I think I got enough interest to warrant another chapter – who are we kidding, these two have to get it on.
Just so everyone is aware; I am literally just writing at the moment and updating. My other stories are being spat out as soon as I finish a chapter, and the same with this one. I am reading through once upon completion and updating without editing. Literally finished this three minutes ago. Please, be kind to my poor spelling and grammar.
Rose was furious. It wasn't about the kissing or Dimitri's sudden withdrawal – it was more about his excuses "I shouldn't be taking advantage of you." Like she wasn't fucking capable of making her own decisions. Like he thought she wouldn't be making them if she were older.
How could he still think of her as a child, after kissing her so passionately? How could his hands roam her body so intimately, in a way that made her so hot and wet that she trembled under them, and then he pull away and pretend that he was taking advantage of her?
A small voice in the back of her mind tried to reason with her; he was her mentor, and in a position of power. He could very easily have coerced her into those kisses. Every touch was an adult indulging a child in something completely inappropriate. But she didn't believe that. For one thing, she was pretty sure she spent more time coercing him into kisses, begging and teasing until he caved. She wasn't a child – she'd seen and handled things so many adults hadn't, and she'd been forced to mature because of it. She'd died for fucks sake. And besides if he were trying to take advantage of her, he wouldn't be holding back so often, or trying to halt her advances.
But he did. At every fucking turn, he lips were telling her how wrong it was while his eyes betrayed his heart. How was she supposed to deal with that?
She'd been sitting at her desk for ten minutes now, breathing hard with her head in her hands, her elbows propped on the surface. Her heart hadn't calmed down, and her ego hadn't had time to heal, but she knew she couldn't sit here any longer.
Knowing that she would be daring fate by breaking curfew again, she stood and began to pace her small room with energetic impatience. She felt like an animal in here, caged and torturing herself with thoughts of freedom. She longed for the heat of the sun.
Growling out swear words that would make a sailor blush, she grabbed her towel and toiletries from her nightstand. A hot shower might work out the kinks in her shoulders, and drum those negative thoughts out of her head.
She slammed her door behind her, but didn't bother to lock it – she was the only Novice on this floor anyway, which guaranteed her privacy in a lot of ways.
The showers were at the end of the hall, and unused by anyone but her. Her habit of taking her toiletries back to her room was one from Portland that she couldn't break. Besides, she figured the cleaning staff might throw her stuff away if she left it there.
The bathroom was old, with only three cubicles facing the door. They were long and narrow, with no shelves and barely enough room to lift your elbows. The bathrooms on the ground floor had been renovated, but Rose was pretty sure that was to encourage students to stay where the matron could keep an eye on them.
She turned the heat on high, and stepped back to let the water warm up. She shed her clothes out in the open, and studied her body in the mirror above the sink. She gotten a few bruises the other day from a spar with Yuuri, and a particularly impressive graze on her knee from making contact with the pavement in her gym shorts, but otherwise she'd come out of this week remarkably unscathed.
Sometimes she thought back on how she'd looked back in Portland, when she'd been tanned from time in the sunlight, and her bruises had only come about as a result of her own stupidity.
Her skin had been clear, and soft, and not mottled with scratches and bruises. It had been beautifully browned, enhancing her natural desert-like complexion. She supposed she hadn't been as fit – her body now was toned and muscular in a way that pleased her, but also made her worry that maybe she wasn't feminine enough anymore. Maybe her well-defined abs, which most days she took pride in, were too predominant to be beautiful…
She shook her head. She'd come here to get rid of those thoughts. And besides, those muscles were what would keep Lissa safe one day. She wouldn't trade that for beauty.
She stepped into the shower without bothering to close the cubicle door – why should she? She was the only one that ever came up here.
It had taken Dimitri a few minutes to pull down the precarious pile of equipment to fish out Rose's bag, and a few more to rearrange the room so that everything fit nicely.
With everything neatly tucked away there was significantly more space. If the Novices had just put it like this in the first place, he and Rose would never have ended up in such a compromising position…
No.
He couldn't blame anyone but himself. He was the one that had so readily allowed her to seduce him. He was the one that had indulged her, following her to the gym instead of getting her in trouble like he should have. He was the one thinking about her all the time, day and night, wondering if her hair was still as soft, her lips as delicious…
Sure, Rose was advancing on him, but he should have been able to refuse her. Somewhere, he knew that he would be able to if she really pushed him – he just didn't want to.
