by Kresley Cole
"What are you doing? You said you had an afternoon of meetings." Scarcely an hour had gone by.
He gave a laugh. "I'm in Miami to be courted. I need none of them. When I heard your new treadmill stop, I simply called the meeting and rescheduled." He began unbuttoning his shirt. How could he make that act menacing? "You disobeyed me, kotyonok."
Even as my heart tripped, I squared my shoulders. "When bored, this kitten hops the fence."
He bared his muscular chest. I wanted to sink my nails into his sculpted pecs. Running had made me as horny as ever.
"You've ensured that my enemies--and my brothers--will find out that I've finally taken on a woman." He unbuckled his belt. "Evidently I was quite generous with gifts to her today. In fact, to the entire hotel."
I asked innocently, "Baby boy didn't like my little bell? No?" Hardening my expression, I said, "I regret nothing."
"You never do." He stepped out of his pants. "For someone who doesn't like to shop, you did well enough."
"I didn't shop. I committed retaliatory consumerism. I could've gone for jewelry, really putting the hurt on. Also, I debated washing all of your expensive suits in the hot tub."
As if I hadn't spoken, he said, "I wasn't quite ready for others to know about you yet." He pulled his boxer briefs over his dick, making it bob. "So now I'm going to discipline you for disobeying me."
"Oh, are you?" I'd meant to scoff. Instead, I sounded intrigued. "How's that?"
He entered the large shower enclosure with me. "I'm going to spank you." He yanked me close, his cock trapped between us.
More BDSM? "I don't want that. I'm not going to let you abuse me."
"Abuse is one-way, with the intent to hurt. What I do with you is for shared pleasure, and it is a two-way interaction. I'll be assessing your response, as usual."
"What does that mean?"
His mesmerizing eyes pinned my gaze. "I watch for your pupils to dilate, a sign of surrender that means you'll let me do anything to you. Sometimes I hold your wrists to take your pulse and learn what makes your heart race. Even if I'm not touching your pussy, I can tell when you start to get wet; you get a pink flush from here"--he touched the left side of my chest and ran his finger in a straight line across my skin--"to here." Dropping his hand, he grazed the backs of his fingers over one nipple. "This sweet little peak always hardens a moment faster than the other."
I exhaled a shaky breath.
"All this golden skin." He traced the tan line beside my areola. "If I lick your flesh, will I taste the sun?"
Shivers coursed over me.
"Turn around and hold on to that bar." He indicated the metal towel rack. "Prepare for your punishment."
Was I really going to try another type of BDSM? I'd relished the belt, but that hadn't hurt.
"Don't fight me."
"Por Dios, just wait."
"For what?"
"I'm doing a risk/reward analysis."
He froze, a gust of breath leaving him. "Indeed? The courtesan who hardened all the cocks in that meeting would now like to perform an analysis?"
Shouldn't I brave this out for a few minutes? Just to see what all the fuss was about? Hadn't I decided to experience as much of his mind-blowing sex as I could in my limited time with him? To explore my sexuality?
He was looking into my eyes, studying me. Would my pupils truly flare now that I'd surrendered?
He gave me a cocky smirk. "There it is." He grabbed my hips and turned me around. "Hold on to that. And do not let go, or I'll deepen your punishment."
With a swallow, I reached for the towel bar, bending over, baring myself to him even more.
I could feel his gaze on my ass and pussy. "Risk/reward," he muttered. "I don't know whether to kiss you or whip you harder."
Positioned like this, I felt utterly vulnerable. So why was I having a hard time keeping my hips still?
Especially when he followed the tan line across my ass with a reverent finger. "You made sure I saw this, revealing it in a room full of men. But it was for me."
"Maybe--"
He slapped one cheek.
The sound was loud in the enclosure, startling me as much as the hit. "Whoa!" No warning? It stung--until he began kneading me with his big hands, transforming the strike into . . . heat.
His cock pulsed against his leg just before he slapped the other side of my ass. The rap echoed off the tile.
"Look at your ass moving with my strikes." Again, he kneaded me, generating that sublime heat. "For days, this flesh has begged to be chastised." A harder slap. More massaging. "I can see how wet you're getting. You were made for this."
