Page 49 of Taken By Him

He kisses my forehead, then grabs my hand again. “Upstairs, wife.” He emphasizes the last word.

I see a flicker of a shadow in the kitchen. Margaret’s still here, and I don’t want to put her in a position where she sees or hears something uncomfortable, so I follow him upstairs without any further teasing.

Once we’re in his bedroom, though, I untangle my hand from his and step away, flicking my hair over my shoulder.

“I’m pretty tired, Dominik.” I fake a yawn. “Maybe I’ll just head to bed.”

His eyes nail my feet to the floor. With purposeful, slow steps he stalks toward me. A lion to his prey. My heart beats out a loud melody against my chest and my mouth dries.

When he reaches me, he grabs the small handbag from my hand and tosses it to the dresser. With both hands he grabs my shoulders and spins me around. I can see his face in the mirror, his lips are pressed into a thin line, his eyes set firmly on me.

He picks up my hair and pushes it over my shoulders, exposing my back to him. The zipper of my dress lowers, while his gaze rises to meet mine in the mirror. The little straps of the dress sag down my shoulders. With a featherlike touch, he skims his fingers over my shoulders, pushing the straps down completely. The dress, a simple, black, deep-cut dress, falls to my feet.

I stand in front of him in only my black strapless bra and panties. He licks his lips.

With a flick of his fingers on my bra, the clips are unfastened, and it falls away from my body. I move to catch it, to hold it to me, but he grabs my arms, pinning them to my side.

“Are you trying to deny me, Kasia?” His voice is heavy, raw.

I catch his gaze in the mirror again and a shiver runs along my spine. His fierce expression should spread terror through me, instead of making my panties so damn wet for him.

“If I am?” I can’t help but tease him again. This is a game we’re playing, and no matter who loses, we’ll both win.

His lips crack into a wide grin and he steps closer to me, until his hard cock is pressed against my ass cheeks. “What do you think will happen?” he asks, wrapping an arm around me and cupping my breast. “Do you think you’re allowed to deny me?” Two fingers close around my nipple and pinch, bringing with it a glorious burn.

I shake my head.

“No?” He twists my nipple and pulls forward. The intensity makes me gasp, but I don’t try to pull away.

“No,” I finally manage to say.

He lets go and kisses the side of my cheek. “Good girl. Let’s try another question.” His hand roams to my other breast. “What happens when you’re a bad girl, Kasia?”

His fingers close tight, he pulls right away giving me no chance to grow accustomed to the sensation. I lean forward a bit, trying to lessen the pressure, but he’s pressed to me so hard, I have nowhere to go.

“What happens to bad girls, Kasia?” he asks again, scraping his teeth along my shoulder.

“You punish them,” I say while sucking in a breath.

“How do I punish you?” He gets more specific, lessening his grip.

I drag my gaze back to the mirror and find him staring at me. That same dangerous look in his eyes.

“You deny me pleasure.” I answer him firmly. I won’t lose this game. If he’s looking for a reason to punish me, he won’t find one. I’ll take what he dishes out, but I will not be denied.

“No, Kasia. I deny you release. I’ll give you all the pleasure you want.” He spreads his fingers out on my stomach, pushing me against him more. “But you were a good girl tonight, Kasia.” He moves from my stomach, reaching into the pocket of his pants.

I tense at the sight of a pocketknife in his hands.

“Don’t worry,” he kisses my cheek. “You’re safe here, remember. You’re safe with me.” He kisses me again, a tender gesture as he slides the blade between my hip and the thin strap of my panties. With one arm now draped over my chest, pinning me to him, he swipes the knife, easily cutting the strap then moving to my other hip. Again, he cuts the fabric then tosses the knife onto the dresser.

“Such a pretty girl,” he whispers into my ear, pulling the remnants of my panties from between my legs and dropping them to the ground.

The darkness in him reaches his eyes, I can sense it with his touch. He needs this, he needs to have this control, to have me bend to his will. What surprises me is how much I crave it too. I want to calm his storm, and I want to lose myself in it at the same time.

I reach over my shoulder and cup his cheek. At first, he stiffens, but then softens, leaning into my hand.

“I’m safe here.” I stare at him in the mirror. The heat I see, the hunger screaming at me in his reflection kicks my heart into a gallop. I swallow back a little gasp when he cups my breast again.

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