Chapter 17
Dmitri
As soon as we leave the hospital and the cool air of the evening hits our faces, Leah sobers up.
I sober up, too. Reconciling with Danica was a big positive, but I can’t forget—it happened in the cardiac unit waiting room. I could have lost my grandfather tonight.
My feelings are mixed. I don’t want him to die. I love him even while I hate him. He’s a monster—and he might be the key to understanding my monstrous self.
If he dies, there will be no recovering the easy relationship we once had. I’ll mourn that chance as much as I’d mourn his death.
It’s so fucked up. I want to rewind to my eighteenth birthday. The hour before I saw those horrific things in that warehouse. I never should’ve gone inside. They changed how I saw my grandfather.
“Hey.” Leah’s voice drags me from my vicious thought cycle. “Talk to me.”
I let her lead me to a bench near the hospital doors. She sits down and tugs my hand so I sit next to her.
“Something’s going through your mind right now.” She strokes the backs of my fingers, fidgeting with them, opening and closing my fist. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
I shake my head no , but I really mean yes. “I almost lost my grandfather tonight, and I’m so fucking pissed, I want to hit something. But I also…it would be a relief, in some ways. There are parts of him that—fuck. Never mind.”
Leah doesn’t press. What she does is worse—she waits.
I can’t tell her the full story, but I can give her parts. “He found out that I’m dominant, back when I was a teenager.”
Leah stills. “Do I want to ask how he found out?”
“It was fucking embarrassing. He saw porn on my phone. Then he told me I’m just like him.”
“Huh.” Leah laughs softly. “Things we never wanted to know about your granddad.”
“Right?” I close my eyes, blocking out the parking lot in front of us, going back to the warehouse on my eighteenth birthday.
Leah nudges me with her shoulder. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Breathe in. Out. In. I’m here, with her. Not there, with him. The bench is hard beneath my ass, the April night cool against my face.
“He’s not a good guy. I mean, he’s an excellent grandfather.
No complaints, other than how he initially took Patrick’s side after Patrick hurt you.
He truly cares about his family.” I wish I could tell her more, but something stops me.
Familial loyalty? Or shame? “To people outside the family, though, he’s a tyrant.
A monster. And when I saw something, called him out on it?
He reminded me that I’m just like him. If I’m a monster, so are you . He told me it was in my blood.”
“Dmitri, no.”
“You don’t have to believe me. It’s better you don’t, honestly.” I rub my eyes. This conversation can’t be over soon enough.
“What did you see?”
I shake my head. “Just trust me when I say it was bad.”
“Okay. I trust you.” She turns and swings a leg over my lap, straddling me on the bench so our faces are close. “But trust me when I say that you are not a monster, Dmitri.”
“Leah.” I wrap my arms around her, pulling her closer so I can bury my face against her neck. “The things I want to do to you sometimes?—”
“Have you done them?”
“Some of them. Not everything.” I drag in a deep breath, taking in her scent. “Some would hurt you.”
“And if I said no , or if I said red , would you do them?”
My voice comes out rough. “No. Fuck no. Never.”
“Then you aren’t a monster. A monster would do them anyway.”
I stare into her eyes. They look black because she’s backlit by a streetlamp, but even then, I think I can see the little flecks of gold within. “Leah, I don’t deserve you.”
“You do. And I know we could argue my instincts are broken—like, what the fuck was I even doing, dating Mick? But everything in me urges me to trust you. I promise, you’re no monster.”
For the first time, I might believe it. I gather her into my arms.
Leah squeezes me back. “Should we get going?”
“I guess so.” I help her off my lap and stand. I’ve had enough of the heavy conversation, and she probably has, too.
“So, where are we headed?” she asks as I lead her toward my car.
“We’ll get something to eat, baby girl. We can discuss your impertinence over dinner.
” Although, now that I think about it, she was drinking.
It’s a rule at Low Vice not to scene under the influence.
And it’s a rule for a reason. Honesty and communication are integral to the motto of safe, sane, and consensual.
Too bad. A full scene, with choking, maybe some other restraints, is fucking tempting.
Leah waves her free hand at me. Her wrist brace surprises me, and I feel angry all over again that someone hurt her. She gives me a little pout. “Psh, I haven’t been impertinent.”
We reach my car and I lean Leah against it, caging her with my arms. She looks so small, defenseless. Like she needs me to protect her. So no full scene for her this evening, not when she’s buzzed.