I was beginning to think he was right. That bloom of heat spread from my ass to my thighs and pussy, to low in my belly.
With his next slap, I turned my head and moaned against my arm. He massaged me so perfectly.
"If you make me jealous, Katya, you play a dangerous game." Slap. He was breathing more heavily. "When those men leered at you in that thong, I had the impulse to tear off that bell with my teeth and fuck you in front of all of them--so they'd know who makes you scream."
His jealousy hit me like a drug. I shook.
"I am fucking you. No one else. I alone own your body." Slap.
I should be appalled by what he was saying; I could listen to his dark musings for days.
"You are my prized possession, and they coveted you." Did he just call me a possession? "When other men covet what's mine, I want to punish them. And you." SLAP.
The fiercest one yet. I hissed in a breath through my teeth. But right when I raised my ass for another, the devil stopped.
"Why did you quit?"
"Because now I need to fuck this"--he rubbed his cock along the wet lips of my pussy--"more than I need to chastise your ass. Spread your legs."
I eagerly did, and he pressed the crown to my core. With his heated palms, he clutched my hips. Without warning, he shoved forward and snatched me back at the same time.
The thrust ripped a cry from my lungs and sent me up on my toes--but I was slick, ready for his invasion.
"I knew you would love that." He reached his hands around, cupping my breasts. Then he pinched one peak, hard.
I gasped, and when my pussy clenched in reaction, he made a pained sound. "This as well." He seized my other nipple, tweaking both between his merciless fingers--so why was I arching for more?
"I'm going to clamp these, dushen'ka." He squeezed them as he thrust. "It will drive you crazy. We've got time."
When he released my nipples, I moaned as blood returned to them. I gazed down, marveling at how engorged they were, how lurid a sight. I could feel my own breaths fanning over the hypersensitive tips.
While I hung on to that bar, he poured some kind of bath oil over my ass, continuing his massage. One hand gripped my hip to hold me steady. With his other hand, his seeking fingers dipped between my curves. Would he touch my ass as I had his?
Even expecting the contact, when he stroked me dead center, I jerked, trying to tuck my hips.
His laugh rumbled. "You really are a virgin there. Your other man doesn't play with you like this?"
I didn't bother arguing.
"His loss." Sevastyan resumed his exploration, circling me with the pad of his slickened thumb. "Do not release your grip on the bar. No matter what I do." He dipped his thumb down, pressing. Was he going to penetrate me?
The pleasure was unknown to me, peculiar--but no less intense. I arched my back down, sending my ass even higher. He pressed and oiled, pressed and oiled, while I shook from the onslaught of sensation.
Then, inside. I moaned, dazed by how good it felt.
He groaned, "So goddamn tight."
I peered over my shoulder at Sevastyan's face.
His blue eyes were transfixed on my ass, on his finger penetrating me. His expression was possessive, as if he gazed at something he was proud to own. "I'm going to be the first one to fuck your beautiful ass."
"N-now?"
&
nbsp; "Not yet. You'll anticipate it."
"Devil!"
Another low laugh. With his other hand, he reached around me, his fingers roving over my pussy. "Ah, my Katya's sweet, needy little clit." He rubbed it as he began thrusting his cock, his thumb still wedged inside me.
I was overloaded with pleasure, couldn't decide if I wanted to shove my ass back at him or rock my hips to his sinful fingers. "So . . . good . . . so good."
"I'm going to own every part of you," he rasped. "Your eyes, your lips, every inch of your body. Your complicated, too-clever mind. Your pussy is already mine--even you'll admit that." He thrust his thumb harder, wrenching a cry from me. "Soon I'll claim your tight little virgin ass." He pistoned his hips, our skin slapping.
I couldn't think. Shutdown.
"I'm going to work my cock inside you here, and when I pump my cum in you, I'll own this ass."
I pushed back on him, answering him with insensible sounds. Too much stimulation.
"There you go. . . . I feel your pussy tightening up on me, about to release. I make you feel this way--no other man--because you belong only to me. You're going to scream my name, aren't you, Katya?" He thrust his cock and thumb at the same time.
