Page 12 of Dancing With Delusion

A low, angry chuckle leaves him. “You fuck yourself in front of my men and think you deserve a reward, my krasota?”

I shake my head, tears of frustration threatening to fall. “I’m sorry . . . Dmitry.” He swipes his tongue along my folds, pushing a finger into my pussy. I try to push against his tongue, needing friction, but he pulls away, and I automatically feel the loss.

He smirks down at me, obviously taking pleasure in my frustration. “You will never do that again, Victoria.” I shake my head. “Words,” he barks, and I jump at the tone of his voice.

“No, Sir,” I whisper. He wipes away a small tear I hadn’t even realised had escaped.

“No more games, Victoria. I am tired of them.”

He flips me over with little effort, spanking my arse. The sting of his touch almost scratches that itch. He lines himself at my entrance, ramming into me without warning. “And for the record, I am not a coward.” The force pushes me forward up the bed. He’s chasing his own climax with little regard for my release. Fucking me like an animal.

Minutes later, I feel him stiffen as he grunts and releases into me. He stills, his heavy pants blowing across my back, then he pulls from me and taps my backside before he stands.

I almost feel dirty as I crawl away from him and curl into a ball. He covers me with a blanket from the foot of the bed and leans down, kissing me on the head. “Rest, Victoria.” And just like that, he leaves the room.

I feel used. This Dmitry is different from the one I’m used to, and I hate it. Even his form of punishment has changed. There was no pain and certainly no pleasure—at least, not for me. All I’ve been craving is the pain to take away the ache that’s been in my chest since ending Marcus. I know deep down that I deserve it, that my irrational decisions have consequences. I never think about the complications for anyone else. Marshall’s taken a beating for my stupid behaviour.

My heart stutters when I picture the state he was in. I don’t even know if he’s dead. I got too distracted and caught up in my own needs, yet again.

I bring the soft blanket up to my shoulder, wrapping it around myself as if it’s a shield protecting me from the rest of the world, and I close my eyes.

I startle at the sound of a bloodcurdling scream. Sitting up in bed, I realise the screaming is coming from me.

I look down at my blood-soaked hands. They’re shaking so badly, and there’s an ache in my heart as I cry uncontrollably. Sweat beads all over my body as I run to the bathroom, turning on the tap and scrubbing my hands with the nail brush, trying desperately to wash away the red stickiness.

My vision blurs from the tears, and my breathing is laboured because my chest is tight with a ball of anxiety.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror above the sink, seeing a spray of blood across my face. It’s then I see him. Marcus. His haunted face stares at me from behind, and I inhale sharply. He’s also covered in blood. It soaks his hair, and as an evil smile curls his lips, even his teeth are smeared.

I smash my fist into the mirror and watch as the glass shatters into the sink, taunting me. I turn around, screaming and hitting out at him. “Leave me the fuck alone, Marcus!” He grabs my wrists and panic takes over.

“Victoria.” I freeze at the words. “Tori, it’s me.” I focus on the figure in front of me. The fog clears, and I see a concerned Dmitry staring back at me.

I exhale loudly, my entire body shaking violently as I realise it was just a dream. Dmitry pulls me close, and I cry into his chest. How the hell did I get into the bathroom? I’m losing it.

He lifts my exhausted body into his arms, walking me over to the bed, then he pulls off my ripped blouse and lays me back. I hang on to his body like my life depends on it. “Don’t leave, please, Dmitry,” I cry.

“Never, Victoria.” He prises my arms from around his neck.

Removing his clothes and sliding into bed behind me, he pulls my body close to his, covering us with the blanket I was cocooned in earlier.

He strokes my hair, and I relax into his touch.

“I’m sorry,” I whimper. “I can’t seem to get anything right.”

“You have to understand, my krasota, that my world isn’t like the world you’re used to. You have to consider your every move carefully.” He puts his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer. “Everything I do is for a reason. I told you I’m not a good man, Victoria.”

“After today, I don’t only have Marcus’s blood on my hands, I have Marshall’s too.” I rub my hands over my tired face. “I only did it to get your attention.”

“Well, you certainly got that, my krasota.” He lets out a small laugh. “And Marshall isn’t dead.” I sigh in relief, and he stiffens behind me. “Careful, Victoria. He may well be if you continue to show so much concern.”

“It’s not like that. I wanted you to leave with me, and I thought you would come running.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “Marshall has become like a brother to me, and now, I’ve hurt him with my brazen decisions.”

I sniffle at the realisation I’m completely unravelling. Dmitry turns me to face him. “You’ve experienced a lot recently,” he kisses my head tenderly, “but, my krasota, this destructive behaviour has to stop.”

I nod in agreement as another stray tear slides down my cheek, soaking into the pillow.

Dmitry

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