Chapter 17 #2
“You like when I say your name?”
“Yes.”
He made a sound low in his chest, not quite growl, not quite groan. “Keep talking. Tell me more.”
She stared through her lashes at him. “I thought about...” She swallowed hard. “I wondered if you’d be rough, or deliberately gentle. If you’d take your time or devour me whole.”
“Which did you decide?”
“Both.” She sensed a side to him very few saw. She believed he’d once been gentle, but life had made him hard.
“Which do you want?”
“Do I have to choose?”
His brows lifted. “You want me rough?”
“I want you honest. I want the real you, or nothing at all.”
He moved then, faster than she could track, lunging over her, still not touching but close enough that his breath ghosted over her lips.
“Beg me.” His voice commanded obedience. “Beg me to touch you, and I’ll end this misery. I’ll ruin you so thoroughly that you’ll never try to wash me off again.”
“I…” His words settled over like a chill. But then she frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw you, in the shower, scrubbing your skin. You thought you could wash me away, but you can’t get rid of me that easily, Lisichka. I’m in here.” He pressed a finger to her forehead.
“That’s not what I was doing.”
“I watched you.”
“But I wasn’t…” She looked away. Why was she telling him this? “Never mind.”
He caught her chin and forced her to meet his stare. “What then?”
Her lips pressed tight. “Ash. We were together earlier today, and he…”
Understanding dawned and his expression hardened. He drew back, now standing at his full height. “I see.”
“You’re upset.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“You belong to all of us.”
That might be what they agreed, but he was still pissed. Hunter was more territorial than the others. “I did it for you. You said you didn’t want me after them, that I should be…” She recalled how much she needed to get clean when she returned to her room. “I felt filthy.”
“You regret being with Ash?”
“No, but I wanted to be fresh. For you.”
His nostrils flared as he studied her face. “For me?”
She nodded. Pride warred with need, but need was winning. “I don’t know why. You’re not even nice to me.”
“I’m not easy like my brothers.”
“None of you are easy. But I’m trying, Hunter. Truly, I am.”
He stepped closer. “That is why you want to speak Russian.”
“I’ll never speak it like you, but I’d like to understand it better if I’m staying here.”
“You honestly plan to stay?”
“You’ve left me little choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Lisichka.”
“Well, I prefer this prison over the one my family chose.”
“Not a prison. A fortress. It’s a privilege to be our guest.”
“I believe you. But not if you want to hurt and punish me.”
“You’re braver than you realize.”
Her lashes lowered.
“Marigold.” He delicately traced a finger over her cheek.
For the first time, she truly felt the loss of herself in the mix of surrendering her family and past. “When this is over, that might not be my name.”
“But it is your name. Don’t let them take it from you when they’ve already stolen so much.”
“How did you…?”
“Ash.”
She looked down, embarrassed. “I’m not crazy.”
“No one would blame you if you were, after what they put you through.”
“You say that now—”
“I mean what I say. Today, tomorrow, a year from now. We don’t expect perfection, but we do expect you to be truthful. That’s what it means to be ours.”
She couldn’t take any more of this man. “Please.” The word came out broken.
“Please what?” He leaned closer, lips nearly brushing hers. “What do you need?”
“Touch me.” She said, stronger this time. “I need you to touch me.” She wanted him to make her irrevocably a part of this place so she could start her life over.
“Let me hear you beg.”
She made a sound of pure frustration. He was going to make her say it. Make her bare her soul for him.
“Please, Hunter.” His name tasted like surrender on her tongue. “Please. I’m begging you. Touch me, taste me, take me. I don’t care how. Just make me yours.”
Victory flashed in his eyes for a split second before his control shattered completely.
His mouth crashed over hers, not gentle but not cruel. He kissed her like he was claiming territory, teeth scraping, tongue soothing. His hands slid up her calves with devastating slowness, spreading her legs wide.
“Moya Lisichka.” The Russian endearment rumbled against her skin. “My little fox. Do you know how many times I’ve thought about breaking my own promises to touch you?”
She couldn’t answer. Could barely breathe. His hands had trailed up her thighs, thumbs tracing patterns that made her shake. He pushed the blankets away, revealing every inch of her.
His fingers traced higher, and she shivered. He pressed her knees into her chest, putting her most secret places on full display. “Look how you glisten, ready for me alone.” He bent down, and dragged his tongue through her folds. “Untouched.”
She gasped when he grazed her clit.
“I’m going to fuck your tight pink hole so hard you’ll feel me inside of you for days.
” He pressed a finger inside of her, purposely reaching as deep as he could.
“You’ll be exhausted when I’m finished. If you sleep, I’ll fuck you while you dream.
And when you dream, you’ll feel me inside of you.
That’s how deep it will be, Lisichka. I’ll always be in you. ”
Her breath jutted out as he pressed a finger to her ass.
“Every inch of you will know the feel of my cock.” He pressed his fingers deep inside of her and held. Her moans pitched when he teased a sensitive spot. “Three times as deep as I am now.”
“Hunter…” He was edging her closer to that pivotal place, but dragging it out. Teasing her. “Please.”