"Oh, my God!"
"When pleasure makes you mindless, you think of only one name. Mine." His words tipped me over the edge.
I screamed, "Maxim!"
His fingers moved even faster, sending me into a frenzy, the waves of my climax overwhelming me. I clutched the bar for dear life, writhing, gyrating my hips.
"That's it, baby, that's it. Take your pleasure from me."
I did. Over and over.
My cries slowly dwindled. Once I was hanging limply, my body a quivering mass, he withdrew his finger to grip my hips.
Holding me in place, he stretched over my back and shoved hard inside my pussy. In a hoarse voice, he said, "I could fuck you forever, beautiful girl. I want you to come on me again." As he brutally surged into me, his balls slapped my clit. He railed me with all his might, going deeper with each thrust. I could only hold on for the ride.
He opened his mouth over my shoulder, almost biting me, like an animal. The touch of his teeth to my flesh--
My scream ripped through the enclosure. His cock was so swollen, my spasms could barely squeeze around it.
He snarled against me, driving harder. He released my shoulder to bellow, "Taking it from me! AHH!" He roared to the ceiling as he began to ejaculate, his fingers digging into my skin. His shaft, his legs, and his hips rammed into my body.
One savage shove. Another. And another.
Until a satisfied groan sounded from his chest.
Gradually, his shudders eased, but he remained inside me, as if reluctant to leave. He coiled an arm around my waist. "Let go, dushen'ka." With difficulty, I made my fingers release the bar, and he pulled me up against him.
His breaths tickled my damp neck. His heart thundered against my back. One of his hands lightly covered my throat. He filled his other palm with a breast.
He was content to rest like this--as if being with me were the most natural thing in the world.
As if I were his long-term lover, his girlfriend. When he nuzzled my neck and pressed kisses to my shoulder, I found myself wishing I could be.
His phone rang yet again as I dried off and donned my new silk robe.
"My brothers." He sighed, wrapping a towel around his waist. "I hope you're happy. Mobsters gossip worse than old women."
"I always heard that old women gossiped worse than mobsters." In front of the mirror, I combed out my hair, trying to act casual about what he'd done to me. He'd told me he owned me. For that space of time, he had. Maxim continued to give me fantasies--ones I hadn't even known were mine. "What will you tell your brothers about me?" I met his gaze in the reflection.
"That I've purchased a young Miami woman, enslaving her in my penthouse."
Ha. "And what will they have to say about that?"
"My older brother won't believe me. My younger will see absolutely nothing wrong with this--as long as I don't get attached." Dmitri. The one who brought him daily bouts of grief.
"While it's all fun and games to brag that you've purchased a woman, surely you're done with me by now. You did say you would shake this."
As if I hadn't spoken, Sevastyan left the bathroom, returning shortly after. "Before I forget . . ." He held up the chastity belt, modified once more.
I gasped. This time there were two plugs.
CHAPTER 22
Sevastyan was setting me up for a crash landing. And I resented it.
As I changed into my new running gear, I recalled awakening this morning--cocooned by his warmth, his arms like a shield around me.
Before him, I'd been cold and alone and wary. Guess what Catarina was returning to in four days.
It'd be all the worse because I'd tasted a different life. I'd tasted the wickedest pleasures.
Yesterday, he'd kept me in the belt for only a couple of hours, both of us too miserable to deny ourselves for much longer. I'd been on fire, and he'd been more than my match, taking me four times over the afternoon and night.
His shower play and the second addition to the belt had left my bottom sore today--but the constant reminder of what he'd done to me turned me on anew.
A brilliant, gorgeous, billionaire sex god shouldn't amuse himself by playing with a woman's feelings. Maybe I'd made an error deciding on this retreat. He would let me go on the twenty-eighth--of that I was sure. If the boundary between our bodies had fallen, somehow I had to maintain the one around my heart until then.
With that thought in mind, I snagged the marker I'd hidden in a shoe box, then marched to the master bathroom to add one more slash.
Beside my marks on the mirror, the bastard had written: It's so good you should be paying me.
