Sordid (Sordid 1)

I issued a nervous whine. Some of it was fear, and some of it was an emotion too scary to put a label to. He picked up the small, weird U-shaped object, stretched it open wide, and then eased the smaller end of it inside me.

I moaned with confusion. Pleasure and discomfort simultaneously, but then pleasure won out. The larger end fit tight up against my clit. Luka gave me half a smile, which I was beginning to recognize was his pleased look. My underwear was tugged back up in place, so I was effectively wearing the toy he’d halfway placed in my body.

It was surprising when he moved to the loveseat and sat down, digging his phone out of his back pocket. What was he doing? Hadn’t he said he wanted to make me come? The distance between us felt enormous and weird, which made no fucking sense. Shouldn’t I be relieved he was on the other side of the room, more interested in his phone than he was in—

“Oh!” I cried, arching up off the bed.

The toy inside me was vibrating. It started slow and the vibrations swelled, only to stop, then resume again. A relaxed rhythm of ebbing and flowing that brought my nerve endings to life. I stared at Luka, my mouth hanging slack.

“Are you,” I said between cycles of vibration, “controlling it?”

He teased a smile. “It’s an app on my phone.”

I turned my gaze up to the ceiling, bashful. It was almost as bad as being naked, him watching me while the vibrations made my cheeks flush warm with color. The powerful waves were strange and addicting.

It was tortuous pleasure as well. Just as it began to feel really good, the tempo would crest and cease, leaving me on a cliff. I’d slide slowly away from the edge, only for the next wave to pick me back up, carry me to the top, and repeat the pattern.

“You don’t own a vibrator?” he asked, like this was normal conversation. “I didn’t find one in your room.”

Oh my God. “No,” I said quickly between the pulsing waves, “I don’t.”

“Why not?”

The pleasure radiating from between my legs was . . . distracting. My mind wanted to focus on it, rather than Luka’s question. “Because I’m a virgin?” I threw it at him with attitude, only to realize my mistake. “I was.”

I didn’t have to look at him, not that I could anyway, to sense the victorious look splashed on his face.

“You’re saying virgins don’t like orgasms?”

“No, I’m saying,” I swallowed a breath and stifled a moan, “I didn’t need battery-operated help.” And, really. When was I supposed to use a vibrator? Besides being so busy I barely got seven hours of sleep, Avery never went to class. It meant she was always in the room, playing on the internet or watching TV.

“So you took care of yourself the old fashioned way?” he teased.

I ignored him as much as I possibly could, so I didn’t see his finger move. The pattern on the vibrator changed to greater peaks and valleys, with more time between the swells. It was so good, and so horrible at the same time. My greedy body shifted subtly, wanting more whenever the vibrations went into a lull, diminishing to practically nothing.

“I want to hear you say,” Luka continued, “you thought about me while you were sliding your fingers inside your pussy.”

I gasped inward, and blinked rapidly, focusing on the spot on the ceiling. There was no way in a million years I’d admit it, even if it was true.

He was persistent. “You said last night you’d spent the past two years thinking about me.” His deep, seductive voice invaded my head. “Did you, while you were touching yourself?”

My face flamed as hot as the sun, and even my ears burned. My mouth was a desert. I couldn’t keep my composure like this while he had me bound to the bed with not just rope, but with his filthy questions and dark gaze.

“Eyes on me,” he said. “Look at me, Addison.”

It was scary and yet strangely erotic. Luka appeared to sit comfortably in the oversized chair, one elbow resting on the armrest, and his phone in his hand. Although his posture was relaxed, he still had presence. There was a gravity to him, and I could feel his control from clear across the room. Through the window, it was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to set, so it cast long shadows over his handsome face. He looked powerful and confident, but most of all, transfixed by me.

“No lies,” he reminded. “Did you think about me when you touched yourself?”

His determined expression, coupled with the steady pulse of pleasure, was too much to handle, and I cracked. “Yes,” I whispered.

His smile began in one corner and spread across his lips like gasoline on a fire. I stopped breathing. Luka was smiling. Not a half-smile, but a bright, wide one where I could see his perfect teeth, and light in his eyes. It changed his whole face, morphing him into a man I barely recognized. Utterly gorgeous.