A low rumbling chuckle escaped his throat. “Greedy little thief. You already stole from us today.”
Her attention snapped to his face. “No, I didn’t.”
“You did. When you were in the bath, touching yourself, you stole an orgasm. No more, Lisichka. Your pleasure is ours to give. You come see me or Stone or Ash when you need attention. Understand?”
“Are you saying I’m not allowed to touch myself?”
He twisted his fingers, reaching places inside of her she could never manage on her own.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” His other hand pressed flat on her lower stomach, applying enough pressure to heighten the sensation of his exploring fingers.
“Besides, your little climax was nothing compared to what I can give you.”
Her breath hitched as he demonstrated, pumping hard and fast, hitting nerves she never reached before. “Wait, wait, wait!” She gasped, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of intense pleasure, but she was powerless to stop it.
He took ownership of her body. Drove her to heights she could never manage on her own, places other men had never cared to journey.
She was merely a passenger, a victim of sin and service, an instrument he played like a master, and as she reached one explosive finish after the other, crying out profanities that slurred into incoherent prayers, he got her to sing.
The aftershocks rippled through her like endless electric zaps. Every nerve was so alive and firing, the simplest caress made her twitch and gasp.
“Very good,” he praised, trailing the tips of his fingers over her wet thighs.
She was drenched flesh and sobbing pleasure, mindlessly malleable.
“The way you looked at me in the library…” He kissed the words into her flesh like brands. “So trusting. So curious. I wanted to bend you over that chair and show you exactly how those Russian words should sound when you scream them.”
A whimper escaped as his hands tightened on her thighs, holding her steady as he worked his mouth higher.
“But this is better.” His teeth found the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and she gasped. “Now, you’re mine by choice. Every time I make you come apart, you’ll know you asked for it. Begged for it.”
He pressed her thighs wide and looked up at her, the raw hunger in his eyes enough to steal her breath. “No place to run now, little fox.”
“I’m through running,” she whispered and his control evaporated.
He surged forward, taking her with his mouth.
Tongue probing as his lips closed around her sensitized clit.
She screamed when the pleasure was too much to control, but he didn’t back off.
He drank her in, growling and gripping her with bruising force as he demanded another and then another from her.
She lay in a panting puddle of lust, as every nerve ending sizzled with a steady pulse, so rapid her body became a live wire and he became its master.
Capturing her mouth in a kiss that tasted like possession and promises, he whispered Russian secrets against her flesh.
His hands were everywhere at once, learning the body he’d studied through cameras, claiming what she’d freely given.
“Beautiful.” He growled the word against her throat. “Moya. Mine.”
She arched into him, desperate for every delicious contact, craving the friction, desiring every torturous touch, trusting his teasing would only lead to pleasures beyond her imagination.
He obliged, pressing her damp body against the cool furs, the pelts silky against her fevered skin. His mouth traced a path of fire down her neck, across her collarbone, lower still.
“Say it again.” He commanded between kisses. “Say my name like you did in the water.”
“Hunter.” It came out as a moan.
“Again.”
“Hunter, please...”
He rewarded her with his teeth, just sharp enough to make her gasp. His hands mapped every curve, every hollow, as she writhed and begged. He took his time, thorough and devastating, until she was nothing but wild sensation and raw need.
“Look at me.” He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his molten gaze. “I want to see your eyes when I enter you. I want to watch you break just for me.”
She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t do anything but feel as he took ownership of her body. Every touch was a claim. Every kiss a brand. He was rewriting her at a molecular level, replacing every other memory with just this, just him.
“Please.” She didn’t know what she was begging for anymore. Release? Mercy? Life? “Hunter, I need you inside of me.”
“You beg so pretty.” He punctuated the words with a nudge of his thick cock, showing her just how tight his entry would be. “You’re mine now, Lisichka.”
Her breath pulled deep, filling her lungs as he filled her with his all-encompassing possession.
It was vastly different from being with the others.
With Hunter, she had to be present. He commanded it, not just with his eyes or the way he held her face insisting she look at him, but with his touch.
Every thrust was pure intention. Every gasp driven from a place deep in her soul that never spoke before this moment. Before him.
When the world finally shattered around her, she screamed his name, babbling in tongues just like he’d promised. He held her through it, whispering Russian endearments against her skin, each word of praise sinking into her bones like truth. She never felt so protected in her life.
“Moya.” He breathed the word like a repeated vow. “Mine.”
She could only nod. Her mind was beyond words, beyond thought. He redefined her, as promised.
“No going back now, Lisichka.”
An agreeable hum was all she could manage.
“You’ll never be rid of me. Never stop feeling my hands, my mouth, my claim on every inch of you.” He kissed her again, softer now but no less possessive. “This is just the beginning, little fox. Now that I’ve tasted you, that hunger will never go away.”
His promise should have terrified her. Instead, it filled her with an unfamiliar sense of security she had no comparison for. He would devour her, again and again, but he’d also protect her from any enemy. She was his now, and that meant no one—save his brothers—could lay a hand on her.