Chapter 13 #2
His gaze was relentless, full of unbridled hunger, his chest rising and falling as he crowded my space.
When he dragged his tongue across his lower lip, I almost lost control of everything, becoming completely undone.
He had to know what he was doing to me, tearing apart what was left of my resolve, shattering my inhibitions.
I shifted so my back was against the cool granite tile, uncertain how I’d survive such a powerful man whose needs were never satisfied.
My breathing remained shallow while his chest was heaving. With such tenderness I barely noticed him moving, he pressed his knuckles against my face just under my eyes. Rage embroiled him, his entire face reflecting the anger that he’d yet been able to fully control.
“Etot ublyudok budet stradat’.” The words were gritted out, guttural.
“What did you say?” I whispered.
“I said the bastard would suffer. No man is allowed to harm a woman.”
I took his hand into mine, slowly turning it and pressing kisses against his palm. The water cascaded over us both, but it didn’t matter. As much as something inside me said this wasn’t a good decision, I just didn’t care. Not right now. Not when he was exposing the man inside.
“I’m fine, Sasha. He did suffer the worse end of the stick.”
His laugh was subtle. “Yes, he did. You’re a fascinating woman. All the twists and turns within you are highly intriguing.”
“You make me sound like a complicated video game.”
“You’re much more than that.”
“I’m just me.” Just a lost girl trying to find her way back home.
The fury in his eyes faded, replaced with the same carnal need exposed in the living room.
I’d never heard him so possessive, so intoxicatingly dominating.
I curled his fingers, pursing my lips together as he flexed his hand open, brushing the rough pads of his fingers over my breasts to my stomach.
“Touch yourself, malen’kaya babochka. Show me how much you want me. How much you crave my cock.”
Everything about him was different, so dominating that I was breathless, no, fractured by need that I was the one about to come undone.
With the water splashing across our heated bodies, I pressed my hand against my stomach, flexing my fingers. There was no way I could take my eyes off him. With his dark eyes fixated on me, I wasn’t certain I was even reacting as he wanted.
With scattered breaths, my hand drifted lower until my fingers were between my legs. My pulse was racing, blood pumping against my temples and every inch of my body aching. That’s the kind of effect he had on me. I’d lost myself in him. No rhyme. No reason.
No sanity.
There was no doubt the man would ravage me, taking every inch as if he’d owned me since the beginning.
Sasha’s chest rose and fell, his muscles strained as if he could barely contain himself. I rolled one finger around my clit in slow circles, becoming fearful I’d lose my nerve. Terrified that I’d disappoint him. The wash of pleasure was an instant rush and my legs began to shake more than before.
When I lolled my head to the side, he cupped my chin, bringing it forward.
“Keep your eyes on me, beautiful butterfly. I want to watch you pleasure yourself.”
He was even more commanding, allowing me to see a side of him I’d sensed. Yet he’d been almost romantic, tender in the way he’d touched me.
That was over. This was all about claiming me, breaking down the last of my defenses.
I should feel vulnerable, but I felt safe instead.
A moan slipped past my lips after only a few seconds and the scent of my desire was unmistakable. I pressed my other hand against the wall, fearing my feet would slip on the slick floor. Somehow, I knew he’d catch me.
That’s how much I trusted him.
I rubbed harder, thrusting one then a second finger inside my pussy. I was tight, yet my muscles clenched around them, pulling them in deeper. I was almost frantic in my actions, longing to be set free with a mind-blowing orgasm.
His growl was dark, his nostrils flaring. “Nice and slow, my good girl. We have all night.”
Every word dripped of increasing hunger.
There was no choice but to obey him, but it wasn’t as if I didn’t want to. Because I did. I wanted to be his good girl.
Heat curled between my legs, a wildfire in my core.
I added a third finger, sliding in and out just like he’d instructed.
He cocked his head, his gaze searing my skin.
I craved to touch him, tracing his tattoos.
I longed to have his mouth on my pussy, licking my clit. Tongue fucking me as he’d done before.
Still breathless, a series of whimpers escaped as stars floated in front of my eyes. I wouldn’t be able to hold on for very long.
His eyes only darkened as I gyrated my hips, moving in time to music funneling through my mind. At this moment I was an entirely different woman, a girl eager to please her master while spreading her wings like the butterfly he’d nurtured.
The wash of heat and electricity was stifling. My fingers were slickened by my juice, tiny beads trickling down the insides of both legs. The scent was stronger. My breath more ragged. My heart skipping beats.
“I’m going to come.”
“Not until I allow you.” His growl was deep and husky.
The feeling was incredible. I wanted his hands on me, his tongue lapping my cream. I needed his cock shoved deep inside allowing me to feel the throes of passion and pure ecstasy.
Every sound was exaggerated, every breath stolen.
He gripped my thighs, stretching my legs and brushing the rough tips of his fingers against my skin. It was almost too much, every inch of me becoming sensitive. I could tell by the look on his face he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
Another wave of heat curled through me, crazed and dizzying. I was sliding down the wall. No, he was holding me, keeping me in position.
When he raked his finger around my clit, I was certain there was no chance I could obey him. I did. Somehow, I managed to cling to the invisible leash he had, willing myself to be that good girl.
