As incredible as Dimitri is with his fingers, that initial release doesn't even begin to take the edge off. My thighs are slick with the result of his expertise, and yet the craving for his warmth inside me seems to be growing by the minute. I don't think I'm even capable of forming full sentences, next thing I'll find myself drooling. So I decide to take matters into my own hands.
Sitting up brings me within reach of his face, and Dimitri grins as my mouth meets his. He matches the urgency of my kiss with infuriatingly gentle caresses of his lips. It's only after I loose a growl in his mouth that those long fingers tilt my head back, and he unleashes the full length of his tongue in my mouth. God, he's delicious.
I let out an involuntary groan as my insides turn molten. I need him. Now. But when my fingers fumble to unbutton his fly, I only manage to grasp the cool metal before he stops my hand. This is becoming tedious.
"Dimitri," I complain. I'm all but panting, that breathiness removing any trace of authority from my tone.
He just laughs quietly into my ear. The tickle of his breath sends goosebumps down my spine, but he interrupts my answering noise of protest.
"Did you think I was kidding, that night at the hotel?" His voice is soft and low, caressing my senses. The sound of it begins unraveling my few remaining threads of control. "I told you," he continues, "I want to take my time and learn what you like."
While his words are hot as hell, I can't help but feel a flutter of frustration. In my current state, I'd happily throw what I like out the window in order to see him lose control. I know he's telling me he's trying to focus entirely on my pleasure at the moment, but firstly he's already achieved that thoroughly, and secondly right now I'm pretty sure we'll both like what I have in mind.
Dimitri's hand is still grasping my wrist, stopping me from reaching the top of his fly. So I switch tactics before he can think to pull my hand away. I press my palm into the solid shape of him beneath the denim, relishing just how fucking hard he is. The noise he makes sends a thrill through me, and I flex my fingers around him to see if I can get him to do it again. Dimitri tips his head back, his hand now grinding mine against his fly. I'm only too happy to oblige, stroking and massaging and absorbing the motion of his hips as he seeks more pleasure. But with his head tilted back, the exposed column of his throat is too much of a temptation. So I trace my tongue up his neck, knowing that with the way he has me panting he can feel my breath wash across his skin.
"Roza," he breathes as I press a kiss under his chin. I continue along the side of his jaw, and my hand continues tracing him through the thick fabric while he holds me there. His fingers flex on my wrist, and he thrusts into my hand so hard it must be just shy of pain.
"Not so much fun when the tables are turned," I murmur before my teeth catch on his earlobe.
"Are you expecting me to admit defeat?" he replies. But I hear the heat in his voice, and it kicks my heart rate up a notch.
So I decide not to respond beyond tracing the shell of his ear with my mouth. And as I feel his skin slide past my lips, I mirror the motion with a slow stroke of my hand up the shape of his cock.
Dimitri's breath catches, a string of Russian spat from gritted teeth. A self-congratulatory smile spreads across my lips at the simple phrase he then manages to eke out.
"Fine. You win."
In a perfect world we wouldn't have moved from that spot on my sofa, or maybe I'd have had a large enough living room for Dimitri to simply spread me out on some plush fluffy rug. But alas, the sheer length of his limbs has me leading him down the hall to my bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothing in our wake.
And it really does go to show just how badly I want him. Because my rushed tidying efforts were entirely focused on the living room, and my bedroom has suffered the effects of my mood today.
Dimitri's hands are gripping my ass as we back through the doorway. And while I'm sure his attention is all on me, my gaze is drawn over his shoulder to where I left my sweaty running clothes in a heap next to the hamper.
"One second," I beg, sliding out of his hands.
An exasperated noise. "Roza, I really couldn't give a fuck if there's-" he breaks off as I bend over to snag the bundle of clothing. "You know what? Never mind. Maybe you want to grab that stuff in the corner too? I'll just be over here."
I hear him move in the room behind me, and I shoot a glare over my shoulder as I dump my stuff in the hamper. But my face goes slack at the sight of him perched on the edge of my bed.
He's watching me, dark eyes heavy with lust. Leaning back on one arm, he perfectly displays that mouthwatering body. As well as full view of the hand busy stroking up his length. Those long fingers form a fist at the tip, and his hips shift as he changes direction.
I feel my eyes widen as my focus zeroes in, following the movement down and down. And down. God. My mouth goes dry. Other places on the other hand... I didn't think it was physically possible for me to get wetter.