There were so many excuses he could make to justify his feelings, so many reasons he could list to prove he was in love with her and that he wasn't just a pervert creeping on a seventeen year old girl. But at the end of the day, he had to keep telling himself the same thing. That she was seventeen, and he was her mentor, and that nothing could happen between them.
His feelings on the matter – or hers – didn't make a damn bit of difference.
And that knowledge made his heart ache so desperately that he wanted to scream. How could he feel this way about her, so strongly, and have no way to show it? How had she reduced him so easily to this one weakness, when he'd spent so long being bulletproof? He didn't know, but she had.
He spent a long time holding her bag in his hands, wondering what to do with it.
He could leave it here, which he knew was the right thing to do. Or… Or he could take it to her. Maybe he could apologise again, although he was sure she was sick of hearing him say it. He couldn't shake the sound of her voice, ringing in his ears as she told him not to bother, or the pain in her eyes when he'd rejected her. He had to do something.
He pulled the bag over his shoulder and made for the door.
He was sure Rose would have made it back by now, and he hoped she hadn't gotten caught. That would only serve to make him feel twice as bad, although he knew she'd been the one to break curfew.
The matron of the girls dorm let him pass without so much as a nod – she had her head down over her crossword, and Dimitri didn't have to wonder how Rose kept sneaking out. He doubted she bothered to use the stairs, however.
Her room was on the second floor, something he'd been sure to memorise when Rose had first come back to the Academy. He'd been pretty sure she was going to make a run for it with Lissa, and he'd gathered all the intel he could. He'd even paused under her window on patrols just to see if she'd try to climb out of it. In those days, he hadn't trusted her at all.
For all his familiarity with Rose, he'd never actually been in her room.
He knocked on the door cautiously, not sure if he'd given her enough time to change and go to sleep – it had been almost half an hour since he'd sent her from the gym. He didn't want to wake her.
There was no response, but there was light shining under the door, and he knew that she didn't sleep with her blinds open. He tried the handle, and it opened silently.
"Rose?" he called, not wanting to catch her by surprise. She'd almost kicked him in the stomach earlier, and he didn't want to imagine what kind of damage she could do with makeshift weapons such as table lamps.
He didn't find out. The room was empty.
He hesitated, knowing he should drop the bag on her bed and leave – that was the responsible thing to do. But he'd come here to make sure she was alright, and to apologise again and again until she could believe him. Until she got so angry that she casually peered into his soul, like she had so many times before, and saw how much pain it caused him every time he pushed her away.
He stepped into her room.
He didn't have to wonder if she'd made it back because her jacket was on the floor. He wanted to pick it up and drape it over the back of her desk chair, but somehow he thought Rose might find that insulting. He smiled at the thought.
He did a slow lap around the room, observing everything that was Rose. From her half-completed assignment and her unmade bed, to the pictures of her and Lissa stuck haphazardly to the wall. Everything here whispered to his soul; This is her.
There weren't any personal effects, like special sheets or posters, but there was something so personal about the space. Her clothes were piled in front of her wardrobe instead of folded inside of it, and a detention slip was half hidden under the bed. He couldn't stop himself from smiling, from enjoying every bit of warmth and familiarity this environment was providing. He even allowed himself to sit on the bed.
It was nothing like the coldness he felt in his own room.
He was contemplating lying down when the door opened and Rose entered with her clothes and toiletries bag clutched in hand, wearing nothing but a towel.
Dimitri made a move to stand, but only managed to move forward on the bed before her appearance stopped him dead in his tracks.
His mouth went dry, his mind blank, and his heart thundered in his ears. She looked at him in surprise, her lips parting to form a perfect 'o' as she stood framed in the doorway. Her hair was damp and spilling over her shoulders messily, in such a way that he couldn't help but want to wrap his hands up in it. Her beautiful long legs were on display, toned with muscles he knew she'd earned from hours of dedicated training. He wanted them wrapped around him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, breaking the silence.
Dimitri didn't trust himself to stand or speak, and he swallowed to encourage some moisture in his mouth. "I just… brought your bag," he mumbled. It suddenly felt like such a stupid reason to be here, sitting on her bed.
Her expression softened when she saw her gym bag on the floor by her desk. She had been angry with him, but she knew he was here because he cared. He could have easily left it at the gym for her to pick up, but he hadn't. He was here… on her bed.
She wasn't sure if it was his unexpected show of concern and affection, or simply the risqué nature of their encounter, but she wanted him to stay there.
