Page 51 of Possessive Vows

“You will fix it. I am not worried,” I say.

The barest hint of a smile changes her expression. She leans toward the first-aid kit. A tendril of her hair escapes her hairstyle and teases across my cheek.

After a quick swab of hydrogen peroxide, she bends down, shifting impossibly closer, and blows over my stinging flesh. Goosebumps pepper my nape and shoulders.

She shifts her gaze to mine, and with her eyes so close, the utter perfection in her nearly black irises stuns me into silence. Even though her makeup conceals the scars on her cheek, rage festers in my soul at the thought of this brilliant creature brought to such a low by pure pieces of shit like my brother. Hatred, love, adoration, and the need for revenge war within me, strengthening my will to give her anything and everything she might need.

When she shifts her attention to the first-aid supplies without backing away, her profile holds me just as enraptured as her irises. Her delicate features fill me with yearning.

She squeezes ointment onto her finger and gently smears it over my cut before peeling open a bandage and covering the micro-injury. Magma pulses at the base of my spine as she traces her fingertips around the adhesive.

She flicks a glance at my eyes before skimming her fingertips up the side of my neck and along my jawline. My heart pounds against my sternum as she explores my features, her featherlight touch and awe-filled expression adding to the intimacy of the moment. When she grows bolder and cups the side of my face and rubs her thumb over my bottom lip, I pinch my thighs and curl my toes in my loafers, silently encouraging her to continue.

She pins me in place with her bottomless brown orbs.

“You said you’re mine to do whatever I want with, right? I can use you however I need?” she questions.

“Da,” I respond without hesitation.

She brings her other hand up to frame my face. Her fingers tremble against my ear and temple.

“I want to pleasure you,” she says.

My cock jerks in my trousers, but the fear in her eyes tempers my lust. I open my mouth to respond, but she presses her fingers over my lips.

“No, Ineedto pleasure you,” she demands. “I need to take back the control they stole from me, but I don’t want to beincontrol. I’ll take it too far and then never—”

I cup the back of her hand and nuzzle into her palm as I flick the tip of my tongue over her fingers covering my mouth. She gasps and rubs her thighs together. I guide her fingers to my chin after stealing another lick and wait until her eyes pierce into mine.

“I love having your hands on me,so´lnyshka. You cannot go too far with me. I am yours, da?” I rumble.

She swallows and absently nods before inhaling and shaking her head.

“That’s not what I meant. I’ll trigger myself and then never find the courage to try again.”

I take a moment to study her expression before sneaking my tongue out to lick the tip of her index finger.

“Thisdoes not trigger you,” I confirm.

She nods.

“My wrists were bound the entire time. Wearing a cast was pure hell, but they never messed with my hands.”

She swallows to rid her throat of her emotions, but the wavering of her voice fractures my heart.

I press her fingers to my lips again and speak against them.

“Where else can I put my tongue?”

Her breath hitches and pupils dilate as a blush steals across her cheeks, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t know. They didn’t use their mouths, but I’m not ready for my pleasure. Only yours,” she murmurs.

“Did they use your mouth?” I growl.

The thought infuriates me.

“No. I bit them,” she says.

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