Page 63 of No Longer Mine (Rags & Riches #2)

When I turned, Dimitri was still standing in the doorway, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite name. Awe, maybe. Hesitation.

“You said you didn’t know how,” I said softly, gesturing to the opposite chair. “Let me teach you.”

He walked in slowly, warily—as if this was more dangerous than anything we’d done last night. And maybe it was. Because this wasn’t sex. This was intimacy. The kind you couldn’t take back.

We sat opposite each other and all thought of food was forgotten.

I grinned at him as I set up the board and told him all about the game.

Piece by piece, move by move, I taught him everything I knew.

He watched diligently—intently. Something stitched itself together in my chest as I realized I was no longer playing to survive…

I was playing to share myself, and he was wrapped up in it— engrossed in everything I had to share.

God help me.

With his first checkmate, he leaned back in the chair and grinned.

But I couldn’t focus on the game anymore.

My gaze was only on his half-naked body and all of the delicious, dirty things we’d done the night before.

When he bested me again, I knew it didn’t matter.

I was focused on something else entirely.

He narrowed his eyes at me and folded his arms over his chest. “Are you letting me win?”

I laughed softly and shook my head. “I’m a bit distracted.”

He wove his fingers together over his chest, and one of his brows lifted. “Oh?”

I leaned back in my own chair and watched as his eyes zeroed in on the material of my shirt lifting at my thighs. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. My knees fell open slightly, and the pawn I’d been toying with gave me the most wicked idea.

I rolled the piece between my fingers, its smooth glass warm now from my touch.

His eyes tracked the movement, darkening with every second.

I felt a smile tug at my lips as I ran the piece down the center of my chest and over the top of my thigh.

His eyes tracked every movement. I dragged the pawn slowly down the center of my thigh before inching it closer to my cotton panties.

His jaw flexed. I felt power pulse through me.

When the glass piece finally met the center of my panties, I let out a small sigh. His chair scraped against the floor as he stood suddenly, but I lifted a hand.

“Sit.” My voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the command.

He froze. Then, slowly, he lowered himself back into the chair, his knuckles white against the armrest.

I dragged the pawn over the damp cotton again, slower this time, and let out a breathy moan just to see what he’d do. His jaw clenched like he was in pain.

“You like watching me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I tilted my head as I toyed with the edge of my panties, the pawn slipping just underneath the elastic.

“Scarlett…” he growled, but his voice was pure gravel.

“Then don’t miss a second.” I slid the pawn beneath the fabric fully, shivering as it touched my skin.

His lips parted. Slowly, I moved the piece lower, letting it glide along the absolute mess that was the apex of my thighs. A gasp escaped me, and his entire body jolted like I’d touched him instead.

His control unraveled by degrees, but he never took his eyes off me. Not for a second. And in that gaze, I saw it—the worship. The hunger. It did something to me emotionally… but also physically. My panties were beyond soaked.

I removed the pawn from my wetness and stood up. He practically vibrated with want, but I didn’t go to him. Instead, I pulled the t-shirt over my head and then got rid of my panties.

He let out a sound between a moan and a painful groan.

The evidence of how badly he wanted me strained against his joggers.

I licked my lips, but I didn’t go to him.

I sat back down in the chair and spread my legs for him.

He let out another sound, and my stomach clenched.

If he kept it up, I didn’t know how long I would be able to last. His jaw tightened as I picked the chess piece back up and ran it right down the center of my pussy.

The glass was now deliciously cold, and I let out another moan at the new sensation. “Do you like hearing me pleasure myself?”

His eyelids lowered slightly as he watched me circle my clit with the glass pawn. He nodded his head slowly as if he were in a trance.

“You do like it,” I whispered, watching the way his throat worked as he swallowed hard. “Do you want to see me cum?”

His fists clenched at his sides, and his jaw ticked, but he didn’t move. I could see it—his struggle for control, the thin thread he was balancing on.

