Page 61 of Prince of Control
My heart flip-flops in my chest. Something lets go. Everything spills open.
I realize Benjamin Baranov is nothing like what I expected. He’s dangerous, certainly. Definitely controlling. But he’s generous. Not just with me, but with his bratva cell. He’s giving of his attention. His strategy. Even his violence. It’s all for a purpose that seems to revolve around the people he considers his own.
For the first time, I’m actually honored to be included in that group. To belong to Baron. To be someone he would kill for.
I now crave hearing him call me his wife in that possessive, proud way of his.
I replay the stunned look he wore when I first came downstairs tonight. The way he claimed me during the party, announcing to everyone that I was his wife. Beaming at me when I played the game of churning their rumor mill with him.
I feel another orgasm build, and I whimper, resisting it.
Baron flips me to my back without separating our hips and plows into me, his need for control clearly taking over.
I’m glad for the change because I can’t even see straight. The room spins. My breath is coming in short, quick pants. Baron pounds into me, bracing one hand against the wall above my head and lifting one of my legs to get even deeper.
“Reach back and push that plug, malyshka,” he orders.
I obey because I’ve come to trust that his directions result in crazy pleasure for me. My eyes roll back in my head at the dual sensations in my ass and pussy.
“Baron…Ben.”
His brown eyes crinkle, and his lips curve into a wicked smile when I say his name. “That’s it, Lara. Who owns this gorgeous body?”
I shake my head, wanting to deny it. He doesn’t own me. At least, I don’t want him to.
He chuckles, like he’s conceding defeat. “Who makes you scream when you come, printsessa?”
“You do,” I gasp, already out of my mind with pleasure. Ready to go off again like a rocket ship.
“I own this body.” He slams into me, harder and faster.
I cry out, my pleasure tinged with fear at how rough he’s being. How forceful. How hard he’s fucking me.
“I make you come. Look at me, Lara.”
I didn’t realize my eyes were closed, but I pry them open now. I can barely focus, but Baron holds my gaze. “Come for me now.” He rubs my clit with the pad of his thumb.
I let out a cry, but can’t quite crest the peak. “You come,” I pant, breathless.
Baron groans, and I watch in fascination as his face contorts. Control slips away. A muscle jumps in his cheek as he pumps with brutal force, his rhythm turning erratic. With a shout, he shoves in deep and comes.
The moment he does, I wrap my legs around his back and hook my ankles to hold him inside me. I come with him, my internal muscles squeezing and pulsing around his cock, milking it for the last of his essence.
Baron releases a hoarse laugh and nuzzles into my neck. “Damn. That was so hot. You make me crazy, Lara.”
The pleasure of his appreciation mingles with the high from my multiple orgasms.
I hate to admit it, but I might be falling for my husband.
I’m addicted to being touched by him. Fascinated by watching him.
A knock sounds at the door, and Baron stiffens and pulls out. “Yeah?” He hurls himself off the bed and picks up the side of the bedspread to sweep it in a swift arc over my naked body.
Leo’s voice sounds from the other side. “Baron, the cops are here. They don’t have a warrant, but they’re asking for you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Baron
