With that declaration, he nudged open my folds... explored... then sank two fingers into the tight space he found.
I drew in a sharp breath. Shocked at the invasion.
“It is okay. It is okay, Lydia.” He pulled my head forward and gave me another soft kiss. “You are tight, but we will make your pleasure. Ride hand. Ride until you find place you like.”
His broken English was a little hard for my mind to comprehend. But my body understood. I instinctively moved my hips into his fingers. Shifting up and down until the button he’d so expertly rubbed earlier found the friction it wanted on the ball of his hand. A lightning bolt of pleasure shot through me.
“There!” I gasped.
“Here?” He down-shifted, then set a new rhythm, curling his fingers inside of me as he applied a massaging pressure with his hand.
“Yes! There! There!” The slow throb had disappeared. Everything was quickening inside of me. I was burning up again. But this time I liked it. I liked it so much!
He tugged on my locks, just enough to tip my head back so I had to look him in the eye as he said, “You will come for me. Right now, on my hand. Like good girl you promised to be before.”
I’d made no such promise. But my breath quickened. And suddenly, I was doing something else I’d never done with any boys before him. Contracting, then exploding around his fingers.
Sparks of pleasure zapped through me, making me arch into his hand and cry out as my entire body bloomed with heat.
“Thank you, Lydia.” He dropped more soft kisses on my neck, my chin, and all over my face as I shuddered to completion. “You are so good for me. I am never being this pleased.”
I could only stare at him with wonder. “How did you...?”
How could you?
The harsh, judgmental question crashed down on me as his fingers continued to move in my greedy, contracting sex.
How could you let him do that for you after what you almost did to him earlier at the club?
Shame curdled my stomach.
It felt so good. Until it felt so terrible.
The voice inside my head was right. I’d tried to drug him.
The only reason I was here in this hotel room was because I’d attempted to do something horrible to this amazing guy, who’d done nothing but attend to me and my needs since I stepped into his hotel room.
How dare I let him give me my first orgasm?
What business did I even have coming back here with him?
“I… I shouldn’t have done this!” I said. “Stop… stop!”
To his credit, Artyom immediately pulled his hand back and moved his body from mine. “Am I doing something wrong? Hurting you?”
The question was sincere. The expression on his face genuinely worried.
Oh my God, I’m a monster.
I leaped out of bed. “I should never have come here with you. I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” he asked, sitting up. He looked so handsome in his open button-down, and I could see the thick line of his hard-on clearly etched out against his pants.
The shame turned to ice. Freezing my blood with the knowledge that I was the worst. Truly the worst.
No more talking. I pulled back on that awful yellow dress as fast as my trembling hands would let me and ran toward the door.
“Lydia,” he called behind me. “Lydia!”