"Okay," I say hoarsely, "I don't think I care how neat my room is anymore."
The sight of him stroking himself while watching me has me melting. I'm transfixed, mesmerized by his confidence and that totally unguarded pleasure. It makes me want to add my hand to his, to feel the silk of his cock on my palm. Or in my mouth.
A sultry smile spreads across Dimitri's face, as though he can read my thoughts.
"Not that I object to you watching me like that," he says, "but I'd like you to know that my hand and I are pretty well acquainted by this point."
I grin. "I too am pretty well acquainted. Big fan of it's work."
"If you're such a fan of the warmup, the full show is going to have you screaming my name."
Fuck. I swallow. Is it possible to come through eye contact alone? Dimitri watches me squirm, but I'm rooted in place as I watch him. Like if i take a step, somehow I'll break the spell.
"Roza," Dimitri says softly. "Do you not think I've waited long enough to fuck you?"
And it's like something inside me unlocks at his words; some tether that was holding the last of my sanity intact. Because suddenly I'm aware of how much I need him. And the fact that I can't wait a second longer.
In a single moment I'm across the room kissing him, as though my personal point of gravity has relocated into the incredible man on my bed. He has me completely unraveled, desperate for every single point of contact between my bare skin and his. Every stroke of his tongue, every touch of his hands, every breath of his scent serves only to further fuel the fire at my core that only he can quench.
Dimitri lays me out on the bed with a level of care that inflates that warmth in my chest, even as my desire is burning me alive. My legs wrap around his hips and my ankles lock together over that fine ass of his. My thighs tighten to pull him to me, trying desperately to acquire that final point of contact. But as he braces his arms on either side of me and becomes my sky, a hollow sound rings out.
That's right. I left my guitar here when I went to open the door.
"One second," Dimitri says with a smile.
I hear him gently rest my guitar against the wall, and make a noise of impatience.
"You've never heard that good things come to those who wait?" he calls when I turn my head to glare at him. But maybe the look on my face is enough to convince him that there's only one way I'll tolerate being fucked with right now.
So he grabs my legs and pulls me to the edge of the mattress in one smooth motion, allowing my ankles to take up their previous position hitched around his ass. And at the sight of him poised exactly where I've wanted him since that moment in his dressing room, I take a second to brace myself. Because by the look of it, once he's inside me I might be able to feel him all the way at the back of my throat.
"Ready?" Dimitri's brown eyes hold mine.
"Please," I whisper.
He barely lets me finish the word before I feel his muscles flex and I'm suddenly full. That single thrust is delivered without mercy, and my back arches as he stretches me open. The delicious heat of him adds to the fire burning in my chest, but it's the growl he lets out as he gives me that final inch that sets me over the edge.
I was already so tight around him as he pushed into me that I barely have any warning before I explode. It's as though time stands still. My eyes scrunch closed, my hearing goes quiet, my touch is reduced to that single sensation at my very centre. I become pleasure incarnate for several burning seconds. And as he predicted, it's his name I scream. Dimitri grinds his hips into me as I peak, giving me every inch I could ask for and more.
It feels like I'm suspended for a brief eternity. But my muscles start to shake as they relax, and I become aware of his skin against mine. His hands are tight against my back, still holding me up as he waits for me to recover.
There's a goofy smile on my face as I open my eyes, reveling in the sight of him above me. And then the reality of what just happened finally dawns on me. My face is already hot from the blood rushing to my head, but I feel me eyes go wide.
"Did I-" I stammer, "Did you just- with one-"
"Apparently."
Dimitri grins as he leans down, sliding his mouth over my collar bone and up my neck.
"You are very good for my ego, Roza," he chuckles into my ear.
"Fuck," I breathe. I'm not really sure if I should be impressed or mortified. But any examination of my internal emotions goes out the window as Dimitri apparently decides I'm sentient enough for him to resume.
"Fuck," I repeat, in an entirely different tone as he withdraws. My eyes flick down, watching his glistening cock emerge inch by inch. But Dimitri waits until my eyes meet his again before he slides back into me.
My eyes roll back into my head, my spine turns into jelly. Dimitri's hands are on my hips, thumbs pressing on my hip bones as he leverages himself deeper. My hands are on his ass, helping pull him in until there's no space between us at all. But I keep my eyes shut, not bothering to open them again when he pulls out for another thrust. Instead I try to absorb every ounce of pleasure he sends through me as he moves.