That doesn’t mean we can’t play a little, though.
I press my forehead against hers. “You’ve been very impertinent. Calling me…what was it?”
She bites her lip. I want to bite it instead.
“Leah…” I slide my hand beneath the bottom of her shirt, stroking her soft skin. “What did you call me earlier?”
“Um, when?”
“In the hospital, you naughty thing. What did you say?”
“I really can’t remember. Sorry.”
I spin her around so she’s facing the car and I’m standing behind her. “Let me remind you, then.”
“Dmitri!” Her voice is low, but outraged. “Not here .”
“Why not here? You’ve been a naughty brat in public. I should punish you in public.” Also, there’s nobody around. Yeah, it’s possible someone is sitting in their car and waiting for a friend or family member, but I don’t plan to do anything that would really expose Leah.
She tries to turn around again, but I press my hips forward, pinning her in place.
“This is embarrassing.” She shoves ineffectively at my arm and wiggles her ass.
“You’re making things very hard for me.” I whisper the words against her ear.
Her breath hitches. “Yes, I can feel how hard things are.”
“Don’t move, baby.” I bring one of my hands to the front of her jeans. “I’m hard…so, are you wet?”
“Dmitri,” she hisses, “we are in a parking lot.”
“You need to trust your daddy.” She trusts me. Even though I told her I’m a monster—she still trusts me. I unbutton her jeans and slide my hand down the front of her panties. “Spread your legs a little more, baby. Let me feel you.”
She whimpers, but complies.
“What a good little baby girl.” I kiss her temple and slide my fingers along her pussy folds. “Fuck, you’re soaked for me. Does being a brat to Daddy turn you on?”
All I get in response is a moan.
I pull my hand away. “Answer me, baby.”
“Please…”
“Mm, not good enough. Answer your daddy. Does being a brat turn you on?”
She pushes her hips forward, trying to nudge herself toward my hand. If she were sober, if we were someplace more private, I’d spank her for disobeying. Instead, I settle for punishing her by taking my fingers away.
“Noooo,” she moans.
“I’m waiting for your words, little Leah.”
She shifts her legs back and forth. “I forgot the question.”
“Does being”—I push my hand down to rub her clit once—“a brat”—I rub it again—“turn you on?”
“Yes, yes—being a brat turns me on. I love it when you discipline me, Dmitri. Please…”
“I knew you could use your words. Now for your reward.” I slide my fingers back and forth.
She’s fucking soaked. I’m hard as stone, grinding against her ass, wishing we didn’t have clothes in the way. Leah pushes against me like she has the same wish. Like if we rub hard enough, we’ll vaporize the fabric.
“Daddy, please.” Her breathing is fast, heavy.
“I got you.” I slide two fingers inside of her, rubbing her clit with the heel of my hand. “We’ll take care of those naughty urges right away. Come on my fingers, baby.”
She cries out, then covers her mouth. Her pussy convulses around my fingers, tight pulses that have me swearing under my breath.
I put my free hand on her throat. Not squeezing, just reminding her that I’m here, that I’m the one carrying her through this orgasm in a dark parking lot.
“I got you, I got you,” I repeat, holding her tight through the aftershocks of her release.
After a long, tender moment, she becomes restless.
I take my hand away and fasten her jeans. “You okay?”
She turns in my arms so she’s facing me again. Her smile is slow and sultry. “I’m fucking great. But what about you? Are things still hard for you?”
“Harder than ever. I’m taking you out to dinner like I promised. Then we’ll go back to my place and you can sit on Daddy’s cock.”
* * *
Gage
The week has gone by quickly. I had another therapy appointment.
Leah has thrown herself into helping Olivia and her other new friends with last-minute details for the benefit.
I half-heartedly attempt to coax her into wearing a deep purple gown to the benefit.
I wouldn’t mind watching Dmitri’s reaction when Leah shows up not wearing the gold gown.
Unfortunately, she sees through my ruse.
Perhaps I ought to return to acting classes.
When Leah comes out of her room, my heart stutters in my chest. Yes, I’ve seen her in the gold dress before, at the shop. Before, she was stunning. Now, she steals the breath from my lungs. Her make-up glitters like her dress, and the shy, tender smile that plays on her lips rocks me off-center.
She does a little spin. “Is it okay?”
“Turn around again.” The words come out strangled. I clear my throat and repeat myself.
“It’s bad?” She spins.
