Page 21 of Dancing With Delusion

“Distraction,” she says eagerly, cutting me off, and I smirk at her desperation.

Pushing her down on the bed, I bend her over the edge so her arse is in the air. I run my hand over her backside, and she pushes back, letting me know she’s waiting for me to begin.

I slap her left cheek with my hand, but she doesn’t even release a murmur. Taking the belt, I step back slightly before I bring it down on her arse. The welt shows immediately, bringing me a sense of calm. The first strike is hard enough to jolt her forward, but she wastes no time repositioning herself and bracing for the next strike.

I give her another, the sound bouncing around the room as it connects with her skin. This time, she groans in satisfaction, so I repeat it in the exact same spot, shuddering when I see the little pebbles of blood rising to the surface.

I grab her hair roughly at the base of her skull to draw her body up against mine. I press my cheek to hers, and she smiles in satisfaction. “Are you wet for me, my krasota?” She nods, pulling forward slightly so my grip on her hair tightens. I yank her back to where I want her. “Words, Victoria. Is your cunt dripping wet for me?”

“Yes, Sir.” I release my hold on her hair, and she moans at the loss of contact.

Using the belt, I make quick work of restraining her hands to the ring that’s hanging from the top beam of the four-poster bed. I pull it tight enough so she’s stretched up on her tiptoes.

Leaning closer, I bite down on her nipple. It pebbles between my teeth, and she sighs, letting her head fall back.

I guide my hand between her thighs. She’s fucking soaking. I run my fingers through her folds and insert a finger into her tight pussy. She bucks against my hand, trying to gain more friction. She whimpers with each grind on my hand.

I take a step back, and her eyes shoot open at the loss of contact. She pulls on the restraints. “You look fucking perfect like this, on display for me.”

I drop down onto my knees and grab both her legs, guiding them over my shoulders so they’re wrapped around my neck. She pushes her pussy forward, eagerly directing me. “Patience, my krasota.” I smile up at her before blowing gently on her glistening cunt.

“Please, Dmitry,” she begs as she lifts herself again. She smells fucking divine. I nip at her clit and trace my tongue through her folds before pushing it into her pussy. I feel her clench as she throws her head back, pushing her hips closer to my face, her legs clamping my head.

I suck on her clit as her legs begin to shake and her juices coat my chin. I continue to fuck her with my mouth while she rides out her orgasm.

“I need to be inside you, my krasota,” I murmur against her. I slide up her body, releasing the belt from the loop. Her arms flop down, falling around my neck. I kiss her, parting her lips with my tongue, and she hums her approval at the taste of herself.

My cock is solid, and the only thing it craves right now is to be buried inside Victoria. I lift her in my arms and line myself at her entrance, lowering her down onto me and impaling her. She’s so fucking wet right now as she glides effortlessly over my shaft, her walls already choking me.

I continue to lift her at a punishing pace as she buries her face into my neck. Her legs begin to shake as she comes a second time. I thrust deeper, and her cunt squeezes me as I grunt out my own release.

Tori

Istare up at the ceiling, my mind thinking over how much has changed since I pushed my way into Dmitry’s life. Most of the session with Harriet was spent talking about how I met Dmitry. It was an easy topic. And a way to be eased in, I think.

Dmitry’s hand runs down my back. “You’re thinking way too loud,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Why are we in your bed?” I ask.

He pulls me tighter to him and guides my leg so it’s resting over his. “Where else would we sleep, Victoria?” He sounds amused.

“Well, it’s just, we never really discussed all this. I’ve just kind of moved in.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“No. I just feel like I’ve pushed myself into your life and your home. Did you actually want me here?”

He sits slightly, his brows pinched together. “Where’s this coming from, Victoria? Has someone said something to you?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Because if any of my men have?—”

“Why would your men say anything? Don’t they want me here?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, pushing my leg from him and sitting. “Tell me what’s going on.”

I’m confused by his sudden change in mood. “Nothing. Really, Dmitry, I was simply asking.”

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