Hers to Tame

by Rhenna Morgan

  His tongue slicked through her folds. Sampled and savored every inch. Every drop of the desire he’d created. Worked her sex with his mouth until all she could do was cling to the back of his head and shoulder and pray the oncoming explosion would leave her standing.

  He circled her sex with his tongue. Flicked the base with an increasing pressure while he pressed two fingers deep. His growl vibrated through her, the demand behind his words absolute. “Give me what’s mine.”

  His lips surrounded her clit and he stroked the sweet spot along her front wall.

  Release.

  Sweet, unrelenting release. Each pulse greedily grasping his thrusting fingers as her hips rolled against his mouth. Her legs quaked. Teetered on the edge of collapse.

  But he anchored her to him. Kept one steely arm coiled around her hips while he drank his fill.

  The connection was huge. Beautiful. Altering on so many levels it defied reason or comprehension.

  But it wasn’t enough. Didn’t satisfy what her body insisted she needed. What they both needed.

  She forced her eyes open, and a fresh spasm rocketed through her pussy, the alluring sight of him kneeling between her legs and his face buried between her thighs permanently marking itself in her memory.

  “Kir.” When he refused to meet her gaze, she grasped his hair at the back of his head. “Please.”

  Either the bold move or the plea in her voice captured his attention, and he lifted his head, a savage wildness burning in his eyes. A beast interrupted from his feast.

  Her body trembled. “I need you.”

  Three simple words, but they brought an almost frightening focus to his gaze. He squeezed her hips. Slowly stood and caressed her water-slick body as he rose. He cupped her breasts. Swept her pebbled nipples with his thumbs and growled his pleasure when she whimpered.

  “You want my cock?” He backed her against the shower wall, all pretense of gentleness knocked aside by the wolf she’d released. “Need your man to fuck you? To show you the truth? To bind you to him?”

  Yes.

  Yes, yes, yes and then some. Crude or not, his words rang true. Matched the primitive need raging inside her.

  She moaned in lieu of an answer and dug her nails into his shoulders. Tilted her head to the side to give his questing mouth and tongue more room to work.

  “You will be mine,” he murmured against her skin. He dipped slightly and captured one leg, hooking her knee over his arm. “You will take me.” He repeated the act with the other, leaving her spread and vulnerable, her back pressed to the hard tile and her pussy fully exposed. “You will accept me.” His teeth scraped the tender flesh where her neck and shoulders met, and his straining cock nudged her entrance. “Mine.”

  He thrust inside. Filled her completely in one delicious surge. Claimed her. Demanded and took what he wanted. What they both wanted.

  It was perfect. Powerful. The sweetest assault, and the ultimate surrender. His and hers.

  He pumped inside her. Drove them both higher and higher and forged a connection she had no prayer of breaking.

  The muscles inside her sex fluttered. Whispered of the promise just ahead. Of the climax that would rearrange everything. That would seal her fate. Her future.

  She clung to him. Let the steam, his strength and the power of the moment wash over her as she opened her eyes.

  The mirror opposite the shower was foggy at the edges, but the visual in the center was staggering. Kir blanketing her. The muscles in his shoulders and arms bunched tightly as he held her in place. Her legs spread wide. His hips pounding into her and his ass flexing with each undulation.

  His strangled voice rumbled near her ear, the desperation behind it mingling with the image. “Let go, malyshka. Accept where you belong.”

  Release rang through her. Sent her body soaring and her pussy grasping his hard shaft.

  His own shout rang out. Agony. Relief. Triumph and gratitude. So much emotion coiling around her. Every bit of it as strong and powerful as the man who held her.

  She couldn’t go back from this. Didn’t want to. And the truth of it shook her to her very core. Frightening as it was, he seemed meant for her. Always had. And as much as she’d tried to fight it—had been afraid of the connection—she couldn’t refuse it anymore.

  Her arms shook, and her body shuddered, the wake of their combined release making the warm water seem cool in comparison.

  The rhythm of his hips slowed. A languid, easy pace overtaking the wildness and guiding them both back to earth. To now and the new reality she’d accepted even if she hadn’t spoken it out loud.

  Gingerly, he eased one of her feet to the cool tile. Then the other. His hands against her skin were a constant comfort. Each skim of his lips against her cheek—her eyes and temples—a show of devotion. A demonstration of love and connection without a single word spoken.

  He rested his forehead against hers, and his voice was little more than a shaky whisper. “Taking you was not my intent.”

  So honest. Open and vulnerable. More so than she imagined he’d ever been with anyone.

  She trailed her fingers along the back of his neck. “Well, it was my gift. You can’t take it back.”

  He lifted his head and met her stare, the depth of solemnity behind his gaze staggering. “How could I? I am lost to you.”

  Her beautiful man.

  Hers.

  Completely.

  The depth of the realization must have played across her face, because he ducked his head, a shyness she’d never have expected driving his actions as he eased away and turned off the faucets.

  Without his body to keep away the chill or their connection to keep her grounded, she shivered.

  He snatched the towel hanging just outside the glass and quickly wrapped it around her, drying her with careful gentleness. Only when he was certain the cold would no longer cause her discomfort did he grab another towel and see to himself in quick, perfunctory movements. He tossed his towel aside, gathered her in his arms and padded to the bedroom.

