“I’m always right,” Darby says with a smirk.
After paying for my drinks against Darby’s loud and almost violent protesting, I leave the bar and take a taxi back toour apartment. It’s quiet and empty, and Darby won’t be home until well after three in the morning.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I just need to get off to clear my head. I mean, there’s no harm in it.
I go to my room and change out of my dress and into comfier clothes. I put on a pair of shorts and a shirt that has a cartoon ketchup bottle and a hot dog on the front and says in a big, bold font, “I squirt on juicy wieners”. Darby bought it for me as a gag gift, but I actually wear it a lot because it’s comfortable.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I open my nightstand drawer. My collection of toys isn’t the best. I have a few little clitoral vibrators that I got during a visit to an adult sex store with Darby years ago. They aren’t the greatest, but they manage to get the job done.
Relaxing, I lay back and turn one of them on before sticking it down my shorts. The vibration against my clit has me moaning out loud. I guess there’s no point in being quiet since I’m home alone. And once it starts to feel really good, I suddenly blurt out Dimitri’s name. I didn’t mean to, but I can’t say that I mind thinking about him. It’s not like I don’t already have him running through my mind constantly. No shame in getting off to him when I’m alone with my own dirty thoughts.
I think about the way he handled me at the ballet studio. So demanding and commanding, controlling my every move. How he made me cum on his tongue with hardly any effort at all. I bet Darby is right. I bet he does fuck like a stallion. Whatever the hell that means.
So, then I think about fucking Dimitri. I think about marrying him instead of his brother, and him taking my virginity. I wonder if he would be gentle or rough. Oh shit, it doesn’t even matter. In my head, in my fantasies, he’s taking me whatever way he wants to take me, and I’m here for it.
I moan his name again and again. And I’m almost there, so close to achieving the pleasure I’m seeking when there’s a sudden knock on the door.
“Oh shit!” I gasp. It must be Darby. Sometimes she runs home in between shifts to grab something she needs or forgot. Speaking of forgetting things, she somehow always forgets to take her damn keys with her.
Throwing my vibrator into my drawer, my impending orgasm long forgotten, I go to the answer the door. “I’m coming!” I yell, but then I cringe because I realize how that sounds.
“Did you forget your —?” I start to say when I unlock the door and swing it open. But it isn’t Darby on the other side of the door. No, it’s the last person on earth I wanted to show up on my doorstep.
Dimitri has a pissed off look on his face as he towers over me, glaring. He’s probably mad that I’ve been ignoring him, or maybe something else has upset him. Slowly, I glance down and realize in complete and utter mortification that I’m standing in front of him while wearing the tiniest pair of shorts that I own that leave very little to the imagination and a t-shirt that says ‘I squirt on juicy wieners’.
Why does this kind of shit always happen to me?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Dimitri
SAVINA HAS BEEN avoidingme for a week. I know because I’ve been watching her religiously on the hidden cameras I installed in her apartment. Every time Darby asks her to go somewhere, Savina vehemently declines.
If Savina thinks that staying holed up in her apartment will keep her safe from me, she’s sadly mistaken. The only reason I haven’t marched up those steps and snuck into her bed is because I’ve been busy with work. My father has me running errands for him like the good, little dog I am. Ever since the contract changed to Pavel being the groom instead of me, my father has been asserting his dominance over me, commanding my every move.
I try to keep focused on work, because there will be dire consequences if I don’t, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Savina. I swear, if I think about it hard enough, I can still taste her on my fucking tongue. She tastes like the sweetest nectar of the gods, and Icrave her more than the strongest drug that my father is currently pushing around.
At first, this was all a game, and I was hoping to just get under her skin, but I think the exact opposite happened. She’s under my skin now, and I am fucking obsessed with her.
I’m on yet another errand for my father, close to being finished for the night when I get a motion notification on my phone, which is mounted between the handlebars of my motorcycle.
I ease my boot off the gas and check the camera footage quickly to see that Savina is home from her little trip to Darby’s bar. It’s the first night she’s left the house in a while. And if she had been planning on being at the bar long and getting drunk, I would have gone there. But she’s home already.Strange.
When she walks into her bedroom and leaves the view of the cameras, I push a button on my helmet. My Bluetooth immediately connects, and the audio from the hidden device in her room begins filtering the sound through the speakers. I can hear the sound of her opening and closing her bedroom door, followed by light swishing sounds of clothing being taken off and something else being put on.
I hear a drawer open and the slight squeak of the bed as she sits down on it. My curiosity is piqued, and I instantly regret not installing cameras in her room.
And that’s when I hear it.
Straining and pushing the volume button on my phone, I swear I can hear something vibrating. At first, I think maybe she’s doing something innocent like testing out a new electric toothbrush she bought or maybe a new razor. But then I hear a clear, sweet moan coming from her lips.
Oh, fuck, Savina is pleasuring herself.
My hand grips the handlebar. Hard. I’m ten minutes away from her apartment, and it’s taking everything in me right now to just keep riding and listening to her as more moans fill my helmet. My cock strains against my zipper, begging to be released as I picture her onher bed with her legs spread wide and a vibrator pressed against her clit.
I mutter a curse inside my helmet. Traffic buzzes by me as I suddenly forget how to fucking drive, easing too far off the gas too quickly and nearly getting rear-ended by a semi. The blaring horn has me snapping back to reality, and I decide that it’s too dangerous for me to be on the highway right now. Taking the nearest exit, I careen down a side street.
It’s dark outside, and the houses are all lit up with porchlights and lamps in the windows as I ride past. I’m cruising past a small park, getting farther and farther away from where my father wanted me to be tonight, when I hear something that has my heart beating faster.
