Chapter 9 #2
Natasha shook her head. She looked wrecked in the best way—still healing, still tender, yet wanting me so badly she couldn’t hide it.
I leaned in, dragging my mouth to her ear. “Then strip,” I growled again, savoring the way she shivered.
She hesitated for one heartbeat, eyes searching mine as if making sure I meant it. As if she didn’t already know there wasn’t a single order I gave her that didn’t come straight from the center of my obsession.
Then she obeyed. Fingers trembling, breath unsteady, she reached for the hem of her shirt. I caught her wrist before she could lift it. Her gasp punched the air between us.
“Not like that,” I murmured against her mouth. “I want to watch you unravel for me, princess. Slow.”
She swallowed hard, thighs pressing together. I felt her need like a heat under my skin. Felt her trust like a fist around my heart. But here we were. Locked in a room. My belt in my hand. My woman trembled for me.
“Go on,” I said, stepping back just enough to give her space. “Show me what’s mine.”
Her eyes fluttered closed—then she began. I fell to my knees, taking her in as she put on a show for me. When she was fully unclothed, I kept my promise.
I bent her over the arm of the couch, one hand pressed firmly between her shoulder blades, the other trailing down the curve of her spine.
She arched for me instinctively, presenting herself, and the sight alone nearly undid me.
The curves on her body were made to be touched.
Adored. Kissed. Loved. I kissed each cheek, unable to hold back anymore.
"Beautiful," I breathed, my palm smoothing over the swell of her ass. "So fucking beautiful when you obey me."
She whimpered, hips shifting, and I rewarded her with a sharp smack that echoed through the empty space. Her gasp was everything—surprise, need, permission all wrapped into one sound. I ate every bit of up since it was served to me on a platter.
"Count," I commanded, folding the belt in my hands. "And thank me after each one I’m about to give you."
"Yes, Dmitri," she whispered, and Christ, I loved her like this. Vulnerable. Mine. Trusting me with every fragile piece of herself. “Have I done something?”
“No, princess. Not a single thing. And when you take this for me, I need you to be respectful and say ‘Sir’.”
The first strike landed clean across both cheeks. Her body jerked forward, a cry spilling from her lips.
"One," she gasped. "Thank you, Sir."
I smoothed my hand over the reddening skin, warming her beautiful brown skin, soothing even as I prepared to mark her again. "Good girl. You're taking it so well for me."
By the fifth strike, she was trembling, thighs shaking, arousal glistening between them. I dropped the belt and sank two fingers inside her without warning. She was soaked, clenching around me immediately.
"Fuck, princess," I groaned, working her open with slow, deliberate thrusts. "You're dripping for me. You like being mine, don't you? Like knowing I'll mark every inch of you?"
"Yes," she sobbed, pushing back against my hand. "Yes, please... I need—"
"I know what you need." I withdrew my fingers and freed myself from my pants, the ache in my dick demanding relief. I lined myself up, teasing her entrance with just the tip. "Tell me who you belong to."
"Dmitri…" she breathed.
“Fucking say it, princess.” I demanded.
"You," she whispered.
I drove into her in one brutal thrust, burying myself to the hilt. Her scream was muffled against the couch cushion, her body clamping down around me like a vice. Perfect. So fucking perfect. She was already shaking. Already about to come undone. Not before I got my fill of her.
I didn't give her time to adjust. I couldn't. The possessiveness, the rage still simmering under my skin from Maria's betrayal, the overwhelming need to claim what was mine poured into every snap of my hips as I bucked.
The loud claps of skin meeting skin echoed against the walls and ceiling, making anybody inside this house aware of what was happening in here.
Good…
"Mine," I growled, fisting her hair and pulling her head back so I could see her face. Tears streaked her cheeks, mouth open in silent cries of pleasure. "Say it again."
"Yours," she gasped. "I'm yours."
I released her hair only to grip her hips with both hands, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
Good. I wanted her marked. Wanted anyone who looked at her to know she was taken.
That she belonged to someone who would blaze a trail for her.
The tension coiled tighter in my spine, pressure building as she clenched around me, her body already climbing toward release.
"Come for me," I commanded, reaching around to circle her clit with rough, demanding strokes. "Now, princess. Let me feel it."
She shattered with a broken cry of my name, her entire body seizing as the orgasm tore through her.
The sensation pushed me over the edge, and I buried myself deep, grinding into her as I came hard, marking her from the inside out.
Making sure that I fucked my seed into her where it needed to stay. Not a single drop wasted.
Mine. All mine.
I collapsed over her back, both of us breathing hard, sweat-slicked and satisfied. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then another to the nape of her neck.
"Say yes already," I murmured against her skin. "Marry me."
She turned her head, catching my eyes with hers. She was soft, trusting, absolutely wrecked. "Dmitri, I…"
“It’s not because I’m balls deep inside you. Not because you’re so soft, that you smell good, or that I want to protect you.”
"Then why?" she asked. I could see that this moment was a make or break it kind of situation.
I pulled out slowly, turning her to face me. Her legs were unsteady, so I lifted her, carrying her to the couch and settling her across my lap. I needed to see her eyes for this. Needed her to understand.
