Page 13 of Between Desire and Denial
“Now, thinking and knowing are two very different things. You need toknowI’m the best you ever had, Olive.” He hovered over me, completely naked, with his gaze locked on mine. Normally, his green eyes were a light misty color, so light, so laid-back and relaxed.
I wasn’t sure who Dimitri was as a person. I knew he was exceptionally smart by how far he’d come professionally, but he didn’t really associate with those he didn’t need to. He avoided confrontation, and he enjoyed himself to the extremes. He didn’t seem to worry about much, but here, his gaze was darker, determined, and full of a desire to prove his point.
He moved down my body slowly and lapped at my chest, taking his time to swirl his tongue around each of my nipples.
“Please hurry,” I whined. I’d told him I didn’t have a handle on my sex drive.
“Patience, Olive.”
“I don’t have patience. I just told you that.” I clawed at his shoulders now.
“Should I teach you what it feels like?”
“Let’s just have sex, please.”
He chuckled and let me ride his fingers faster. He kept with the pace of my hips as I gyrated on him, but I wanted more. “If you need to get off, go ahead, Olive. We have all night.”
“All night for what?” I was panting as his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves that probably didn’t need any more attention but still loved to get it all the same. “I just want to come. You said you wanted me to come again, so let’s just do it.”
“No.” He shook his head against my stomach, and I gasped at the sensation of his five-o’clock shadow there. He kissed down further, and I felt my legs trying to close, unsure of how close I wanted him to get to my pussy. “I didn’t say that. I said I wanted to taste your pussy.”
Having him fuck me was one thing, eating me out was another. Rufford wanted nothing to do with that. “I just think it’s easier if—”
“Do I look like a man who wants an easy fuck, Olive?” he said, now right above my clit. I practically felt his breath there and stopped rolling against his fingers to look down at him. Vivid green eyes held mine, and I wanted to believe there was hunger in them.
“You look like someone who could have one,” I whispered out. “I think any woman would sleep with you, seeing you like this.”
“And yet I’m about to eat out my best friend’s bridesmaid, knowing the repercussions are going to be pretty damn bad.”
“We’re not telling her.” I hurried to make that clear. “We’re not telling a single soul.”
“Oh really?” He worked my sex, and I whimpered at his large, calloused fingers gliding over me, the motion was slow, excruciatingly so. Then he brought those two fingers to his mouth and slid his tongue between them, not looking away fromme for a single second. “You taste like you have goddamn honey inside you, Olive. I get you all night. Why would I hide it when I’m enjoying it? When it’s nothing to be ashamed of?”
“Because… this is just one night. And it would only complicate our friendships with Kee.”
He growled against me. “But it’s the best night, right?”
“I think so,” I whimpered because his mouth feathered over my clit as I said it.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could barely even form a sentence. He nipped me then, and I convulsed against him, my thighs clamping down on his ears.
“You know so. Tell me.” And then he sucked on my clit hard before his tongue slid down to my pussy. He pulled back to swear and say, “You drip this sweet honey all for me, Olive. So fucking sweet that I’m going to lick up every last drop of it. Make sure when you come, you say what I want to hear.”
“What do you want to hear?” I didn’t care. I’d tell him anything. I’d lost my mind. I was clawing at his dark hair now, trying to get him to finish what he’d started.
“Say I’m the best sex you’ve ever had. That you know it. Me and no one else.”
“Jesus, you’re egotistical.”
“You think so?” He chuckled, then his tongue slid into the most sensitive part of me. He moved it fast, like he knew it’s what I needed, and his fingers worked my clit, my ass, my body in a way I wasn’t used to.
Dimitri had perfected whatever this was. If there was a class for pleasuring women, he could have had a doctorate in it. I should have been embarrassed with the mewling I did, the arching, the clawing, but he egged me on.
Every time he’d pull away from my pussy to work his fingers in me some other way, he’d tell me, “That’s it. Take what you want. This orgasm is yours. Look at the work you’re putting infucking my hand. You deserve to feel good. Feel fucking perfect. Take what you want.”
I screamed out right as he curled his fingers in me, and the blinding euphoria shot through me.
He didn’t hesitate or let up. He pushed me further, sucking on my clit and pumping his fingers up and down so fast and hard that suddenly my body felt like it was going to implode.