  While sunset was still an hour or more away, the sun had slipped behind neighboring trees and cast an easy shade on the room, shadows and the promise of night matching the languor of her muscles.

  Kir settled her beneath the bedsheets, crawled in beside her and nestled her in the crook of his arm. Beneath her ear, his heart hammered a steady rhythm. A cadence that helped her own pulse find steadiness.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he caressed her back and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll see to it your reputation is cleared.” He paused a moment as though searching for the right words. “Just promise me you’ll consider what I’ve asked.”

  At first, his words made no sense. Not after what she’d felt and realized in the last hour.

  But she hadn’t spoken those feelings aloud. Hadn’t spoken her truth even if she’d accepted it clear to her soul.

  She snuggled closer to him. Reveled in the scent of his skin and the protective way he held her. Marveled at the gift she’d been given. She smiled to herself and toyed with the faint dusting of hair between his pecs. “There’s nothing to consider. Not anymore.”

  He froze beneath her, every muscle in his torso drawn tight and pensive.

  She pressed herself up enough to meet his eyes, prayed her smile conveyed her certainty as deeply as she felt it and laid herself bare. “I choose you, Kir Vasilek. You and your family and all that comes with it.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Another Monday morning. Usually, it would be the first day of Cassie’s “weekend,” but the view from this particular Monday was different. The first day of a whole new world.

  Her new reality.

  She rolled onto her side, the cool crisp sheets whispering in the silence as she grabbed Kir’s pillow and hugged it tight. While he’d showered and kissed her goodbye a good
hour ago, the light woods and citrus scent of his cologne still lingered. Coiled around her and promised that yesterday hadn’t been a dream.

  He loved her.

  He hadn’t said it in those words, but she’d felt them. And the truth was, she loved him, too. Felt as though a part of her had always known him and recognized him as the one for her. Good or bad, she was committed to giving her new life a try and doing what she loved for a living versus something logical.

  Okay, so are you gonna lie around in bed all day? Or are you gonna get your butt up and actually do something to get this new life of yours in motion?

  She smiled into Kir’s pillow and let out a low chuckle. She might have finally chosen to leave her parents’ ideals behind and strike her own path, but her mother’s drive didn’t appear to be quieting down in her head anytime soon.

  Propping herself up on one arm, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

  8:12 a.m.

  So, she hadn’t fallen into complete sloth territory yet. That was a bonus. And from how quiet the house was, Frieda hadn’t rolled out of bed yet either. That meant she’d have at least a little time to herself to enjoy some coffee and figure out her next steps.

  Teeth brushed and a comfy T-shirt and fresh cotton pants donned, she meandered downstairs and fired up the fancy one-cup brewer gadget. Outside the kitchen window was a straight view to the back of the main house and the luxurious pool behind it. Per usual, two men sat outside the back door, both of them dressed somewhat casually in jeans and button-downs. No doubt, Sam, Abel or Patrick were somewhere near her front door as well.

  Would her life always be like this? If they had children, would they have guards the same as Emerson?

  The machine hissed and gurgled the end of its routine, and the coffee’s rich nutty goodness filled the kitchen. She pulled the mug free of the machine’s base and blew across the steaming surface. God, how spoiled she’d become in such a tiny amount of time. State of the art everything. Loads of room to move around. Fashionable furniture and details. She’d gone from boho to Better Homes and Gardens in days and hadn’t even flinched.

  Which begged the question—if she and Kir were really going all in together, where would they live? For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine Kir puttering around her little 500-square-foot hut, but getting out of her lease wouldn’t be easy.

  Seriously? You’re worried about getting out of a lease when your significant other is Kir?

  Hmm. Good point.

  And he’d mentioned that he had a home of his own, so maybe they’d live there.

  You’ve agreed to marry and rely on a man whose home you’ve never seen. Do you realize how insane that sounds?

  Nope. She wasn’t listening to that crap anymore. The negativity was yesterday. This was today. Fresh and positive.

  She padded to the kitchen table, stood beside it and sipped her coffee. Boxes full of her portfolios, cameras and accessories sat neatly stacked along the far wall of the living room. Her favorite images that had been hung in her house were there as well, turned so they couldn’t be seen.

  Funny. That was how she’d always treated her work. A passion kept boxed up and facing away from the real world except for rare occurrences where she allowed herself to indulge. Maybe the first step was to fix that and get her gear and dreams out into the light.

  Two-thirds through unpacking boxes, three sharp knocks sounded on the front door. Evette smiled and waved through the windows, then opened the door and poked her head in. “Up for a visit?”

  Cassie carefully unrolled yet another lens from its packing paper. “Sure, if you don’t mind being surrounded by a little chaos.”

  With an indelicate snort, Evette shut the door and ambled inside. “I have an eight-year-old. Chaos is all I know.” She paused with her hands on her hips and surveyed all the gear and albums stacked on the coffee table, end tables and chairs. “I’d say this looks promising—so long as it’s because you’re planning on using all this stuff and aren’t planning an estate sale.”