He's incredible; solid and warm and silky. And other descriptors that transcend the laws of human language. Another merciless thrust has me throwing back my head with a sound I can't even identify. But I want to feel his skin on mine, so I sweep a hand up his ribs. My nails dig into his shoulder as I pull him to me in a silent request, and Dimitri obligingly lowers himself to his elbows on top of me. He buries his face in my neck as each thrust begins to set a rhythm, my hips arching up to meet every stroke.
It's better than I could even have dreamed, with no interruptions, no holds barred and every barrier lowered. I never want it to end.
Wait.
My eyes fly open. Fuck.
"Dimitri."
"Roza," he moans.
I can't believe my stupid fucking brain is doing this right now.
"Dimitri," I insist, this time tapping his shoulder with my palm.
He stops moving immediately, his hand moving to cup my face.
"Are you okay?" he asks. There's an adorable pucker between his eyebrows.
God I want to tell him I'm fine, to flip him over and ride him until I watch him come. But therein lies the problem.
I grimace. "Condom."
"Condom?" He's obviously still wrestling back the necessary bloodflow to his brain.
"Condom." I confirm. "Do you have one?"
He spits what I assume is a Russian expletive.
"That's a no then?" I ask.
"That's a no, I'm sorry. Do you have one?"
I laugh, though the situation isn't remotely funny. "When the last box in my nightstand expired without even being opened, I figured it was a sign from the universe."
"I see," he replies.
I wince as he pulls out, painfully aware of the empty feeling he leaves in his wake. God I feel like an idiot. But I suppose it's better than the alternative.
"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice once we're sitting side by side on the bed.
"Sorry?" he replies, incredulous. "What the hell do you have to be sorry for?"
I shrug, staring at my hands resting on my bare legs.
"Roza," Dimitri says gently, pulling me to his chest. "I'm glad one of us is being responsible. I told you that's not the reason I came here tonight, but I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't entered my mind. I should have been better prepared."
I take a breath, allowing the scent of his skin to steady me.
"I guess we haven't really had the time to talk about this stuff," I say.
"We haven't," he agrees. "Would you like to talk about it now, or would you prefer we get dressed first?"
I close my eyes, unwilling to relinquish the moment with him even though our bubble has been thoroughly burst.
"Actually, can we just stay like this for a little?" I ask, looking up at his face.
Dimitri smiles. "Of course. Come here."
He lies back against the pillows, extending an arm to invite me to join.
"Big spoon or little spoon?" he asks.
"We're more like teaspoon and ladle," I grin, but I settle my back to his chest and he curls an arm around me after taking a second to adjust himself.
We lie there for a few minutes, content in each other's warmth. But my mind inevitably drifts back to his cock that's still solid against my ass. From the way it seems to be getting harder, I'd say it's safe to assume I'm not the only one with thoughts in that direction.
"You didn't finish," I observe, and I feel Dimitri's chest expand as he holds back a laugh.
"Thank you for informing me," he responds drily.
"Do you want to?" I ask after a beat. "I can help."
"Thank you for the offer, Roza," he replies. "But knowing how fucking exquisite you feel..." He inhales sharply, his hand clenching on my ass.
I get it. Nothing else will even come close to that feeling right now. God, with just one sentence he has me aching for him immediately. But that doesn't make the situation any different.
Dimitri swallows, slowly releasing his grip.
"I could text someone," he says. "Arrange for them to bring over what we need."
I consider it for a second, in spite of the initial embarassment at having some random person ferry condoms to my apartment. But then my eyes fall on the clock across the room.
"You seen the time?" I ask him with a chuckle.
The mattress moves as he shrugs. "If I ask, they'll do it."
But I shake my head. I'm not dragging people out of bed on my account.
"I didn't think you'd take me up on it," he smiles. "But I figured I'd offer anyway."
Looking at his smile again has me biting my lip, and I realise that this problem isn't simply going to go away. So with a sigh I tell Dimitri that we should probably put our clothes back on.
"You're probably right," he agrees. "But I will miss the view. Did I tell you how gorgeous you are?"
My cheeks heat.
"I'm serious, Rose. You're incredible."
"Thank you," I say shyly. "And I know the feeling, by the way. You know I've never been able to stop staring at you."
He laughs. "You were so adorably flustered that first time you walked into my dressing room."
"I remember it slightly differently," I reply.
"Mmm, but I love that your face always shows exactly what you're thinking."
