Fixed 01 - Fantasy Fix (19 page)

Hastily, she raised her glass to her lips and sipped the crisp, dry liquid. Dmitri responded with a smile, but let her enjoy her strategic retreat. He seemed content to watch her take in their surroundings.

As she watched the glittering crowd around them mill about the room, it occurred to Reggie that these weren’t your average a-pair-of-tickets-once-in-a-while opera goers. Come to think of it, she felt pretty sure they weren’t your average season ticket opera goers.

Oh, my God! Was that a Rockefeller?

Dmitri gazed down at her, clearly amused.
I believe it is. In fact, I’m sure of it, because he is great friends with the Vanderbilt and the Kennedy you see him speaking to.

She almost choked on her wine. Swallowing quickly, she took another, more searching look around her and felt a little lightheaded. Unless she missed her guess, not one person in the room with her possessed an annual income with less than seven digits. Before the decimal point.

The sound of a woman’s rather braying laughter drew her attention, and Reggie looked over to see a well-known television personality conversing with a communications tycoon and two heirs to a real estate fortune. When she examined the quartet in a new light, she realized the tuxedos were definitely not rentals, the gown was a designer original, and the rocks around the TV personality’s neck had about as much in common with paste as she had with the people in this room.

Suddenly self-conscious, she glanced down at her hunter-green gown and simple silver jewelry and felt woefully underdressed. She clearly ought to be down in the penny pit with the other peons and not breathing the same rarified air as the debs and celebs up here at the private bar.

“Do not be silly. You have no need for shame. You look magnificent,” Dmitri murmured, leaning down so his breath tickled her ear when he spoke.

To the other people in the room, he probably looked like a doting lover, she thought.

“Is that not what I am,
milka
? Your lover?”

Chimes interrupted their dialog and signaled the end of intermission.

Taking her empty glass, he set it alongside his on a small table and returned his hand to the small of her back for the return trip to their box.
Your luck and your timing never cease to astound me,
he drawled into her mind.
I begin to wonder if you have some strange powers of which I am not aware
.

Reggie walked sedately at his side while she mentally used a whip and a chair to subdue the emotions he had wrought inside her. “I think you’re just too spoiled and too used to getting your own way,” she murmured.

“Ah, but I do always get my way,
milka
, and I see no reason to let that change.”

He ushered her into their box and helped her settle into her seat. When he sat beside her, she took another quick look around them followed by a more thorough look at him.

She probably should have noticed it before, but she’d had other things on her mind. The man fairly reeked of privilege. His evening clothes had definitely been custom tailored; there was just no other way he could have gotten the fabric to hug his tall, well-muscled frame that lovingly. His shoes had the buttery soft look of Italian leather, and now that she studied them, she realized his shirt studs and cufflinks shone with the rich, warm glow of solid gold. She’d bet twenty-four carat. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the stage and crossed her legs primly at the ankles.

Just when the lights began to dim around them, she leaned the tiniest bit closer and, her eyes still fixed on the stage, murmured, “So then, you’re pretty much filthy rich, huh?”

“Disgustingly so.” He too, kept his attention on the proscenium below.

“Hm. Isn’t that special.”

Settling back into her seat, she crossed her hands primly in her lap and concentrated on presenting an utterly calm exterior—to contrast with the chaotic thoughts and emotions beneath the surface. Even before this late-breaking news, she’d had a few moments where she wondered exactly what she was doing with Dmitri. After all, the man was drop-dead gorgeous, sexy as sin, dynamite in bed, mysterious as the hero of a gothic romance and one-hundred-percent alpha male. Now she learned he was also richer than Midas. So what the hell had he been doing hanging out at a run of the mill dive like the Mausoleum that night? Why had he fixed his attention on her among all the beautiful women who had been there, available and most likely panting after him? Why had he taken her home and fucked her silly? Why had he cared enough to track her down on a date? What had he been thinking when he kidnapped her away from Marc? Was that his hand under her skirt?

Swallowing a shriek, Reggie jumped about six inches off her chair when Dmitri’s warm, bare hand snaked around her waist, tugged her close and proceeded to slip under her skirt and glide purposefully up her inner thigh.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded in a hissing whisper.

