CHAPTER 19
Petal
“A demonstration?” I stutter. My brain lags behind my body, taking entirely too long to realize the vulnerable position I’m in with Zinovy above me like this.
My body wants to preen like a cat capturing the feathered ball that dances and jumps. To arch and writhe between the iron thighs clamped around me. I force myself to be still, waiting to see what Zinovy does next.
“Da, I think you want to belong to me, moya malen’kaya pitschka.” He leans down to run his nose along my jawline to the sensitive spot beneath my ear, nipping at the tender skin. The tiny bite of pain nearly distracts me from the melodic sound of Zinovy’s Russian words.
“What is ‘moymalinkapitchpa’?” I ask, stumbling over the unfamiliar sounds.
“It means you are my little bird. Mine. My pet to hold and play with and care for.” There’s zero hesitance in his claim. Just pure, unfettered confidence in his right to own me like property.
Part of me wants to fight his claim. To buck and thrash until he’s unseated from his perch above me.
To escape not only his brutish, Neanderthal ideas, but the man himself.
Instead, I allow the lust blooming in my core to lead.
I ache for the slide of skin against skin.
The press of solidly masculine weight pushing my body deeper into the plush mattress beneath me.
Perhaps, it’s a failure of inner strength, but I can’t lie to myself. There’s no part of me that isn’t delighting in the barely leashed violence Zinovy represents. The savagery he isn’t apologizing for and promises to use on anyone who hurts me feels like a battle shield between me and the world.
“I’m a woman, not a pet…” Dignity compels me to make at least a token argument, even as lust makes it a lie.
“You are both, malyshka. A woman to awaken my cock and provide it a home, and a pet to pleasure and master.” His hands work the knotted belt of my robe, undoing the tangle with ease.
“You can’t master me!” I bluster, even as he winds the soft velour of the robe’s belt around my wrists until the figure eights are tight enough to immobilize my hands.
“I will prove you wrong, my Petal. To both of our immense pleasures. Now, hold tight to the slats of the headboard, or else, I will fasten you to them.”
His order has my fingers obeying without conscious direction from my brain.
There is no discussion of consent. Zinovy isn’t requesting my permission, but somehow, I feel confident if I object, he’ll respect my wishes.
Having been in the position of having my body forced against my wishes, I feel the consideration he takes to ensure my comfort and willingness in every move he makes.
“Very good, little bird. You obey me so beautifully. Now, do not let go. I am going to finally devour this body that has had me aching for so long.” He flips each lapel of the robe away from my body, leaving me exposed in the morning light filling the room.
Modesty has no place between us as Zinovy looks his fill. His deep brown eyes rake over my body, lingering where my breasts jut toward the ceiling, nipples already beaded tight in the cool air, hungry to feel the pinch of fingers and the pull of his mouth.
“I have stolen glimpses of you in the sickly light of that storage unit enough times to know you have the body of a deity, but this, sweet girl, this is a divine moment. To see you like this, trussed beneath me and glowing in the winter sun, is a revelation. You make me wish to be a scholar with poetry ready to worship you.”
“You admit you’ve stalked me. You put cameras in my home?” I grouse, pretending the pleasure of his words hasn’t melted me into a puddle of aroused desperation.
“This is your home!” he growls, his right hand grasping me by the neck tightly enough I know he could cut my air supply with ease. His face hovers above mine until he’s so close his exhales feed my every inhale. I breathe because he wills it, the display of dominance thrilling.
“The squalor of your past is over. This is your home.” The hand gripping my throat relaxes, his fingers trailing down the center of my chest and leaving goosebumps raised in their wake.
He cups my left breast, his palm rolling over the tight nipple and fingers massaging the full globe until I’m panting, pleading.
“Yes. My home. Yours,” I babble, the words necessary to prove my acceptance of his claim.
It’s as if they unlock the gates holding back the torrent of his emotions, and they slam into me with a force that steals my breath.
I’m towed under and tossed into the rip current, pulled out into the sea of my own desperate wanting.
The intensity of it scares me, and I instinctively look to Zinovy for reassurance.
“Ah, she gets it. You see how it is to be, so desperate that logic and intellect fail. Welcome to the mania you inspire in me, moya malen’kaya pitschka.” His grin is alight with evil, but his hands roving my body are righteous.
Everywhere his fingers pinch and pluck, his lips follow to soothe with wet licks and sweet suckles.
My back arches and thrusts each breast farther into the hot recess of his mouth as he pulls the tender skin deep with his strong tongue.
My hesitations and fears scatter into nothingness as he worships my body, leaving pleasure rippling through me and demanding no service on my part.
I want to touch him in return. To show with my hands how deeply his demanding strokes and bites shake me to my core.
But he commanded me to hold on to the bed, tied my wrists together to limit my movement.
The demand to obey and receive his lust, to lie below him and submit to the mastering of my body, rings in my mind. I want to please him.
Only a short while ago, I’d mentally resolved to cater to his ego, render him malleable enough to entrust with my submission, so he’d loosen his watchfulness enough I could escape if I needed to.
Now, the urge to please him shifts to wanting his pleasure to feed my own.
Intuitively, I know Zinovy’s commitment to dominating my body is sure to bring sexual satisfaction on levels I’ve never imagined possible.
He works his way down my torso, my naked body anchored beneath him by the cage of his legs around mine.
He watches me through hooded lids and thick lashes, taking in the way my skin pinks up everywhere his teeth have been.
His wicked grin when his mouth reaches the crest of my mons does nothing to curb the dangerous aura that clings to him.
“Your smell is divine, my Petal. So wet and needy for me. This pussy needs me, does it not? Do not worry, I am here to see to your every desire. I will not leave you untended. It is my honor and my duty to ensure this pussy is always pleased.” The filth he verbalizes has nothing on the carnal way he attacks my core.
He laps at my lower lips then pushes his tongue between them to bat at my throbbing clit.
Helpless beneath him, pleasure dances over me in ripples that chase one another from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes.
Not a single inch of me is free of the spiraling bliss pushing me higher and higher until the final crest peaks and my muscles clench with the force of climax so strong I shatter.
Reason and comprehension liquify and pour out of my body in every drop of ecstasy Zinovy slurps from my soaked folds.
“Good girl, my Petal. Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs between licks, the praise following me into a state of blissed-out nothingness.