Chapter 25
Chloe
I can’t stop shaking. My body sags like a twisted, wrung-out rag. I have that weird clarity and lethargy that come after an orgasm, but a thousand times stronger.
Normally, I’d rush to clean, to sort, to craft…anything to distract me from these intrusive thoughts. But in Kolya’s arms, with tears still tracking down my cheeks, I’m safe.
Protected.
I have no reason to run or hide behind happy thoughts.
His promise to “kill the whole world” rings in my ears.
I don’t want that, but just knowing he would, for me…
Another wave of sobs hits me.
My body is hot where I’m pressed against him, chest to chest, thighs to thighs. The rage that exploded out of me earlier has transformed into molten lava and pooled between my legs.
His hand rests at the nape of my neck, his fingers tangled in my hair, his heart hammering against mine.
We’re both alive.
Despite the bullets and the running and the lies.
But that’s not enough.
I pull back just enough to inspect the sharp angles of his hard, beautiful face. His dark eyes. There’s a cut above his eyebrow where the fake plant hit him, a thin trail of blood already dried on his skin.
I did that. I hurt him, and he let me.
He deserves a reward for everything he’s done for me. I should repay him. Show him how much it meant to me.
Those thoughts ignite a primal instinct I didn’t know existed.
My hands move without my permission, tearing at his shirt, desperate to touch him. His muscles, coiled and ready, tense beneath my fingers.
I’m not thinking anymore.
“Chloe.” My name in his mouth is a warning.
Can’t think.
Can only experience.
I need him.
He grabs my wrists, squeezing just hard enough that I gasp. “Stop.”
I freeze, my breath coming in shallow pants.
He suspends me in his grasp and studies my face with those impenetrable eyes.
“I need you to understand something. I can only trust you if you trust me. I can only ensure your safety if you do exactly what I say, when I say it.” His grip tightens, emphasizing his point. “Every. Command.”
A shiver races down my spine, settling low in my belly. This man—this dangerous, violent, beautiful man—is asking for complete control.
No, not asking.
Demanding.
And heaven help me, I want to give it to him.
He stays rigid. This time, I know it’s because he’s holding himself back from acting on his desires. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Say it.” His thumb traces the inside of my wrist. “Say you understand.”
The words catch in my throat. Shuddering, I lick my lips. “I understand.”
“And do you agree? Will you follow my commands?” His voice drops lower, the rumble vibrating through my chest. “No matter what I ask? I have all the time in the world to do whatever I want to you. No one will find us here.”
Exactly what I worried about when we did it quick and dirty in Brenda Smith’s basement. What more could he do with enough time?
This is a line I’ve never crossed before.
A surrender I’ve never made.
My entire life has been about control. Planning, organizing, creating a safe, predictable world where nothing bad can happen. And now he’s asking me to give that away. Give up everything.
To him.
The idea shoots that flood of molten lava through every vein in my body, heating my core.
“Yes.” I hear the truth fall from my lips like a confession, my body responding before my mind can catch up. “I’ll follow your commands.”
Satisfaction, hunger, and darker desires flash in his eyes. His grip on my wrists loosens, but he doesn’t let go. “Good girl.”
The praise enters me like a physical touch, fire rushing to my cheeks and between my legs. I’ve never considered those words erotic before, but coming from him, they’re intoxicating.
He releases one wrist and brings his hand to my face. His thumb traces my lower lip, pressing just enough to part them. “On your knees.”
My stomach flips, anticipation and nerves tangling together.
This is what I wanted. What I hoped for when I agreed to obey. I sink down, my knees hitting the hardwood floor with a dull thud. Looking up at him from this position is submissive…and powerful.
He wants me.
Me.
That truth lives in the tightness of his jaw, the darkness of his eyes, the bulge straining against his pants.
Still, my monster of a man waits, restraining himself.
He doesn’t rush or grab me or force me. He simply stands, like a predator, allowing me to make the next move.
Desperate to get my hands on him, I reach for his belt with steady fingers. The leather slides through the buckle with a soft hiss. Next comes the button, the zipper, the rustle of fabric. Then he’s in my hand, hot and hard.
I open my mouth.
But his hand tangles in my hair, stopping me. “Look at me.”
I lift my eyes to his.
Beneath the steel, they shine with raw emotion and a hint of vulnerability. “Tell me you want this.”
That little peek—the insecurity beneath the bravado—tickles the nape of my neck like a feather.
He’s human, just like me. He wants my permission.
Needs my consent.
And I give it gladly.
“I want this.” The admission is better foreplay than anything I’ve ever had with anyone else. “I want you. In every way possible.”
He nods once, the fist in my hair relaxing just enough to guide me forward. I take him into my mouth, savoring the salty musk on my tongue.
His deep groans reverberate through both our bodies.
Then he seizes control.
His hand tightens in my hair, setting the pace, pushing me farther onto him. I gag when he hits the back of my throat, my eyes watering, but he doesn’t stop or let me pull back. Instead, he tests my limits, forcing me to accept all of him.
“Breathe through your nose. Relax your throat.”
