his lips trailing butterfly kisses over her face. “You good?”
“I…” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know. What was that, D?”
He smiled. “That was the beginning of us, Rebecca Joyce Rhodes. Now, get your ass off this damned counter and get dressed while I find some clothes. I went and got food. We can eat and talk about…this while I sign those damn books.”
He left her sitting there, staring at him like he’d lost his mind, while he went to find new pants.
Chapter Fourteen
As soon as the door closed behind Dimitri, Becca slid off the counter and landed on the floor, her emotions all over the place.
What the ever-loving fuck just happened?
The beginning of us?
Her fingers went to her lips, feeling the bruised, swollen skin. If he didn’t call what he did to her fucking, then he was out of his damned mind. He’d fucked her over, but good. Her body hummed, ached in such a delicious way.
Her head landed in her hands, and she struggled to come to terms with what she’d not only let him
do, but how he’d done it. The man turned into one of those dominant males she’d only read about, and her body had responded like a well-oiled, responsive little traitor. She mentally slapped herself.
Who was this man, and what had he done with her best friend?
A loud knock sounded. “Five minutes or I’m coming in to get you!”
Shit. She jumped up, banging her elbow on the counter in her haste. Wincing, she found her Led Zeppelin t-shirt and pulled it over her head. The fucker. How dare he? He couldn’t just do…do…that and then not give her time to process. The longer she thought about it, the madder she became.
Asshole.
She wiggled into her purple shorts and stomped out of the bathroom, expecting to see him in the front room of the suite, but found the balcony doors open instead. The scent of lasagna hit her nose, and her stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in hours.
He was sitting at the small table outside, his expression pained as he swallowed medicine. Some of her anger waned as her best friend mode kicked in. He was obviously in a lot of pain, but she pushed it down. What he’d done was not okay.
“Dimitri.”
He looked up, flashing her his one-hundred-watt smile. She ignored it, placed her hands on her hips, and let him have it. “How dare you! You had no right to come in there and do that. I told you over and over we would never have a sexual relationship, and you completely ignored my wishes. It is not okay. When a woman says no, she means no. I am not one of your women, Dimitri, and I never will be.”
“No, Krasivaya, you are not one of my women and never will be.” He gestured to the empty seat across from him, a Styrofoam box waiting for her on the table. When she hesitated, he gave her his shy smile, one she hadn’t seen since high school. “Sit, please. I’m not going to jump you, I promise.”
What game was he playing now? She was so done with this shit. “No. I’m not going to sit like a good little girl, asshole. What you did…”
“Was exactly what we both wanted, and you know it.” He cut her off, his tone becoming frosty. “If you had wanted me to stop, I would have. I am not the kind of man to force himself on you. You loved what happened in there. You just don’t want to admit it because you’re scared of how it made you feel. You fucking loved it, Rebecca. Don’t play the coward or the self-righteous bigot now.”
“I am not a coward.” She was playing the self-righteous card, though. It gave her something to hold on to, but she’d never been able to fool Dimitri any more than he could her. She hated him for it sometimes.
“No?” He cocked his head. “Then why are you lying to not only yourself, but to me? Just admit you liked what happened in that bathroom. Admit you liked my hands on you. My mouth all over your sweet pussy, my fingers buried deep inside while I kissed you. Admit it, Rebecca.”
He’d stood and stalked her, each word like a bullet lancing through her. He pushed her up against the French door, her body caged in by his. She wasn’t afraid despite the anger rolling off him. Dimitri would never hurt her, no matter how pissed he was, and boy, was he mad. His whole body vibrated with anger.
He wanted her to ’fess up to liking what he’d done to her, to how he’d made her feel while he’d told her exactly what to do. Hell’s bells. She didn’t even want to admit to herself how much she liked it.
His lips found her jawline, and she shuddered, still completely raw from before. His idea of warfare was so unfair.
“Admit it.”
“Yes, asshole, I liked it.” She despised the way her voice betrayed how much she liked it, and in retaliation, she hauled off and kneed him. Hard.
He let out a cry that probably woke half the neighbors, but he staggered away from her, his hand cupping the family jewels.
“What the fuck did you do that for?” He wheezed the words out, his timbre going a little high.
“Because you fucking deserved it.” She bypassed him and sat at the table, the smell of the food delicious. “You decided for me that’s what I wanted. No one has that right. Doesn’t matter how much I liked it. You can’t do that.”
He waddled over to his own chair and sank down, his hands still busy trying to rub the sting out of his dick.
“You’re right,” he said after a few minutes. “I don’t have that right. Not yet, anyway.”
Her eyes narrowed. What did he mean, not yet?
“Do you like Olive Garden?”
