Page 53 of Twisted Obsession
When Dmitri escorted me to the patio, I saw he truly wasn’t exaggerating about the dinner being special. The view that unfolded before my eyes surpassed anything I could have imagined. Delicate fairy lights were intricately strung above a charming canopy, casting a gentle glow over a beautifully set table for two. Soft, melodic music wafted through the air, its source elusive yet enchanting. As I glanced around, my eyes were drawn to the mesmerizing array of floating candles that graced the surface of the swimming pool, their flickering flames dancing elegantly on the water. The entire scene was the epitome of romance, a breathtaking tableau that was far beyond anything I had ever witnessed. It was a moment steepedin unexpected beauty, especially from Dmitri, who had never before revealed this tender side of himself.
To say I was overwhelmed as the sumptuous spread was brought out to us was an understatement. The moment the man in the crisp, white chef’s uniform placed the exquisite fine China plate before me, I was captivated by the dish’s artistry. The presentation was a masterpiece, an elegant riot of colors and textures that I had never witnessed before.
“I hope it is to your liking. I have prepared Binchotan Charred beef striploin, Broccoli di Ciccio, Ramp-stuffed Shallots, and Chimicucurri-Bordelaise sauce,” he articulated with a lilting French accent, his voice as smooth as the sauce he described.
“It sounds delicious,” I replied, smoothing the soft fabric of my cloth napkin as I laid it across my lap, anticipation tingling at my fingertips.
“Bon appétit.” With a graceful turn, the chef retreated through the double doors that swung open to the conservatory as he told us to enjoy our meal.
As we savored the exquisite meal, each bite a symphony of flavors dancing on my palate, disquiet lingered at the edges of my thoughts. It had been gnawing at me ever since I had seen Dmitri covered in blood—a stark reminder of the world we inhabited.
“Earlier,” I began cautiously, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why were you covered in blood?” My heart pounded as I watched him carefully set down his knife and fork, placing his hands deliberately on the table, each movement measured and controlled.
“I had hoped you would never see the darker side of my business, but sometimes it’s unavoidable,” he admitted, his eyes dark and unfathomable. “But to answer your question, one of my men chose to give his loyalty elsewhere, therefore, he needed to pay the price for his betrayal.”
“So, you killed him. Just like that,” I responded, my voice steady despite the chill that crept up my spine. I was no stranger to the Bratva’s unforgiving code, where disloyalty was met with swift and brutal consequences.
“Yes, just like that. He knew what his fate would be.” Dmitri resumed eating, slicing into his steak with precision, as if eliminating a life was as mundane as squashing a bug beneath his shoe, his demeanor as composed as ever amidst the undercurrent of violence that simmered just beneath the surface.
Placing his napkin over his plate, Dmitri pushed his chair from the table and stood. “Dance with me,” he asked as he held his hand out to me.
Rising, I placed my napkin neatly on the table and entwined my fingers with his. As he wrapped his arm around my waist, drawing me closer with a tender pull, a shiver of electricity raced up my spine, culminating at the sensitive tips of my nipples. His touch always had that undeniable effect on me.
Resting my head on his strong shoulder, I let the melody of the songs wash over us, seamlessly flowing from one to the next. His scent, a heady mix of musk and cashmere, uniquely him, was utterly intoxicating. My hands found their way to his firm chest, and I gazed into his eyes, losing myself in their depths.
His lips descended upon mine, rendering me motionless against the rhythm of the music. Desire swam through my mind, and although I should have pulled away, I found myself responding to his kiss.
With a graceful motion, he wrapped his arms around me, lifting me effortlessly as he carried me to the expansive patio bed. I surrendered to his lead, allowing myself to momentarily escape the internal conflict waging war with my emotions.
Instinctively, my legs encircled his waist, and I felt the unmistakable pressure building beneath his trousers.
He moaned against my lips, a low, primal sound. “Now for dessert,” he murmured.
Words failed me; I could only give in.
I could only yield.
I could only submit.
As his mouth traced a path down my neck, leaving a trail of fervent kisses, I tilted my head, offering him more. With a swift, decisive motion, he tore away the flimsy barrier of my dress and thong, his hands claiming my breast, his mouth enveloping my nipple until a moan escaped me.
“I need you,kukolka. I need you now more than ever,” he groaned, his breath hot against my skin.
A surprised squeal escaped my lips as he gently tugged my nipple between his teeth.
“I need to hear you scream my name,” he insisted, his voice a raw demand.
In a fluid motion, Dmitri discarded his pants and, without warning, thrust into my core. My lips formed a perfect ‘O’, a scream welling up and spilling forth, awakening something wild and untamed within him.
His eyes blazed with a fiery intensity, devil-like desire, the kind that invaded my dreams and made me plead for mercy. Yet, I was helpless to resist.
I was utterly captivated by the way he revered my body, igniting sensations I had never experienced before. He showered my skin with kisses like a gentle storm, moving with powerful purpose, making me cry out his name.
“Dmitri.”
He thrust so forcefully against me that I could feel him, as if he reached deep inside my very core. The warmth of his essence flooded into me, and within mere moments, he withdrew. Before words could form on my lips, his tongue was already dancing skillfully from side to side across my clit.
“Oh my—”
