Avrora
Mikhail's name continues to flash across my phone screen, like the blaring red and blue lights of a police car.
A gamut of emotions assails me and my heart doubles over in a triple beat.
There's trepidation and fear, happiness and hope, and shame.
Shame for the scandalous way I've been with Anatoli.
Shame for the secret parts of me that feel pleasure during those forbidden moments when I come undone in his arms like a slut.
Or a cheater.
I feel like I'm cheating on Mikhail now even just thinking about Anatoli.
I stare at the phone, wanting to answer, but the consequences of doing so stop me. I'm supposed to see Mikhail sometime in the next two weeks. Talking to him now might jeopardize that.
The phone rings on and on and on, quivering in my hands.
Or is that me?
I don't know. What I do know is, if I know what's good for me, I mustn't answer the phone.
I need to let it ring out and tell Mikhail I'm sorry when I get to see him.
That's what I need to do but I don't want to because, God, this is Mikhail.
The man I used to call my prince.
How can I ignore his call?
He knows he can't call me because I told him in theonetext I was allowed to send. And he would have known anyway.
But I'm still the same girl who screamed with delight when Dad first allowed him to call me, and I'm still the same girl who swooned every time he sent me a message.
Lorelai said Mikhail was trying to get me back.
What if he found a way?
Even if he didn't, wouldn't it just be good to hear his voice?
Or maybe it might fix me. Remembering how I loved him always made me stronger.
That thought does it. I answer the call. The ringing stops and I press the phone to my ear.
"Avrora. Baby is that you?" Mikhail's deep voice fills me with the same elation I used to feel every time I was with him. But then I remember the danger.
"Mikhail, I can't talk. Talking to you is going to make it worse for me. Anatoli is-"
"I don't give a fuck. I needed to see how you are." His tone, that authoritative yet protective tenor, envelopes me. It's a reminder of what felt safe and what we used to be. "I'm going crazy not knowing what's happening to you."
My breath hitches and the backs of my eyes sting with those tears that still want to fall. "I'm okay. I wish things were different."
"I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"Awww, isn't this touching." Anatoli's voice carries across the room, crashing into me like a tsunami.
My body jolts, then flushes with a maddening cacophony of fear and heat from his piercing stare.
He's leaning against the door frame, his black Armani suit making him look like the businessman he's supposed to be. But he still looks like the Grim Reaper to me.
Being caught again doing something I'm not supposed to do is just so typical of my fucking bad luck.
So no, Ehlga, I don't believe your predictions of success and happiness. The idea of wishing for either of those feel like bullshit to me.
"Avrora, what's happening?" Mikhail's voice speeds up in my ear, like when you put a song on fast forward for far too long. "Is Anatoli there?"
"Yes, I have to go." I barely manage to get the words out.
"No, what's he doing?" Mikhail's voice is loud enough for Anatoli to hear.
Anatoli walks up to me and the moment he snatches the phone out of my hand I know he's going to do something bizarre.
"Anatoli, Mikhail was just checking to see if I was okay." I study his face. "He didn't mean any harm."
He walks me into the wall with one of his I-don't-give-a-fuck stares and I crash into the hard surface.
Pressing the phone to his ear, Anatoli clears his throat and a mirthless smile floats across his lips. "Hello, little brother, listen very carefully and you'll know what I'm doing."
He puts the phone on speaker and sets it on the window frame next to us.
"What are you doing?" I try to stay calm but my pulse jumps in my throat, throbbing so hard I can't breathe.
"Reminding him who you belong to."
The malevolent flicker in his eyes keeps me rooted to the spot. I don't get the chance to brace myself before he drops to his knees and swoops under my skirt like an eagle catching its prey. In the next split second he shoves the skirt up my hips and buries his face into my pussy.
"Stop it, you bastard," I manage, but I'd sound more convincing if there wasn't a moan laced in my voice.
"Anatoli, what the hell are you doing?" Mikhail's voice echoes around the room and through me. "Come back to the phone."
I attempt to push Anatoli away, but when he spreads my legs wide and moves my panties aside with his tongue, I shriek. At his touch, raw pleasure hits me.
One flick of his tongue over my already swollen clit injects me with raw ecstasy that overpowers my every thought.
My mind recedes and I forget who I am, where I am, and who I'm supposed to love.
He sucks on my clit harder, then rips my panties off and hoists my leg over his shoulder. Then he deepens his suckle, sending pleasure coursing through my body.
My emotions shatter like tiny shards of glass and a loud uncontrollable moan rips from deep within my chest. It rises straight from the place which craves him the most-all of me. Another one follows and another and another.
He continues devouring my pussy with his mouth, alternating between licking, sucking, and tasting me.