His middle finger ghosts near my opening, hovering, flickering, lingering, but never slides inside.
I can feel the warmth emanating off his skin, the reprieve from the cold air, and the promise of forming a shield against it.
The more he touches me everywhere except for where I need it the most, the messier I become.
I don’t recognize the incoherent mix of noises that spill out of me. Every time I buck my hips, he stiffens his grip on my hair, warning me without words to stay in place.
That he’s the one who’s running the show.
The one who’s in control.
The one who can both hurt me and please me if he chooses to.
A shiver goes through me at that thought, but I remember that I have the power, too.
Smoke.
The word has been hovering at the tip of my tongue ever since I made a run for it. If I say it, everything will end.
But I don’t.
Despite the torture, I choose to alternate between breathing through my nose and mouth, then focus on the moment.
On his assertive touch.
He’s a man who takes what he wants and there’s something arousing about that.
Just when I think the torment will never end, two of his fingers thrust inside me. At the same time. All the way to the knuckles.
I shriek, the sound permeating our silent surroundings.
Despite being soaking wet and needy for more, I wasn’t ready for this. My core clenches around his fingers as he drives them in and out of my heat in a long, controlled rhythm.
Each thrust picks up in speed methodically, too in tune with my body’s reaction until they’re ruthless and merciless.
My toes curl and a whole-body shudder grips me. This is so different from the tentative, almost shy way I touch myself.
There’s nothing shy about his touch.
It’s a command, a force that can’t be stopped or derailed.
A disaster of my own making.
He’s here to take, and take, and take some more.
And I can only give.
My hips slam against the ground with how much they buck.
He drives in a third finger. Pleasure mixes with pain as I’m stretched to my full capacity.
It’s impossible to breathe properly, but I force myself to relax, to take it, even if he’s ripping me from the inside out.
His rhythm grows in intensity and I gasp with each in and out, the sound animalistic in nature.
Usually, I hide my face in the pillow or any surface to muffle the sounds of pleasure.
Now, I only have the dirt.
I don’t get to focus on that when a sharp flood rushes through me.
It’s a flicker of pleasure at first, but then it mounts, inflates, and intensifies until tremors cover my skin fully.
I’ve never experienced this type of pleasure before.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I’d be on the edge of blacking out due to an orgasm.
Hell, I didn’t think orgasms could feel this way.
The ones I give myself are always soft, pleasurable, and make me sigh in content once I’m done.
This one?
All I can do is scream at the collision. In my attempts to mute some of the carnal pleasure, I nearly eat the dirt.
A low, gruff sound comes from the devil looming over me, watching, sporting a dark halo that I’ve never seen on Lan before.
But then again, I’ve never been introduced to this side of him before.
“So this is how good girls like you get off. Does being used in the middle of the night like a worthless fuckable hole turn you on, Lisichka?”
I choke on my inhale and everything pauses.
The air. My heart. My brain.
But not him. He definitely doesn’t pause.
He, as in, the guy who certainly didn’t sound like Landon.
At all.
Unless Lan picked up an American accent, a different intonation, and has decided to mess with me.
The worst part is that he sounds familiar.
Way too familiar.
“L-Lan?” I whisper in a barely audible voice.
“Try again.” His voice has roughened, sounding absolutely terrifying.
Oh, God.
Oh, no.
Please, no.
The only reason I went against my character, my moral code of conduct, and did this is because I thought it would be with Landon.
So why isn’t it…？ I clearly picked him through the app.
No one else could match his physical traits.
The beast—literally and figuratively—curls his fingers inside me, stroking a part of me no one has touched before. “You look plain and innocent, but deep down, you’re nothing but a dirty little slut. You’re ready to do anything to get rid of this barrier, no? You asked for it last night, begged for it, even.”