She isn’t wearing a bra—she can’t, really, with the fit of the gown. Her tits are mouthwatering.
“It’s so good, I want to keep you here, little girl. I want to see how the fabric stretches over nipple clamps. Then I want to hike up that dress and make you warm my cock all night.”
Her breath catches in a soft gasp. “I…so, you hate the dress?”
I chuckle. “I hate it so very much.”
“Maybe I should wear the purple.”
“Dmitri would never forgive us.” I check my watch. “He’s most likely on his way over now.”
The plan is for Dmitri and Leah to arrive together.
Given the recent issues with Nic and the resulting media scramble, we decided this was best. Now that I’m looking at Leah all dressed up for the night, there’s an additional benefit.
If I went with her, we likely wouldn’t make it out of the car without a severe rumpling of fabric and ruining of hair and makeup.
Her phone chimes on the coffee table. She sashays over to check the message.
“It’s Dmitri.” She laughs. “He’s here. He added, ‘You better be wearing the gold dress, little girl.’ I’m going to fuck with him and send a picture of the purple fabric.”
“That’s very naughty.” I stride forward and grab her wrists, tugging them behind her back. “Are you trying to earn punishment?”
She grins up at me. “Maybe?”
“I love it when you play the brat.” I lick the edge of her ear. “You know that, don’t you? When I punish you for it, it’s not because I want you to stop. I want you to misbehave, little girl.”
“So you can punish me more?”
“Yes.”
She grins, sticks out her tongue, and licks the side of my face. “Oops. Was that naughty, too?”
“Very. Do you need a bite of pain every now and again, little one?” I tug her wrists back far enough, she gasps. I release her immediately, remembering her recently sprained wrist. The brace came off two days ago. “You gasped. Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m okay. It was a good gasp.” She rolls her wrists, stretching them.
I grasp them again, far gentler this time. “I’ll have to find nipple clamps that can work with your gowns. We can’t leave them on for too long, but a trip to the restroom during a party is easy enough to manage.”
“You wouldn’t.” She shakes her head.
With my other hand, I grip one of her nipples through the dress. Her lack of a bra makes it easier.
“Daddyyyy.”
“Yes, little girl?”
“I—I need to come. Before I go to the party.”
I squeeze harder. “I don’t think so. You’ll have more fun with the anticipation, don’t you think?”
“Please.” She whimpers. “I’ll behave, I promise?—”
The buzzer sounds. I let go of her nipple.
Leah blinks, startled.
I kiss her forehead. “Dmitri’s here, sweetheart.”
“Oh. Right.” She shakes her head, trying to clear the fog of lust. “I need to get my clutch. Be right back.”
From the back, her tattoo is framed by the gold dress straps. It’s a work of art on its own, framed by another work of art—the dress, and worn by a third work of art—Leah.
She’s confident, and she’s happy, and that’s all I can ask for as her Daddy Dom.
I stare until she’s out of sight. Then I open the door for Dmitri.
His eyes widen as he takes in the penthouse. “Betty always talks about your ‘introvert castle.’ I was picturing something a bit more medieval. But here we are in a billionaire’s lifestyle inspo catalog.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I bet you have a private gym, too.”
I have no comment for that.
He laughs. “You fucking do, don’t you?”
“I won’t dignify that with a response.”
“Heaven forbid the great Gage Jannik has to mix with the masses in a public gym.” He laughs again, while I give him my deadest stare.
When Leah walks into the living room, however, his laughter fades. “Goddamn, fucking hell. You look amazing, baby.”
She looks down, visibly pleased. “Um, should we get going? We don’t want to arrive too late.”
“I don’t know.” He looks her up and down, his expression wolfish. “I’m tempted to stay right here.”
“Yes, Gage said something similar.” She rolls her eyes. “But I promised Olivia, and I’m not letting this dress go to waste.”
“Let’s go have fun, then, baby girl.” He holds out his arm for her to take. “Gage, see you there.”
“I’ll be following soon. I won’t go in the main entrance, so I’ll look for you after I arrive.”
“Sounds good.” Leah starts to take Dmitri’s arm, then turns and rushes to me.
I pull her into my arms and kiss her sweet face, careful not to smudge her make-up. With a careful fingertip, I touch her lower lip. “I believe this shade of lipstick would look good wrapped around my cock.”
She shivers and flutters her eyelashes. “I’ve been looking forward to this benefit for the past week. Now I can’t wait for it to be over.”
“You and me both, little girl.”