Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“If you think for a second that I’m going to be able to concentrate enough to get more than a bite or two, you’re not nearly as smart as we both know you are.
That orgasm barely took the edge off.” She lifted her hips to press herself more firmly against his hand.
“I want you. I want your hands and your mouth and your cock, and I want you now. Get the food to go and you can feed it to me in bed—after.”
For several endless moments, she thought he’d tell her no and reiterate his order for her to eat. Instead, Dmitri nodded once. “Start walking.”
She blinked. “What?”
He kissed her. His tongue tangled with hers even as the feeling of him overwhelmed her.
The man kissed like a homecoming warrior who considered her part of his spoils of war.
He broke away, leaving both of them breathing harshly.
“Better yet—run. If I catch you before you make it back to the house, I’ll fuck you right there on the sidewalk. ”
She shivered. It could be bravado, but with the monster beneath the mask peeking out at her, she didn’t think so. He was Dmitri fucking Romanov, and he could do exactly what he promised without consequence. Keira licked her lips. “My art—”
“I’ll take care of it.” He waited for her to meet his gaze. “Pavel will follow, and my men hold several key locations in this area. You’ll be safe the entire time.”
Even in the midst of his frenzy, he was still taking care of her. She took a shuddering breath. “In that case, catch me if you can.”
Keira managed to keep her pace even as she wove through the tables to the front door.
Pavel had taken up a spot against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.
He straightened when he caught sight of her, his brows dropping in confusion.
Her body hummed with the need to move, but she knew better than to bolt without saying something.
She wanted Dmitri focused on her, not distracted because he was worried she might be snatched off the street. “Home, Pavel. Now,” she ground out.
He nodded and fell into step behind her.
She ran.
Dmitri was a man possessed. He had the presence of mind to be careful with Keira’s purchases, but he strode through the streets at a fast clip that dared anyone to get in his path or slow him down.
The restaurant was only three blocks from the house, but it might as well have been miles.
The crowd in front of him parted like the Red Sea, and he caught sight of Keira turning the corner to their home, Pavel shadowing her.
She shot a look over her shoulder at Dmitri and grinned, her hand flying out in the universal come and get it gesture.
At that, what little part of him that cared about propriety snuffed out. He picked up his pace until he was sprinting after her. She still made it to the house before he did, but not by much.
He caught her on the stairs.
Dmitri dropped the bags on the floor and snatched her upper arm, swinging her to face him.
Keira hit his chest, and he grabbed the banister to keep them from tumbling down the stairs.
The sound of footsteps moving away from them assured him that Pavel was making himself scarce.
He’ll need a fucking raise by the time this is all through.
Dmitri half expected Keira to try to keep running. He should have known better. She shrugged out of her blazer and ripped his shirt from his slacks, sending buttons flying as she shoved it down his arms. “You caught me.”
He shredded her shirt and yanked down her skirt.
The garter belt, he left alone. Dmitri hit his knees on the bottom step and buried his face in her pussy.
He craved the taste of her, needed to feel her come apart and know he was the reason behind it, needed another tether to bind her to him so she’d never try to leave.
I don’t know what I’d do if she was gone.
Keira’s heels slipped on the hardwood steps, and he barely caught her before she hit the stairs.
As it was, they still toppled, her sprawling beneath him, his mouth never leaving her.
He started to lift his head to ensure she was okay, but she threaded her fingers through his hair and kept him in place, riding his mouth as all the sexy little cries she’d kept stifled at the restaurant poured from her lips.
Her orgasm wasn’t enough. He needed more.
All of her. He shucked off his pants and crawled between her thighs, thrusting into her with a rough move.
Dmitri tried to pull back, to regain some kind of control, to perhaps move this upstairs and away from anyone who might walk in, but Keira kissed him and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Yes, Dima. There. Fuck me like that.” She slid her foot down the back of his thigh and up again. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“I’ll never get enough of you. You are mine and I am yours, and I’m keeping you for the rest of our fucking lives.
I love you, you reckless woman, and I’m never letting you go,” he growled in Russian.
He shoved into her harder, responding to her cries of more, more, yes, ohmygod yes.
Her orgasm hit, her pussy milking him, the feeling too good to deny.
He wanted his cum in her, marking her like the fucking savage he was.
Dmitri let go, burying his face in her neck as his strokes shuddered and he came hard enough to see stars. “God in heaven above.”
Keira laughed softly. “I don’t think God had anything to do with what we just did.” She shifted and winced. “Damn.”
He lifted his head. “What’s wrong?”
Her smile came accompanied with another wince. “Hardwood stairs are a bitch.”
“Fuck. Fuck.” He pushed off her and pulled her up to sit in a single move.
Bruises already darkened her pale skin, and there were scrapes where his thrusts had shoved her against the edges of the steps.
For the first time in his life, he felt sick at the sight of someone else’s pain.
“I’m sorry.” Dmitri scooped her up and stood.
“I’m not.” She let her head fall against his shoulder. Her expression looked blissed-out, not regretful or pained at all, but the only thing he could focus on was the damage he’d done to her.
Dmitri did not lose control. Not ever. And yet every time he turned around, he was doing exactly that with Keira.
He kicked the bedroom door shut behind him and bypassed the bed in favor of the tub. A hot soak wouldn’t help the scrapes, but it would ease the soreness. “Can you stand?”
“Yes, Dima, I can stand because I’m perfectly okay. It’s going to take more than a deliciously rough fucking to screw me up.”
He believed her, but that didn’t mean his actions were excused. He set her carefully on her feet and got the water running. Only then did he sit on the edge of the tub and set his hands on her hips. “Turn around.”
She rolled her eyes, but she obeyed. He sucked in a harsh breath. It was worse than he’d thought. “Keira—”
“No. Absolutely not.” She spun back to face him, her hazel eyes furious.
“Tonight was good for me—all of it. Really fucking good. I need you to not ruin it with some misplaced guilt that you should be beyond. If you didn’t notice, I was screaming your name as I came for the third time on those stairs.
” She glared. “And you don’t hear me losing my shit because I scratched your back to hell. ”
“That’s different.” He welcomed the marks she left, the physical representation of her abandon.
But he recognized a losing battle when he saw one. As sick as her bruises left him, if he pushed this, he’d lose all the ground they’d covered tonight—and likely more. She had him cornered and she damn well knew it. He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. “Let me take care of you.”
“You have been taking care of me.” She stepped between his thighs and slid her fingers through his hair.
“But I’ll make you a deal. You can hover over and mother hen me for the duration of this bath, then you’ll slap some Neosporin on my scrapes, give me a couple ibuprofen, and we’ll eat leftovers in bed.
Or not in bed. I don’t give a fuck, but once the endorphins wear off, I’m going to be hungry. ”
She was handling him—offering him tasks to redirect his guilt.
He almost fought her on it, but what was the point?
If she said she was fine, and he didn’t take her at her word, he wasn’t honoring the vision he’d painted for her.
She didn’t believe him when he offered for her to be his queen in truth, and overriding her on something that she considered small—even if he didn’t—would confirm her belief that he was lying about everything else.
He dropped his forehead to rest between her breasts. “You’re not giving me much of a choice, moya koroleva.”
“I know.” She kept stroking her fingers through his hair. “But at least I’m giving you a choice at all.”