Page 30 of Taken By Him

“No bra?” he asks, and I don’t need to see him to know he’s smiling. That same arrogant grin.

My nipples harden beneath his stare before he even touches me. But when he does, when his fingers gently pinch my nipple, it’s like skyrockets are lit, firing between nerve endings.

“You’re close, Kasia,” he whispers in my ear. I nod, unsure of what I will say if I try to speak. I won’t beg him to let me finish. I won’t plead for my release.

“Such a good girl,” he kisses the side of my neck, trailing a line of heat with his tongue. “Tell me, Kasia. Are you a virgin?” His finger slips just into my pussy. It’s not enough, I want all of it.

“Dominik.” One word. My cheeks flame with the truth. A twenty-two-year-old who’s never known the real touch of a man, it’s pathetic.

“Tell me, Kasia. Do I have to find men to kill or will I be the first man to have you, the only man to have you,” he says, biting down on my shoulder. The pain of his bite burns at first, then mingles with the pleasure his fingers are giving me.

He pushes his finger inside further, curling it at the knuckle.

“Are you a virgin?” he asks again, his finger stilling inside me, his pinch increasing on my nipple.

I can’t help but arch my body until my hips thrust toward his hand.

“Yes,” I say. The heat from my cheeks spreads throughout my entire body.

With one quick thrust, he plows his finger into me, then adds another. I wrap my hand around his forearm, squeezing him. I don’t want him to stop. No, if he stops, I’ll find his gun and kill him myself.

“You’re so tight, so fucking wet,” he mutters in my ear, biting my shoulder again and pinching my nipple.

I’m at the end, there’s nowhere to go but over and once I breach that cliff, I’m not going to be able to stop myself. I roll my head to the side, giving him better access to my throat. Wanting, no, needing his bite, his marking as the heel of his hand hits my clit.

“Come for me, Kasia. Show me you’re my good girl, you’re my sweet girl. Show me,” he says and plows his fingers harder into me, curling them and twisting as he fucks me with them. My nipple burns when he releases it, only to flick it and ignite another sensory overload.

All the pain, the pleasure, it’s too much. I can’t stop it. I can’t contain it.

He licks my neck, then bites down hard, catapulting me beyond reason. The heel of his hand presses harder against my clit, rubbing in circles. The sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of my sloppy wet pussy carry me away. Every muscle in my body tenses and within a blink of an eye, I’m screaming. My feet plant onto the soft ground below and I’m scrambling to chase after every wave, every pulse of the electric release he’s brought down on me.

“No, no,” he soothes me. “Feel it, feel all over it,” he commands, and like the good girl he’s making me be, I sink into his lap, letting every harsh wave crash over me and steal away my breath.

By the time the pleasure fades into a lavender haze, I’m gasping for air. My heart has tried to escape my chest, but failed, leaving behind an ache as my pulse slows. His fingers never left my passage, his hand never moved from my breast. There’s a light sting on my neck where his teeth sank in. I wonder if there’s any blood.

I’m not sure I care.

He slowly pulls his hand from between my legs, leaving me empty and wanting. After he licks his fingers clean, which I’m oddly aware of because of his moan, he rights the neckline of my dress and pulls my legs across his. I’m cradled in his lap now, and I don’t even fight the urge to weave my arms around his neck and hold onto him.

He smells good. A masculine scent of spice and leather.

“This is how I want things between us, Kasia. Giving you pleasure, making you mine. This is how it should be between husband and wife.”

“But we don’t even like each other,” I say into his shirt.

His chest rumbles with his soft laugh.

“We don’t hate each other. And that’s a start.” He pulls me tighter against him.

“You want something.” I’m sleepy, but I can tell there’s a command coming. Another of his rules.

He kisses the top of my head. “I don’t want you talking with your father. I want you to stay away from him.” He’s already told me this.

“You don’t trust him,” I say on a yawn. I don’t trust my father either. A man who signs away both of his daughters with as much ease as he did, isn’t a man with much integrity.

But he is my father.

“No.” He surprises me by being honest. “I don’t. And until I know what he’s up to, I want you away from him.”

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