  Cassie stood and stretched out her back. “No. Not selling anything. Just trying to figure out what I’ve got to work with and what I might need.”

  “For?”

  Rubbing her hand across her stomach, Cassie tried to still the roiling sensation in her belly.

  Just say it. Put words behind it.

  “I’m going to give the whole photography thing a go.”

  “Really?”

  Cassie nodded her head and enjoyed the rush of excitement just voicing the words created. “Looks like it. I mean, I’m officially no longer employed, right? No better time to start than now. Though, I’ve got no clue where I’m gonna start.”

  “Oh! You could do a gallery. Get one of those trendy places in Jackson Square, or something.”

  The response that no one started out with a gallery hovered on her tongue, but she shook the words loose and tried for something more positive. More open. “Maybe. I think the first thing I have to do is figure out what my specialty is, and then I’ll know where to go.” She grabbed her now empty mug and headed for the kitchen. “You want some coffee?”

  “Nope. None for me. I already had two cups with Sergei this morning before he headed out for meetings.” She followed Cassie to the kitchen and leaned one hip on the counter. “Actually, I was worried you’d be bored out of your mind and was gonna see if you wanted to come with me and Emerson for a lunch thing.”

  Waiting for the coffee machine to do its magic, Cassie snagged a granola bar from the pantry. “What kind of lunch thing?”

  “An invite from a costume designer. We’ve got a big Mardi Gras charity event planned for the church next year. This bigwig costume designer who does all the parades and events around town called me a few weeks ago and volunteered to donate her time doing the costumes for it, so I’m meeting with her today. I decided I’d take Emerson along because she apparently does superhero costumes, too. Figured I’d take the easy way out this Halloween.”

  “Mmm. Livin’ the highlife.”

  “Girl, you’re not kidding. Every year, I hold my breath waiting to see what my boy’s gonna come up with for his Halloween plans. This year, I’m like bring it on.” She cocked her head. “So, what do you think? Wanna come along?”

  Cassie took a bite of the bar, but her gaze drifted to the boxes and gear scattered through the living room. Now that she’d started, she was too pumped to walk away. Besides, the shower in Aunt Frieda’s suite upstairs had turned on ten minutes before Evette had shown up, and she was kind of eager to get her aunt’s take on where things were headed.

  She shook her head. “It sounds like fun, but I think I’ll pass today. I want to dig into my stuff a little more and see if I can’t map out some kind of plan on what to do next.”

  Another woman might have pouted or given Cassie a hard time, but Evette smiled huge and pushed away from the counter. “Sounds like a damned fine plan to me.” She pulled Cassie in for a hug.

  It was awkward at first, Cassie’s initial response to keep distance between them as she had last week firing hard. But then she let it go, shoved her resistance away and wrapped her arms around Evette in kind. “Thank you. For everything.”

  Evette’s smile was still in place when she pulled away, but it was softer and thick with understanding. “No need to thank me. We’re family. It’s what we do.” She turned and offered a backward wave. “I’ll stop by when me and Emerson get home to hear how the plan’s moving along.”

  “Deal.”

  Pausing with the door open and one foot past the threshold, Evette added, “A friendly hint. If you want peace and quiet, you’d be smart to go see Olga sometime this morning.” She dipped her head toward the granola bar pinched between Cassie’s fingers. “Maybe grab a real breakfast. I heard her grumbling something about bringing you a food care package if she didn’t see you before noon.”


  More proof she was part of a family now. A real one that operated on caring rather than an outlet for educational advancement. “Duly noted.”

  She got back to work, sorting through her equipment and making note of the things she might need depending on the direction she took things. Stills and landscapes were her comfort zone, but if she truly wanted to make a go of things, she’d need to stretch herself more. Consider live work and candid opportunities like the one Lizzy had offered her.

  Snatching her most recent portfolio, she settled onto the middle of the cozy couch, crossed her legs and rested the heavy album on her thighs.

  Frieda’s steps sounded on the stairs behind her. “One definite benefit to you being home is the smell of coffee being the first thing that greats me in the mo—”

  At the sharp cutoff of Frieda’s words, Cassie twisted to see what was wrong.

  Frieda stood two steps from the bottom of the staircase, her hands braced on the thick railing and her mouth ajar. “What’s going on?”

  Cassie scanned her things stacked this way and that. “I’m working on a plan.”

  “As in a plan for a fire sale?”

  Turning once more, Cassie frowned up at her aunt. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

  “Because you’re too stubborn to consider things that are good for you, and you never ever take out more than the absolute essentials when you go out for a shoot.” With that, she took the final two steps down the stairs.

  Cassie shifted her attention back to her album. “Well, I took ’em all out today. And not for a fire sale.” She flipped the page and considered the work she’d saved.

  “So, what kind of plan are we talking about?” Frieda said as she started her own morning brew.

  Hmm. Where should she start? With just the professional stuff, or the whole kahuna?

  Cassie worried her finger on the edge of one page. “Well, I’m out of a job, and everyone keeps telling me I should give the whole photography thing a try, so I’m trying to figure out how to do that.” She cleared her throat and added, “And it looks like Kir and I are in it for the long haul.”