"Thank you," she said, smiling. She wanted him to know she wasn't angry. She closed the door softly, and the click of it locking behind her had Dimitri's breath coming sharp and shallow. They were both wondering what she was doing – it felt like a dream. Like something they'd both imagined, but had never allowed themselves to hope for.
Dimitri still couldn't bring himself to stand. This all felt so surreal, he could almost justify thinking it was a fantasy.
"Do you mind if I change?" she asked innocently, like she wasn't asking if she could stand naked before him.
"I…" He couldn't think, let alone speak.
Rose had never been one to stand around overthinking a situation. She dropped her clothes and toiletries into the nightstand drawer, and smiled to herself when she noticed how Dimitri's eyes had tracked her across the room. His gaze was darting intently over every exposed bit of her body, his position on the edge of her bed rigid. She turned her back to him, with her heart thumping painfully in her chest, and began to lower her towel.
"Stop me," she challenged over her shoulder, a hint of playfulness about her voice.
He knew he should, but still he sat frozen. If he just let this happen, would it really be so terrible? "Rose, you know this isn't right," he found himself saying. He didn't know where that voice of reason had come from, but he damned it to hell.
Rose pulled up her towel, the top of which had only just begun to brush her lower back, and spun to face him. She looked furious.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she hissed, closing the space between them to shove at his shoulder with one hand – the other was firmly holding her towel to her chest. "What are you even doing here? Why did you wait for me?"
Her anger, although justified, only stirred his own.
Dimitri found the strength to stand, and he towered over her, seizing her wrist and holding it away from his chest. "Can't I do anything for you without it being about sex?" he demanded angrily. Did she really think he'd come here to seduce her? "Why are you always pushing this?"
For a moment, Rose looked genuinely speechless. Then the rage started to gather in her eyes. "I'm always pushing this?" she cried. "Am I the one going between hot and cold every fucking day? Am I the one that can't control myself, then says it's nothing? Am I the one that kisses you like that, then says it's all a mistake and walks away?"
"Oh?" he scoffed, unable to keep his anger from boiling over. She was accusing him of making moves on her. God, she just got under his skin like no one else. "Like what?"
"Like this!"
She kissed him, and he kissed her back fiercely, abandoning reason in the face of his fury. If this was what she wanted, he'd give it to her. Did she want him to lose control, to prove that he wanted her so desperately that he'd come here to claim her? Fine. He'd happily show her how out of control she could get him.
He tangled his free hand in her hair and dominated her mouth with his furious kisses, fingers tugging until she pulled her lips from his, gasping, and allowed him access to her neck. He didn't pepper her with soft kisses and gentle words – he ravished her, sucking and biting until she forgot her towel and it dropped to the floor between them. Her moans, so recklessly torn from her lips, aroused him until he thought he might go mad if he didn't touch her more intimately. He released her wrist, and pulled her by her waist until her hips met his.
His hard cock was pressed against her, his every movement so primal and aggressive it was making her dizzy with lust. She was getting what she wanted, and God, she loved it. She loved him.
"Dimitri," she moaned, her hands freely roaming his body. He felt a shudder run through him when she said his name – he wanted to make her scream it at the ceiling.
"Roza," he whispered in answer, before bringing his lips back to hers. His anger had all but melted away, leaving nothing but his carnal desire for her in its wake. Her voice was bringing him back to his senses, enough to realize that there was nothing left to cover her gorgeous body.
He couldn't bring himself to pull away from her lips to admire her, so he let his hands roam freely. He started by cupping her face gently, lovingly, because he wanted her to know how deeply he felt for her. But he couldn't contain himself for long, and his hands brushed down her neck, across her shoulders… she shivered as his fingers skimmed the sides of her full breasts, her nipples taut and pebbled before he'd even truly touched her.
He teased her as long as his lust would allow, tracing the shape of her breasts and brushing lightly over her nipples until she was pressing herself into his hands. He smiled against her lips as he cupped her breasts, his gentle massage juxtaposed with the rough way he pinched at tugged at her nipples. Rose writhed helplessly against him, pulling away from his kisses to gasp and moan under his practiced fingers.
He took his opportunity to appreciate her body, and was overwhelmed with the desire to kiss everywhere he could reach. He pulled her down onto the bed, and she straddled him without any of the shyness he would have expected from a virgin. He smiled, unable to help himself as his fingers wandered down to the curls between her thighs.
"Do you still want me to touch you, Roza?" he breathed. She hovered over him, a sinful smile on her lips.
"Make me cum, Dimitri," she whispered back, pressing her hot, dripping core against his cock, straining against his pants.
