Page 101 of Deadly Knight
His smile expands, and it’s so genuine, it nearly breaks me all over again. “It’s no less than the pain you’ve caused me. Consider this punishment for taking yourself away from me. Now, let’s work towards number four.”
Three orgasms later,I’m broken.
Completely.
Utterly.
Obliterated.
It wasn’t meantto go this far, but she never said anything butmore,please, and my name, all spoken breathily, pleadingly.
I’m a fucking monster, but I’mhermonster. I meant to go slow and gentle, considering how many years it’s been for us, combined with the fact that this Katya isn’t the girl I once dated; she’s survived shit that would change her reactions and preferences, which is fine.
The more I kissed, touched…fucked, the more I realized my girl’s still in there. No matter what she claims, she’s made for me and I for her, and the five men who wronged us didn’t change that.
So, of course I’m dragging this out and milking every last second she’ll allow me to have. Taking every orgasm her beautiful body grants me. It’s her punishment, after all. Punishing all the years we’ve been apart, uncaring that the blame rests with neither of us.
“I can’t, Dimitri.”
“You can.” My thumb circles her swollen clit, keeping my fingers out of her before I truly do harm her. It’s bad enough herbody’s shaking, but she’s so close to her seventh orgasm. “One more, for me. You can do it,krasivyy. I know you can.”
I tease her entrance with my index finger, enjoying how drenched she is. After this, she’ll be so drained, all thoughts of escaping will fade.
She comes for the seventh time, biting down on her lip, which is already swollen and red from my mouth.Allof her is marked by me. That’s what the past day’s been all about, after all—proving where she belongs. The fact she’s allowed me to touch her for this long simply proves it further.
Her limbs slump to the floor, her head rolling until finding me. “I can’t do ten.”
“I know. I was too greedy as is.”
Besides, I’d much rather spend the final hours I have of our deal with her in my bed. I drag her onto my lap, hand stroking through her damp hair, enjoying the few minutes of peace. Soon, this will end. I feel it in my gut.
“I don’t even remember what we were arguing about,” she mumbles sleepily.
You leaving. “That’s the point.”
I reach for my shirt, pulling it over her head and guiding her arms through the sleeves before slipping on my jeans. Then I gather her up, along with the rest of her clothes, and carry her from the room, the house, and into my car.
I was too reckless with her tonight; it was a lot on her body. This wasn’t exactly the first time I imagined, but I wouldn’t change what we shared.
Katya dozes during the ride back to the mansion, and I observe her for more than what’s safe for a midnight drive. We’re mere hours from the time I’ve requested out of her, with no fucking idea what morning will bring.
I can’t let her go.
I did ten years ago. I won’t survive again. Shemustsee the point of this entire day. I’ve proved she’s safe and that she has a home—the very same house—to return to. And me. That we’re as good together now as we were back then. Better, if anything, because I know what it’s like to be starved of her.
Once arriving at the Volkov mansion, I carry her inside and straight to my room. She wakes long enough to use the bathroom, then climbs into bed beside me.
This should thrill me, but the moment I join her, she subtly inches away. I might not have felt it if I weren’t so damned attuned to her. She’s rebuilding the distance I’ve destroyed throughout the day—or so I thought.
I don’t know how to fix this. How to stop her from pulling away.
She pretends to sleep, but I know she’s not. Her breathing isn’t lax enough, her body too stiff. Like the selfish monster she’s made me become, I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her against me, breathing in her scent, which now mingles with mine. Burying my face into her hair, every day from the longest decade of my life evaporates. This is all that matters.
It takes forever—and, honestly, I’m surprised I manage it—but sleep drags me under. With my father imprisoned and her four rapists long dead, Katya is safe. Safe and in my arms, and now I can rest.
I feellike my life’s become that movie where the couple pointlessly splits up. The one where I always scream at the screen for them to stop being morons. It’s happening to me…yet I can’t stop it.
I’m terrified of all the what-ifs. My heart needs to be protected this round.