The abrupt switch in conversation threw her. He sounded calmer, more like the Dimitri she knew and less like the asshole who always got what he wanted.
“Never tried it.”
“What? You’ve never eaten at Olive Garden? Endless soups and salads and the breadsticks. Oh, my God. I could live on their breadsticks!”
“I take it you’ve eaten there a lot?” He was up to something, but what?
Dimitri grinned. “Granted, it’s not the same as going to one of the Italian restaurants where the recipes have been passed down generation to generation, but the OG will do in a pinch. Food is good, breadsticks are amazing. I got you lasagna.” He reached over and opened the Styrofoam lid, letting the smell tickle her nose.
He saw the caution in her expression as she tried to figure out what his angle was. While he’d expected some resistance, he’d never once thought she’d fucking haul off and kick him in the balls. His dick was still screaming in pain, but it was all he could do to keep from laughing. He had deserved it, but he’d never admit it.
Laughing would be bad right now. She was pissed enough as it was. “I know you like lasagna, so stop staring at me like I’m Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The colder it gets, the worse it’ll taste.”
“There’s a microwave.” She didn’t so much as make a move toward her plastic silverware. “What is going on, Dimitri?”
Dimitri set his own fork down and looked at her. “I want you. Plain and simple.”
“But I can’t be one of your women, D. It would destroy me.”
The hurt and insecurity in that declaration made his heart twist. He scooted his chair over next to hers and pulled her around so they were facing each other. His legs had been through all they could take right now, but he needed his hands on her, needed her to know he meant what he was about to say.
“I don’t want that, Becca. I want a real relationship with you. I want you to be the first person I see when I wake up and the last person I see when I go to sleep. You’re the only woman I want.”
“For how long, though?” She ducked her head. “When you get bored, you’ll move on. I know you, Dimitri. I know how easily you get distracted and lose interest. I can’t…no, I won’t do that to myself.”
He tipped her head up to look at him. “Have I ever gotten bored with you in all the years we’ve known each other?”
“I don’t know.” Her brown eyes were fathomless. “I’m not around you all the time. We only chat on the phone or through text messages. You’ve never had the chance to be bored with me.”
“I’ll give you that, sweetheart, but only that. Here’s what I do know. You are the only person I have to talk to every day. In all the years we’ve been friends, when have I not called or texted each and every single day? Do you know why that is, Becca?”
“Why?” she whispered, her teeth biting her lower lip.
“Because I can’t sleep if I don’t talk to you, I can’t write. Hell, I can’t function without hearing all that sass from you at least once during the day. You’re the only woman who’s ever done that to me. I love you, Becca. Is it the love I write about? I don’t know, but I want the chance to see if that’s what this is. I know I’m an asshole, a manwhore, and have always been proud of it, but this manwhore wants the chance to try for happiness with the one person who means more to me than anyone. Will you try, Krasivaya? Please?”
“Who are you, and what have you done with Dimitri?”
He laughed, but he knew she was serious. “I’ve always loved you, Becca. Probably since that first day I saw you skulking in the back of t
he library.”
“I wasn’t skulking.” Pulling her food to her, she picked up her fork and stabbed at the rapidly cooling food.
“Yes, you were.” He winked at her. “I liked it, though. You intrigued me.”
“Only because I didn’t fall all over myself trying to get your attention. You had enough of that from the idiot girls who batted their lashes and threw their boobs in your face every time you passed by them. No, thank you. I have more self-respect than that.”
“That’s why I liked you. You were a challenge. If not for me talking to you in Russian every day, I think you would have ignored me completely.”
“Probably, or I would have told Jackson you were bothering me, and he’d have had someone come beat the shit out of you.”
“He wouldn’t have done it personally?” Dimitri twirled some of the pasta onto his fork, grateful she started to relax.
She laughed, a full-on belly laugh. “You wouldn’t have been worth his time. One of his lackeys would have handled it.”
“Not worth his time?” He pouted, plastering on his best outraged expression. “I was the captain of the fucking football team.”
“Football is not God in an MC.” She smiled, and he let out a breath he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding. Relaxed, she’d be willing to talk out this thing between them.
“Then what is?”
“You don’t want to know.” She bit off a piece of bread and sighed. “These are good.”
“Told you so.” He picked up his container and inhaled the delicious aroma.
They ate quietly, and it was that comfortable silence he’d never found with any other woman. He simply enjoyed being in Becca’s presence. It had nothing to do with his dick and that bastard’s lust-filled thoughts. No, it was Becca. Her personality, her kindness, her wicked humor. She soothed him.
Becca took a few minutes to process everything he’d told her. Last night, they’d both agreed to not pursue this, or at least she thought he’d agreed. She had zero desire to get her heart shattered, but he seemed so earnest. What changed?