He hissed out a curse word, and had to fight the urge to slip out of his pants and have her ride him until they both came. His fingers found her folds, stroking teasingly, spreading her wetness. He could feel it against her thighs, and couldn't help the smug satisfaction that overcame him.
"You still get so wet for me, Roza," he said admiringly. "I remember that."
"What else do you remember?" she asked him, thrusting against his teasing fingers. She felt so helpless underneath his control, even though she was the one on top.
"The taste of you," he murmured. "I want to taste you again."
She wasn't about to deny him the chance to pleasure her, not when his fingers were dancing so lightly around her clit. She let him roll the two of them so that he rested over her, and she had the presence of mind to force his duster from his shoulders. He tore it off and let it fall to the ground with her towel.
"You're shirt too," she muttered, pulling at the buttons. He pulled it over his head without bothering to undo it. Rose felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of him – it had been months since she'd seen him shirtless, and God, it was just as good as she remembered.
Years of training had given him a lean, hard physique, his muscles moving so distinctly under his skin. He shivered when she ran her hands down his stomach, tracing the lines of his hip bones, down underneath the waistband of his pants.
She pulled at his belt and slid it free, dropping it over the side of the bed.
"No more," he whispered. If she continued touching him, or removed any more clothing, he knew he wasn't going to be able to give her the pleasure he wanted to.
In a very un-Rose-like way, she listened. He kissed his way down her body, getting distracted by her breasts. His teeth on her nipple sent an electric shock straight to her pussy, and she cried out, on hand tangling in his hair, pulling it free of its elastic band.
He sucked gently, rolling its hardness around his mouth, caressing her with his tongue. Her other breast he'd captured in his hand, and was cupping and squeezing roughly. Her moans and breathless curses were making his cock ache painfully against his pants, and he questioned how he'd been insane enough to stop her from taking them off.
He bit down on her nipple, hard enough for her to cry out and arch off the bed towards him, and then massaged her with his tongue until she whimpered, tugging at his hair for more.
He pulled himself away from her breasts and kissed down her stomach to her slit, and she trembled in his hands as he kissed the inside of her thighs.
"Goddamnit, Dimitri, get to the fucking point," she gasped lifting her hips toward him.
He chuckled darkly, but obliged her, running his tongue along her slit, just as teasingly as he had done with his fingers. She hissed in frustration, pulling at his hair to move him closer.
"And what is the point, Roza?" he asked her, his voice thick with his Russian accent. He moved his lips to her clit, and his tongue flicked roughly against it, making her cry out and forget his question. He'd wanted to tease her longer, but his cock was throbbing aggressively, and he knew he couldn't wait to have her. He would make her cum, and then he would take her.
He continued to tongue her sensitive clit, sucking and circling the nerve bundle until he had her gasping, her every breath pulled from her shuddering lungs by the blessing that was his lips between her legs. She urged him on, her fingers in his hair getting rougher, more urgent the closer he brought her. When he could feel that she was close, he brought his fingers back to her opening and pushed one digit inside her. She moaned wildly as he pumped it inside of her, long sure strokes that she panted for. She was so wet, he was sure she'd take his cock easily, but he pushed another finger inside of her to be sure.
He pumped his fingers in and out of her, stretching her while his tongue worked on her clit. She was so close to cumming… he curled his fingers, searching for that sweet spot at the top of her pussy. It became so clear when he found it, his name and blasphemies slipping from her lips, her hips bucking against him with every thrust of his artful fingers. Her belly clenched desperately, looking for the release she was so close to. And then every nerve in her body, from her fingers in his hair to her toes tangled in the sheet was lit on fire, and a tense thread inside of her snapped, its recoil sending an aching wave through her pussy that had her clenching at his fingers.
He let her come down from her orgasm gently, despite the wild desire that gripped him. She could see his control slipping as she steadied her breathing, see how much he wanted to ravage her. She wasn't about to deny him.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, begging her for a reason.
She shook her head. "Don't stop. I want to feel that again."
"I don't know how long I'll last," he admitted, pressing a kiss to her stomach.
"It doesn't have to be tonight. Tomorrow night at the latest, though," she said slyly.
He smiled and brought himself level with her. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her, his hands already beginning to travel sensually over her body, squeezing at her curves and caressing the most sensitive parts of her.
Rose found herself breathless again in seconds, the air around them thick and hot with wild hunger. She brushed her fingers down his chest, reveling in his soft groans, and undid the buttons of his trousers.
"Very sure."
Three-shot, bitch.