Yet when he thrust his finger inside, touching mine, I was ready to beg. My muscles clenched around him, the hard pulse thrumming in my ears.
His chuckle was dark and deep and I watched in utter fascination as he slipped his finger into his mouth, sucking while I stood shaking and gawking.
“Please. I need to come.”
Why was every expression on his face more dominating than the one before? He was in total control, taking me to the highest of highs before ripping me back to reality. I couldn’t focus, echoes of my moans bouncing in my ears.
“Not yet. Not until you’re ready.”
What in the hell did he mean by that?
He pulled away, his eyes darting to another area in the shower. What was he looking for? I realized what he was doing only seconds before he jerked me around to face the wall.
The bath brush?
What?
My heart almost stopped beating as a wave of adrenaline pumped through my veins. He planted my hands where he wanted them, forcing my palms against the wall. I threw a look over my shoulder, licking drops of water off my lips. Trying to see. Longing to know what he had planned.
He twirled the long-handled brush several times. Every sound he made left me spinning, losing control of my mind and body.
The brutal crack of the wood against my bottom was jarring and I rolled onto the balls of my feet. “Shit. Shit.” I bit my cheek, trying to keep from screaming. The pain was biting, tearing through me faster than the shard of electricity.
His sounds escalated as he smacked my buttocks several times, moving back and forth. When he took a breath, allowing me to come down from the near high he’d driven me to, I pressed my cheek against the wall. My pussy was still throbbing, the scent of raging desire stronger than before.
Yet I knew his required discipline wasn’t finished.
As he rolled his fingers down my spine, he hummed as if thinking of the perfect song. I almost laughed. Maybe he thought this was romantic. This side of him was even more exciting, keeping me tingling all over.
Another hard crack was jarring.
My mind spinning.
My pulse racing.
My eyelashes fluttered across my cheeks as the brutal pounding of my heart drowned out almost everything else. We were in a sweet vacuum, both becoming lost to the intense moment.
Another three smacks.
Another rush of desire.
“Please. I need to come.” Now I was begging shamelessly, no longer concerned about surrendering to him.
It was my choice.
My need.
“Mmm… Soon, little butterfly. Soon.” The touch of his fingers was stimulating yet comforting, but soon I was reminded that I’d yet to become his good girl.
With every crack of the brush, my pussy clenched tighter. I was so wet and hot, steam rising in the shower so I couldn’t see clearly. But why was it necessary? I was able to feel everything clearly. So alive. So on edge. So…
As the spanking continued, I licked my lips, melting against the wall and opening my legs wider for him. When I arched my back, jutting out my hips in a blatant invitation, he cursed in Russian. There was no need for clarification.
He wanted me as much as I craved him.
All of him.
“Eyes on me, butterfly.”
I looked over my shoulder. He was no longer man but beast, so handsome I was swooning. So possessive I was thrown by how amazing that felt.
Four more savage smacks and he lifted his head, the growl emitted slow and easy. A hum formed in every muscle. When his gaze met mine again, he took several deep breaths before sliding the brush between my legs. My, oh, my. The sensations bolted through me. Sparks of current and red-hot fire.
I was still on my toes, clinging to the wall as if it was a lifeline. The smooth back of the brush was almost soothing, lulling me into a peaceful moment. The feeling was short lived as he twisted the brush until the bristles connected with my swollen folds.
“Oh, God. Oh, my God.” The lightheaded feeling was stronger than before. I was so sensitive yet never wanted him to stop.
Every stroke was powerful and once again, I was ready to come. Eager. Hungry.
His eyes turned molten, his expression hard just like the man.
The dizziness increased, but I knew he was right here. He’d never allow me to fall.
I was desperate, my needs escalating. I had to come. I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t.
He rubbed my pussy several times. Nothing about him appeared to be in a rush. He was enjoying tormenting me, dragging me to the very edge of my sanity.
And in truth, I was all for it.
Pulling the brush away, he slipped it under his nose, taking a long, deep breath. This was filthy and delicious, a dangerous combination that I never wanted to end.
Sasha wasn’t finished yet, flipping the brush and using the handle to tease me. As he rubbed the edge of the wood against one thigh, I struggled with what was left of my sanity. Unable to control myself, I pushed away from the wall. It was a blatant offering.
Another deep, dark chuckle.
Another drag of his tongue across his lower lip.
Another look that told me without a shadow of a doubt that I belonged to him.
Then he pressed the handle against my pussy and I almost lost it. With practiced measure, he slipped it inside.
With his jaw strained and his muscles tense, he twirled the handle, inch by inch filling me. Controlling me.
Owning me.
“Come for me, malen’kaya babochka. Come.”
There was no denying his command.
The man was everything I’d craved yet tarnished by years of unwanted control.
Yet he’d corrupted me in delicious, irrevocable ways.
My body would always betray me when I was with him. Today was no exception. As a climax rocketed through me, I was momentarily lost in pure euphoria. No light and no sound were able to penetrate the incredible moment. I finally heard my sharp cry and smiled. The exhilaration was sweet.
How was it possible this beautiful Russian with the voice of a demon could break the ice, forge a bond, and allow me to shiver with desire from the sinful thoughts and actions?
Perhaps the answer was simple.
Because he owned me.