I could all but hear him saying that in his seductive devil's voice, and it made me tremble. How dare he take over the mirror! That was my gig! Narrowing my eyes, I drew a seventh slash, then wrote: You're gonna miss this ass when it's gone.
I left the marker by his toothbrush--your move, Ruso--then marched to my treadmill, intending to make a racket. He slept on, arm stretched out, again as if he reached for me.
My chest went pang. My mind went pendejo!
He'd probably be pissed that I woke him so early on Christmas Eve day. His mood had continued to go downhill--hourly, it'd seemed. But I didn't care. If he was bothered, then he should sleep in the master suite--instead of getting me used to his big, warm body spooning me all night!
With the room's remote control, I opened the curtains, revealing the ocean. Today was a Miami stunner. Early morning sunlight glimmered over the ripples on the water's surface, making them look like diamonds.
Now that I'd feathered my gilded cage, the tower was a dream. Here, I had running, swimming, business journals delivered every morning, a new wardrobe, and an endless supply of decadent food.
Oh, and a dream lover. Except for the fact that he would soon return to Russia, leaving me behind.
I was all but teed up for a crash landing, might as well dive from this tower myself.
With a series of beeps, I angrily set up my workout and the heart-rate monitor. When I started a walking warm-up, I felt his gaze on me.
"Why didn't I buy you a treadmill on day one?"
I glanced over my shoulder.
He was in no way pissed. He sat up against the headboard, hands behind his head, with that I command all I survey expression. The left corner of his lips curved. I'd noticed that side tilted up when he was amused--and his tricky mind was engaged. "I want to wake up like this every morning," he said. "Ah, the views go on forever, Katya."
Facing forward, I started my run, determined to think of anything but his eyes on my body. Ignore him. I needed to get into my runner's zone, that focused headspace I craved.
After my first mile, I glanced over my shoulder again, found his gaze transfixed on me. He regarded me as he mi
ght a gift he planned to unwrap. A distinct bulge tented the cover, but he appeared to be biding his time.
I started to sweat, breaths shallowing. Halfway through, I glanced back. One of his arms had snaked under the cover, that bicep flexing rhythmically. Por Dios, he was stroking himself as he watched me.
I stutter-stepped, the heart monitor beeping like crazy.
The devil knew what that sound meant. He chuckled.
No headspace. I was hyperaware of everything around me. My skin pricked with chills, even as I was burning up inside. I felt every drop of sweat trickling over my body. My nipples strained against my bra.
Running always made me horny. Running with him watching? Made. Me. Loca.
Any time I tried to take a break and process everything that was happening, he invaded my thoughts. All I could see, hear, or feel was him--as if he'd gotten a foothold in my mind and heart and had started swinging elbows.
With difficulty, I finished my miles. As I started my cool down, I wondered what I would find when I turned again. Maybe he'd already jacked off. Maybe he'd leave me alone. When I stepped off the treadmill, I found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his swollen cock jutting. My pussy clenched for it.
But I forced myself to head toward the shower. As I passed him, he caught my hand.
"You're going to have a seat." He used his other hand to pat one of his thighs.
"I'm dripping sweat."
His lids went heavy. "I know." He reached forward and yanked down my boy shorts. Before I could step out of them, or my shoes, he'd lifted me over his lap as if I weighed nothing.
With my back to his chest, he tucked his cockhead against my entrance. Grasping me behind my knees, he held me open atop his rod. "I'll give you this slow."
My arousal slicked the way as he sensuously . . . inch by inch . . . allowed me to glide down . . .
A gust of breath left him. "Your pussy's searing me. Is my Katya still in heat?" His shaft thickened near the base. My core had to stretch to swallow his girth. "Or does running arouse you?" He yanked up my soaked bra. His hands wandered all over my damp belly, breasts, and sex.
"Running," I gasped out. With my shoes still on, my shorts around one ankle, and my bra hiked up, I arched to his touch. "But knowing you watched me, the way you watched me . . ."
He kneaded my sweat-slicked tits and pinched my nipples, ruthlessly, as he had in the shower. "You get me harder than I've ever been. For an hour, I wet the sheet with pre-cum, my balls laden for you."
