Page 67 of Defiled Innocence

“Yes!”

“Not good enough, say it,” he orders, thrusting harder.

The burn of my body stretching around him makes my need even greater.

“Please, Dmitri. Let me come,” I beg him, my hands fisting in my hair.

I don’t dare disobey him right now.

“Try again,” he orders, driving harder into me as he pushes the vibrator against my clit.

“Allow! Please allow me to come! Please!”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Come, baby. Come hard.”

He drops the vibrator, grabbing my hips with both hands and pulling me toward him as he plows into me.

“Oh, god. Oh!” I come unglued. Every nerve ending in my body fires off and the waves of pleasure ripple through me at an intense rate.

“Fuck. Fuck,” he chants as he drives into me again and again until he stills.

His eyes widen and he grunts as his own release carries him away, his forehead dropping to mine.

My body hums as we stay like this for long moments.

Slowly, I ease my arms down and frame his face with my hands.

“You’re cruel,” I whisper, lifting his head to kiss him.

There’s no heat or accusation in my words. I’m too tired, too satisfied to really hold a grudge against him.

“I did tell you I’d teach you.” He kisses me back. It’s different than before.

The possession is still there, and the hunger, but it’s more intimate now. He’s not trying to grind me beneath his heel. There’s no power struggle here. Just a man kissing his wife.

“Did you learn?” he asks after breaking the kiss.

“I think so,” I sigh, snuggling into his neck. “But you might have to go over it again in the morning. You know, just to be sure.”

Dmitri

“Why would a man want to have three wives?” I hand Amelia a cup of hot tea as I take my seat beside her on the couch in the media room.

It’s been years since I’ve spent any time in here watching anything, much less a reality television show.

For the last four nights, I’ve found her here watching these people live out their lives for all the world to see. I tell her not to wait up for me on the nights I have to be at the club, but each night I find her in here.

It helps her relax, she’s told me.

And since I’ve been able to move her focus from her brother’s possible embezzling to the summer carnival the center puts on every summer, she needs time to relax at night. The woman works too hard.

“Four. He has four. Well, he did. He’s down to two, or is it one?” She takes a sip of her tea then sets it on the table next to her.

“He’s losing wives?” I place my beer on the coffee table.

“Yes, it’s a whole thing. He has a favorite wife, and you’re not supposed to do that, so that one,” she points to the screen as a blonde woman sitting in a chair comes on for her interview, “left him, then another one is on her way out, and then there’s the first wife who he hasn’t loved in a long time, but he wouldn’t tellher. He just kept dragging her along, but I think she’s getting it now.”

I watch her expression soften as she explains how this man has managed to mess up three of his four relationships.

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