"Because you're the only person who's ever made me want to be human again," I said, my thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. "Before you, I was going through motions. Breathing but not alive. Existing in darkness because that's all I knew."
Her breath hitched, eyes searching mine.
"I want to marry you because you looked at the monster I am and didn't flinch," I continued, my voice rough with emotion I rarely let surface. "You saw me for who I am—and you didn't run. You walked toward me anyway. Well, until my family cornered you."
"Dmitri…"
"I'm not finished." I gripped her chin gently, making sure she couldn't look away. "I want to marry you because every time I think about anyone trying to hurt you, I realize I'd rather die before I let them touch a hair on your head. That's not just protection, princess. That's devotion."
A tear slipped down her cheek, and I caught it with my thumb.
"I want to marry you because when you told Georgi I was yours, something inside me that's been broken my entire life finally clicked into place," I admitted. "I've never belonged to anyone. Never wanted to. But with you? I want to be claimed. Owned. Possessed just as completely as I possess you."
Her lips parted, trembling.
"You make me want to build something instead of just destroy," I said, pressing my forehead to hers. "You make me want tomorrow when I've spent years only caring about today. You make me believe I could be the kind of man who deserves you—even though we both know I don't."
"You do," she whispered fiercely.
"No, princess, I don't. But I'm selfish enough not to care.
" My hand slid to her throat, not squeezing, just resting there—a dark reminder of what we were.
"I want to marry you because I need everyone to know you're mine.
I need a ring on your finger, my name replacing yours, legal proof that you belong to me in every way that matters. "
I leaned in, my lips brushing hers.
"I want to marry you because loving you is the most terrifying thing I've ever done, and I want to be terrified of losing you every single day for the rest of my life," I confessed. "Because that fear? That's how I know you're real. That what we have is real."
Her hands came up to frame my face, fingers threading through my hair.
"I want to marry you because you're my salvation and my damnation wrapped into one beautiful, infuriating package," I said. "Because you're the prayer I never deserved to have answered. Because you're mine, and I'm yours, and I want the whole fucking world to know it."
I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes fully.
"So yes, Natasha. Marry me. Not because I'm inside you or because I protect you. Marry me because we're both willing to make this work. Because our darkness recognizes each other. Because I will love you with a violence that would scare anyone else, and you'll love me right back the same way."
My voice dropped to barely a whisper.
"Marry me because without you, I'm just a monster. But with you? I'm your monster. And that's the only thing I've ever wanted to be."
Silence stretched between us, heavy with anticipation. Her eyes were wet, lips trembling, and I could feel her heart racing against my chest.
"Say yes, princess," I murmured, my hand tightening just slightly on her throat. "Say yes and let me spend the rest of my life proving I'm worthy of the gift you're giving me."
Her answer came not in words, but in the way she surged forward, closing the distance between us. Her mouth crashed against mine, desperate, claiming, absolute.
I groaned into her, one hand tangling in her hair while the other stayed at her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my palm. The kiss was everything we were — tender, possessive, and surrendering, dark and somehow still full of light.
She kissed me like she was branding me, like she was sealing a promise that went deeper than any vows we'd speak. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, nails biting through my skin, and I fucking loved it. Loved that she could be soft and fierce all at once. Loved that she gave as good as she got.
I nipped her bottom lip, drawing it between my teeth until she gasped. Then I soothed it with my tongue, deepening the kiss until we were both breathless, both trembling, both completely lost in each other.
When we finally broke apart, breathing ragged, her eyes opened slowly. They were glazed with tears and desire and something so profound it made my chest ache.
"Yes," she whispered against my lips. "Yes, I'll marry you. I'll be yours in every way that matters. Forever."
The word hit me like a bullet to the chest—painful and perfect.
"Forever," I repeated, sealing it with another kiss, softer this time but no less intense. "You and me, princess. 'Til death."
"And probably after," she murmured with a small, breathless laugh.
I smiled against her mouth—a real smile, the kind I only ever gave her. "Definitely after. I'd find you in hell itself if I had to."
"Good," she said, pulling me back in. "Because I'd be waiting."
“How do you feel about Christmas Day?” I asked her.
“Next year?” She froze.
“No, princess. In two weeks.” I kissed her lips quickly before holding her chin in place so she could see how serious I was.
“You don’t think that’s too soon?” She asked anxiously.
“I’ve known since the first time that I proposed to you that I wanted you. That was seven years ago. The longest delay of my life.” I chuckled.
“You really meant it back then, huh?” she shook her head in disbelief.
“I did.”
“I hoped you had, but I couldn’t rely on potential. I needed it to be real. I’ve always wanted you, Dmitri. I didn’t want to be a temporary thing.” She whispered.
“No, baby. Never. You could never. I would never. It’s always been you.”
Natasha wiped the tears from her eyes. “Then yes. We can get married on the best day of the year.”
I held her tightly, closing my eyes as content filled me.
And in that moment, with Maria's threat still looming and danger lurking in every shadow, I made a silent vow that I would protect this woman with my last breath.
Anyone who tried to take her from me would learn exactly why they should have stayed away.
Starting with Maria.