“Scarlett…” His voice was ragged now, low and frayed. “You’re going to destroy me.”

I smirked, but it faltered slightly when I hit just the right spot and shivered. “Yeah?”

When I dipped the top of the pawn into my pussy—just slightly—his control snapped.

He surged forward and fell to his knees on the floor.

He planted his palms on either side of him as if he was ready to crawl to me—to worship right at my feet.

He stayed right where he was as he watched me push the piece farther into my pussy. His moan was full of pain now.

“Do you want me or do you enjoy watching me fuck myself with your gift?”

He closed his eyes, but just for a brief moment. “I could die like this.”

“Happily?”

His grin was devastating and also a distraction. Before I could blink, he was right at the edge of my chair. His face was at eye level with my pussy and all I could think of was him tasting me like the night before. He put his hand over mine and began moving the pawn in and out of me.

My head tipped back, but before I knew it, it was his mouth on me, and the pawn was long forgotten. His tongue slid over me in one slow, devastating stroke.

“Fuck—Dimitri?—”

He gripped my thighs, spreading me wider, keeping me pinned to the chair as he went down on me like it was his last meal.

He sucked on my clit hard enough to make my vision blur, his fingers digging into my flesh like he needed to hold himself back from devouring all of me.

I choked out a moan, my hips bucking into his face, chasing the rhythm of his mouth like a woman completely undone.

“Fuck—just like that?—”

He hummed against me like he liked the sound of that. Like he wanted more of it.

“That’s it,” he muttered against my skin. “Make those noises. I want to hear every filthy sound you make when you fall apart for me.”

His tongue circled me again—slowly—before he wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked hard once again. My thighs trembled against his shoulders.

I tried to close my legs—tried to pull away when it got to be too much—but he wouldn’t let me.

He growled and shoved me back against the chair harder. “You started this, Little Fox. Now it’s time for you to take it.”

When he slid two fingers inside me without warning, I cried out.

“So fucking wet for me,” he muttered. “I could eat this pussy for hours.”

I was already shaking. Already on the edge.

“Dimitri, I?—”

“Cum on my face,” he snapped, tongue pressing hard as his fingers fucked into me. “I love the taste of your sweet pussy.”

That did it.

It hit fast and brutal. My entire body locked up as a raw scream ripped from my throat, and I shattered all over his mouth.

He didn’t let up. He kept going—licking me through it, swallowing every drop.

By the time I could breathe again, I was a trembling, ruined mess in the chair—legs still spread, chest heaving, heart pounding like a war drum in my ears.

He pulled back slowly, licking his lips like he’d just finished dessert. His mouth was wet and his chin was glistening. His grin was absolutely wicked with a touch of satisfaction. The boner he was still sporting was more than impressive in the morning light.

I licked my lips slowly. “My turn.”

He shook his head and planted his hand in the middle of my chest, forcing me to lean back in my chair. He ran his fingers over my bullet wound, checking it out again. I didn’t know if I was grateful for the extra care or annoyed that I couldn’t continue what I started.

He brushed his fingers lightly across the healing wound, his gaze suddenly more serious. “You’re not cleared for round two,” he murmured, voice rough but threaded with concern. “I meant it when I said I want all of you—but I’m not hurting you to get it.”

The shift in him—going from unrelenting hunger to such precise gentleness—undid me more than anything else could. I stared up at him, breath still ragged, body humming with aftershocks, and felt it in every part of me.

He looked up and caught the softness in my expression. His thumb traced just under my breast, then up the line of my collarbone. “Don’t look at me like that, Little Fox.”

“Like what?”

“Like I did something noble.” His smile was crooked—wry. “I’m not a noble man.”

I reached forward, and he avoided my touch. “I’m not going to hurt myself by giving you head.”

“But instead of eating breakfast, you came in here to teach me how to play and then you seduced me. No more spicy antics until you have food in you.”