Sweet Tarte – Sweet Enough to Eat
His body is hard beneath his suit. My softness molding against him as my breath catches in my throat, and his teeth once again pinch the skin of my neck, sending bolts of electric lust exploding down all the way to my toes.
When Dimitri releases my neck, we are nose to nose, a rumble coming from his chest as his hands rest on my cheeks.
“This feels like it’s not real.” My voice shakes. “But I also feel so alive. Like I’ve just woken up from a coma. Is that crazy? Is this crazy?”
“It’s crazy. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It doesn’t mean anything, except it’s extraordinary. I want you so much, I don’t even understand it.”
“Me either.” I whisper, my hands running down his chest, my imagination conjuring the hard muscle there into my mind, imagining what his skin might taste like. What all of him might taste like…
“When you walked in, I saw you. I imagined this…” He pauses. “It took me by surprise, I’ve never reacted to anyone this way. I knew I had to have you, I just wasn’t sure how I would make it happen. I never thought it would be this fast, but it’s right. Nothing that feels like this would be anything but right.”
The heat between us intensifies as he kisses his way lower, pulling the neck of my sweater to my shoulder, licking and biting as I arch into him, the wetness between my legs undeniable and beginning to make the insides of my thighs slick where they press together.
When Dimitri’s face comes back in front of mine, his eyes are dark and intense. He lowers a hand down the back of my thigh, finding the hem of my skirt and pressing it upward, making me tense and gasp.
He tilts his head as I shiver, licking my lips, unsure how this is all going to go, but knowing I have to tell him this is my first. He will be my first.
“You are sure?” He asks again, and I nod, feeling the growing bulge against my body as his eyes fix on mine. “Has anyone touched you before?”
I pinch my lips together, shaking my head and whispering my answer. “I have. No one else. I’ve never done anything, not really. A few rushed kisses at a high school party once.”
His hand moves up my inner thigh as something like a smile lights his eyes.
“You are everything, Victoria. Tell me what you want, right now…”
My throat is tight, but his question is so sincere, and for whatever reason I want to answer him truthfully.
“I want to know what it feels like to be touched.” He doesn’t answer, so I clarify. “By you. Please, touch me.”
I adjust my legs to give him better access to the throbbing parts of me. The parts that are screaming his name in pulses and decadent wetness.
“I will. I’m going to touch you. Taste you. Own you. Possess you. Adore you. I hope you are ready for me. I do nothing halfway. When I want something, I go after it with everything I am. I am not an easy man, but I am loyal. I will give you everything, my heart. Everything I have…”
The way he talks, with no fear or shame, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever encountered. It’s not enough that he looks like sex in a suit, or that he smells like every dream I didn’t know I should have had, but his confidence leaves me melting. And even if I wanted to protest, I don’t think I could.
His hand inches up my leg and I count the seconds, trying to stay in the moment as well as stay standing as my legs quiver and turn to Jell-O.
When his hand grazes upward before finally pausing at this magical spot where my thigh meet my pussy, and just lingers there, I think I might scream.
He kisses me, slow this time, his tongue moving over my teeth before he bites at my lower lip, pulling it outward as I gasp, the warmth of his unmoving hand driving me crazy.
“God, please…” I beg, wiggling my hips as I try to move his hand to where my clit is, willing him forward. “I want you to touch me…”
“Understand, Heart, I’ll touch you how it pleases me. When it pleases me. In ways it pleases me. You will become my sweet, virgin whore.”
His words pierce directly into the most erotic parts of me, pushing me to a shuddering mini orgasm. I never though of it before…being called something like that. And if I had, I am sure I would have expected myself to haul off and punch the offending mouth that spoke such an insult.
But, noooooooo.
He called me a whore.
His whore.
And I liked it.
Jesus, America, what is happening to me?
My heart is beating so fast I can barely catch my breath. I want him to move his hand, for fuck’s sake I want that, but I don’t dare shift or try to manipulate things because I can feel his control and it’s only making me more crazed to be forced to wait.