I try, focusing on his voice, on the praise that follows when I manage to take him deeper. “Good girl. It feels so good when you struggle to breathe around my cock.”
The filthy words trigger a fresh wave of heat.
They’re perfect.
This is exactly what I wanted. Needed.
Me on my knees.
Him in my mouth and controlling my movements.
There’s a freedom in this surrender that I’ve never known before that relaxes and soothes me.
I’m not Miss Chloe right now. Not the cheerful teacher. I’m just a woman, raw and real and wanted.
Knowing he sees me, that he desires me just as I am… Intoxicating heat blooms through every part of me, burning from the inside out.
This sensation threatens to incinerate me.
“Look at you.” He brushes my hair back, out of my way, and squeezes the strands. “Taking my cock so deep. You’re so strong…so great at this. Such a good girl.”
The praise drags a moan from me, the vibration in my throat causing his hips to jerk forward. He fucks my mouth harder, his control slipping a tiny bit. He’s getting close, his rhythm becoming more erratic, his breathing more ragged.
Then he pulls back, withdrawing from my mouth with a wet sound that should embarrass me but doesn’t. I peer up at him, confused, my lips swollen and slick.
“Stand up.”
With shaky deer legs, I obey. He circles me slowly, his eyes raking over my body like he’s memorizing every inch. When he’s behind me, he leans close, his breath hot against my ear.
“Strip.” The simple, direct command leaves no room for hesitation.
My hands tremble as I reach for the hem of my shirt. I pull it over my head and let the fabric fall to the floor. My bra follows, then my pants and thong. Each piece of clothing removed makes me more vulnerable. More his.
“You wore your lacy things. For me.”
My soaked pussy wets my thighs.
I did.
He knows.
When I’m completely naked, he circles me again, his gaze tangible on my skin. He stops in front of me, his expression unreadable.
“On your hands and knees.”
I comply, lowering myself to the floor. The hardwood is cool against my palms and knees. In this position, I’m utterly exposed, utterly his. My mind races ahead, anticipating what comes next. His hands on me, his body over mine, inside me.
“Now,” Kolya’s voice drops to that dangerous register that has my body clenching, “crawl to the bedroom.”
The order catches me off guard.
I shift to glance at him from over my shoulder, not sure I’ve heard correctly. “What?”
His hand comes down on my ass with a sharp crack, the sting spreading across my skin like wildfire. I gasp, more from surprise than pain.
“I said crawl. Or have you already forgotten our agreement?”
I hesitate, torn between embarrassment and the unexpected heat blooming where his hand struck.
His palm connects with my other cheek, harder this time. “When I give you an order, you obey. Immediately.” Each word is precise and measured.
The second spank jolts straight through me, a lightning strike of painful pleasure that has me squeezing my thighs together. My hesitation isn’t from reluctance anymore.
I want him to hit me again.
Somehow, he knows.
The sting of his palm lingers on my skin, a hot handprint that pulses with my heartbeat. I drop my head, gazing at the floor between my hands. The shame I expected never happens.
Instead, I reach a strange sense of clarity, like the world has suddenly come into focus. I start to crawl, my palms and knees shuffling across the hardwood toward the bedroom.
Awareness ripples through my body with each movement. The sway of my breasts, the wet slide of my most intimate parts, the vulnerability of my position.
I’ve never felt more raw.
Kolya follows behind me, his footsteps unhurried.
The weight of his gaze traces over my skin, tracking every movement, every tremor.
The bedroom doorway looms ahead. I cross the threshold, the rug in front of the bed rough against my palms after the smooth hardwood.
I stop in the center of the room, unsure what comes next.
“Good girl.”
The simple words trigger a wave of pleasure that rivals any physical touch.
He crouches, one hand tracing the reddened skin of my ass where he spanked me.
His touch is gentle now, almost reverent.
“You learn quickly.” His fingers trail lower, finding the wetness leaking down my thighs.
“And you like it.” A statement of fact. “You like being told what to do. Being punished when you disobey.”
I should deny what he says.
Should be horrified that this dangerous man has discovered this secret part of me I didn’t even know existed.
But I can’t lie. Not to him. Not anymore.
“Yes.”
“I know.” He slides a finger inside me, then another, his thumb circling my clit with devastating precision. “I knew from the first moment I saw you. All that brightness, all that control…waiting to be broken. You were just begging for someone strong enough.”
He speaks a truth I’ve been running from my entire life. I’ve spent years building walls of positivity and routine, masking my true essence.
And with one touch from a man, my walls crumbled.
This man.
My monster.
Kolya’s fingers move faster, deeper, his other hand tangling in my hair. He pulls my head back to force me to look into his eyes, at the way he looms over my body.
“You were made for this. Made to be owned. Controlled. Cherished.”
The orgasm builds with shocking speed, a tidal wave I can’t outrun.
I cry out as it crashes over me, my body clenching around his fingers, my back arching into his touch. He works me through the relentless pleasure, drawing out every last shudder until I’m a gasping, quaking mess.
I’m not sure I’ll survive this man after all.