“Apparently something you need to become a bit more familiar with, if you can’t recognize when I am making love to you,
dushka
.” He laughed against her ear, his other hand covering both of hers and holding them still. “You see, this,” his hands skimmed over her soft flesh, discovered her lack of panties and petted her in approval, “is me making love to you. And this,” his hand shifted, and he penetrated her with one long finger, his way made slick and easy by her moisture, “is you enjoying it.”

Overwhelmed by the sound of his voice like a dark caress against her ear and his finger slowly stroking in and out of her tight cunt, Reggie struggled to bite back a moan with only partial success. Frantic, she looked around, but the curtains at the sides of the box were still drawn, and the boxes at the opposite side of the auditorium were too far away to see into in the dim light. No one could possibly see what they were doing, what Dmitri was doing to her, but if he kept it up, they might very well be able to hear.

She tried to tug her hands free, but his grip only tightened. When she tried to squirm her hips away, he only added a second finger and pressed his thumb against her clit.

“Stop!” She breathed the plea, afraid to speak any louder, almost afraid to speak at all. She could feel the moans welling up in her throat and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from letting them out.

“But you do not want me to stop,
dushka
.” His breath was hot against her ear, his teeth hard and gentle when he bit down on her lobe and made her cunt spasm around his fingers. “You want me to continue. You want me to take you higher. You want me to fulfill your fantasies.”

Reggie froze, every muscle in her body going taut and still. What did he know about her fantasies? He’d said something similar to her during their night together, hadn’t he? As if he knew what she dreamed about, her secrets, her desires.

“Don’t I?” His hand twisted, fingers curling to stroke the sensitive inner walls of her pussy, thumb rubbing a torturous circle against her throbbing clit. “Don’t I give you what you want, Regina?”

He forced a third finger inside her, stretching her wide and leaving her wildly aroused. A whimper almost choked her, and she bit her lip. She knew his eyes watched her face while he pleasured her, but she couldn’t focus on him. She couldn’t focus on anything but his touch.

She felt when her teeth first pierced her own skin. The intensity of her reaction to him frightened her, but she couldn’t pull away, not when her cunt ached to get closer. The pain of her torn lip couldn’t distract her, nor could the drop of crimson blood that welled up from the broken skin. Through her daze, she heard Misha growl deep in his chest. His head swooped down, and his mouth settled over hers.

His tongue darted out to lick the blood away, soothing the tiny wound with his caress. He took her mouth, filling her, overwhelming her with his taste and his touch and his scent. She went under like a poor swimmer in deep water, tugged down by the undertow of his passion. With his tongue in her mouth and his fingers in her cunt, he encompassed her, as if she were an ornament he wore or a puppet that moved only at the command of his touch.

Misha
, she thought, because in the chaotic swirl of emotion and sensation, his name remained the only thread that linked her to reality. He had become the universe in which she existed, the air in her lungs and blood in her veins.
Misha, please.

And he pleased her. Sucking her lip with almost tender tugs, he shifted his hand again, his thumb sliding up until the edge of his nail pressed against the top of her slit and the ball of his thumb applied delicate, stuttering pressure against her clit. His fingers inside her thrust and massaged and pushed her right over the edge. She melted around him, pussy weeping, muscles clenching, breath halted in a great, shuddering, silent orgasm that threatened to overwhelm her even when she wished for it to never end.

But eventually, the spasms faded. Her muscles eased, and her breath started again in shallow pants. His fingers eased out of her and feathered through her curls, petting her like a kitten that needed soothing. Frankly, it wasn’t doing much to slow her heart rate, and neither were the teasing kisses he’d taken to planting along her jaw line.

She drew in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, no longer even pretending to watch the performers. Her world had just been turned upside down, and somehow the romantic tribulations of a spoiled brat in a fictionalized, medieval China couldn’t compare with the real life adventures of her experiences with Dmitri. Good lord, just imagine an opera about them!