My heart does a backflip at that word, and I try to quash the swelling urge that rises in my chest with surprising strength. I have to speak, before the feelings result in me saying something supremely stupid.
"If you keep talking, I'm going to kiss you," I inform him. "And then we'll end up right back where we started."
Even as I speak, Dimitri's eyes are focused on my lips.
I distinctly see him swallow, then he laughs. "You may have a point there."
It's surprising just how far we'd managed to scatter our clothes on our way to my room. I grab my shirt from under the sofa and figure I should probably put on underwear given the circumstances. So while Dimitri's locating his jeans, I head back to my room to get dressed. I'm just pulling my shirt over my head when there's a faint knock on my door.
"Are you aware you just saw me entirely naked?" I call with a laugh.
Dimitri enters, his smile mirroring mine.
"Very," he laughs. "And I don't think I could survive the experience again right now."
But he's got that look on his face, and I know what's coming before he says it.
"You're heading home?" I predict.
A sad smile. "As much as I'd love to stay, it's not going to lead to any responsible decisions."
He's right. But God, I wish he wasn't.
"You ever thought it's weird how we seem to have such bad luck?" I muse out loud.
He arches an eyebrow. "How so?"
I shrug. "It just seems like it's always something, you know? The show, Adrian, Tasha. It's like the universe is interfering."
He walks over to me and wraps me in his arms. Something in my chest settles at his proximity, and I can't resist burrowing my face into his neck. Why does it seem to get harder every time he leaves?
"Roza," Dimitri says, his chest rumbling beneath my ear, "If the universe really doesn't want us to be together, it's going to have to try harder. Knowing you is all the luck I need."
My heart flutters. I think that's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me? Sure, I have to suppress the desire to rip his clothes off and kiss every inch of him. On top of that, my tongue almost burns with the effort of keeping those stupid words contained, since blurting that out would be of no help to anyone now. But also...
... Dimitri just stuck up a giant verbal middle finger at the cosmos. I don't even think twice before I drive across the room to knock twice on the wooden body of my guitar.
I look up at him as he blinks at me, clearly amused.
"Not that that wasn't smooth as fuck, Comrade," I say sheepishly, "but you should probably knock on wood too. Just in case."
His genuine laugh lights my heart up like a Christmas light, giving me a flash of those adorable pointy teeth. But he raps gently on the guitar despite how ridiculous I'm being. The strings ring out once, twice, three times. Three times? I'm about to ask when he makes a weird sound over his shoulder, like he's pretending to spit.
"I don't think Americans do that part," he shrugs as he intercepts my questioning look. "Something about spitting in the eyes of the devil. But you seemed pretty serious so I figured it wouldn't hurt."
I nod, oddly touched.
"You're that worried about bad luck?" Dimitri smiles.
"No," I reply honestly. "But I'm not taking any risks where you're concerned."
Dimitri leans down, cradling my face in his hand. "You're making me want to kiss you," he says softly.
"Good."
"And other things."
"Mmm, then that's very good."
He laughs. "Do I need to remind you of the problem at hand?"
"The problem is that I wish you didn't have to go," I sigh.
"I know Roza. Me too. We'll talk in the morning."
As we walk to my door, I notice both of us are dawdling. As though we can extend our time together just a little more. There's a heavy feeling in my chest as he kisses me goodbye, and even my door seems to close with a more muted thud than usual. Then the silence left in his wake is interrupted by my phone vibrating on the coffee table.
That's the secret of showbusiness, Dimitri's texted. Always leave them wanting more.
I smile a little, biting my lip as I type my response.
I don't want more. I just want you.
God you're making it difficult not to turn around and come back.
You'd better not be texting and driving Comrade.
Sweet dreams, Roza
I sigh to myself and start getting ready for bed. Considering all that's happened, wet dreams are far more likely.
Author's Note
Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought of the chapter by leaving a review. Email notifications seem to be returning to normal so I should even be able to respond this time. Also please feel free to follow and favourite if you'd like to keep in the loop when I post.
I'm alive, I'm still (slowly) writing, and posting when I can. This fic has been my first foray into writing actual smut, so hopefully I'm doing it right. Its probably surprising considering how long I've been posting, but hey. I can't help but think of my favourite review I've ever received, when I first started posting: "no lemon, boring, snore." I hope that random guest reviewer is proud of me now. But honestly I just appreciate the hell out of you guys for sticking with me.
The VA universe and the characters therein are the sole intellectual property of Richelle Mead.