“I believe it would be illegal to perform in most countries,” he murmured, nuzzling the hollow beneath her ear and smiling. “Such things are still generally considered ill-suited for public consumption.” She blushed hot enough to burn, and he drew back to grin down at her, licking her juices from his fingers. “Though the audience would surely fall in love with whatever actress portrayed you,
dushka
, especially if she blushed as prettily as you do when she came.”

Embarrassed to her pink-polished toes, Reggie decided Misha had fallen a bit too easily into the roll of charming, self-controlled rogue. He definitely needed to get a little of his own back.

She took a moment to check up on the action on stage and threw a glance at her watch, thankful there was enough light to see. It looked like they had about forty-minutes left until the end of the performance, which should be just enough time for a little judicious revenge. Her lips curved in anticipation.

For the next several moments she pretended to be absorbed by the story on stage. In reality, she was waiting for Dmitri to relax and shift his own attention off of her even briefly. It took a few minutes, but finally he seemed to content himself with once again holding her hand in his, and he watched while lack of sleep began to wear on the fictional people of Peking.

She started by leaning closer to him, snuggling against his side and laying her cheek on the warm silk of his lapel. She shifted their clasped hands from her thigh to his and stilled and waited. His arm slipped around her shoulder to cradle her to him, and she thought she felt his lips brush over her hair, but he continued to watch the stage.

After a few more minutes, she cast a furtive glance around to be sure no one could see into their little boxed-in cocoon and took a deep breath. Time to make her move.

With a feather light touch, Reggie slipped one of her hands free and sent it gliding up Dmitri’s inner thigh, mirroring the move he’d made over her bare skin earlier. Unfortunately, due to the nature of men’s fashions, cloth muffled her touch, but she could still feel his muscles bunch and tighten beneath her hand. When she reached the vee of his legs, she skirted her fingers around the very interesting bulge behind his fly and headed straight up to the hook at the top. Slipping it free of its catch, she grasped the zipper between her fingers and waited. She felt his anticipation as keenly as his heartbeat that pulsed against the back of her hand. When the secondary soprano hit an extended high note, Reggie tugged and lowered the zipper. Her hand slid under the straining cloth and found him, warm and hard and heavy beneath. Her murmur expressed her approval and her fingers gladly curled around his cock, feeling the flesh twitch and throb against her palm.

Leisurely, she began to stroke him, scraping her fingernails delicately against the skin at the base of the shaft and squeezing lightly when she moved toward the tip. She tortured him with a few of the teasing strokes, or at least, she meant them to be teasing, but a quick glance at his face revealed no particular strain. He looked way too calm for her tastes. Eyes narrowing, she continued to watch him while she tightened her grip, pumping his cock in her small fist and using her index finger to rub circles around the sensitive head. His cock twitched, but his face remained impassive. This meant war.

In a flash of movement she slid off her seat and onto her knees before him to suck the head of his cock between her lips. That at least made him draw in a deep breath, but when he let it out, he wore the same polite expression he’d used during the entire opera. Well, Reggie would show him what being a virtuoso was all about.

Drawing her long hair to one side and draping the length over her shoulder, she freed her other hand from his grip and spread open his evening trousers. She wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and used the other to lift his balls from their confinement, cuddling them tenderly in her palm. Watching him from beneath her eyelashes, she leaned forward and delicately nibbled the skin of his glans.

Dmitri shuddered.

Reggie smiled. The man just might not be made of stone after all, she mused, though you’d never know it from his cock. He felt hard as granite, but infinitely warmer. His pulse throbbed against her lips, and she parted them to take the first few inches into her mouth, closing around him like a moist heaven. One hand continued to cradle and massage his balls, and the other wrapped around the base of his shaft, stroking what she couldn’t fit in her mouth.

Dmitri watched the stage.

Acknowledging the challenge, Reggie applied herself to her task, and a very pleasant one, she found it. His cock filled her mouth, the thickness stretching her jaw just enough to make her acutely aware of what she was doing. He pressed against her tongue, filling her with his salty, earthy, intensely masculine flavor. He smelled the same, fresh and clean and earthy, the essence of a man, like forests after spring rain showers. Humming her approval, she suckled his cock like a tasty treat, and he rewarded her with a hiss of indrawn breath.