Page 68 of Devious Obsession
“Don’t stop,” I say breathlessly. Tony never would have let those women have a say in what he did to them. What the men he sold them to did to them.
He slides his hand along my jaw. “Then get on your knees, Babygirl. Daddy needs to take you to bed.”
All of Chicago could be powered by the electricity coursing through my body. Every muscle tightens and my nerves come alive. But all of it is small in comparison to the surge of arousal that fills me when my knees hit the stairs and he steps next to me, urging me forward with his makeshift lead.
He goes slow, taking me up the stairs and down the hallway to a closed door. If I wasn’t wearing these leggings, there would be a trail of my arousal left on the wood flooring behind me.
When he gets to the door, he looks down at me, tugging on the belt until I sit back with my ass on my heels.
His fingers brush across my forehead, pushing away my hair. “So pretty on your knees.”
Heat flashes in his eyes, and any gentleness I thought I was going to get vanishes. He shoves open the door and jerks his chin, an indication he wants me inside.
As soon as I’m across the threshold, he scoops me from the floor and carries me to the bed. I’m tossed into the middle of it.
It’s dark. The door slams shut and a second later, a light flickers to life from the bedside table.
A perfect storm of desire and prowess circles in Artem’s eyes. He climbs on the bed with me, grabbing at my leggings and ripping them down my legs. They fly off into the shadows of the room where my inhibitions seem to be hiding.
I sit up enough to work the buttons on his shirt open. Two pop off in my urgency. He doesn’t stop me when I shove the material down his arms and press my hands to his chest. Slowly, I trace the scars, the tattoos, the markings of the violence in his life.
Scooting my ass back so I can sit up better, I press a kiss to a raised scar along his right side. He hisses when I run my tongue over it, and grabs the tail end of the belt, pulling on it until I look up at him.
Worry fills his gaze.
“You can’t think these scars don’t make you hotter than you already were.” I half laugh. But it’s evident in his stare. He does. I touch another scar unhidden by ink, raised and pink. “I don’t think anything about you could make me see anything other than who you are in here.”
I press a kiss to his chest, right over his beating heart.
He groans.
“If I had scars, would you hate them? Would I be ugly to you?”
He fists my hair and yanks my head back until he’s glaring down at me. “Nothing could make you ugly.”
I smile, even when he tightens his grip and my hair is yanked. “We don’t see with our eyes. We see with our hearts.”
His jaw tightens. His eyes flicker away for a brief second then come back to mine. He grabs my face in one large paw and kisses me. It’s raw and powerful and breath stealing.
My skin comes alive. His tongue brushes across mine, and he pushes me back to the bed, blanketing me with his body. His pants are gone, along with his underwear. I’m not sure where my panties went, but it doesn’t matter.
His skin presses against mine, and he tightens the belt around my neck.
“I should keep you this way forever. You’re compliant. Sweet.” He kisses my cheek.
“You’ve broken me.” I laugh, because it’s true and because I’m not at all upset by it. If my brothers could see how easily I follow this man’s lead, they’d never believe it.
He lessens his hold on the belt, spreads my thighs and settles between them, lining up the thick head of his cock with my entrance.
Grabbing my face again, he kisses me. I’m lost to him, to this euphoria. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I hold him to me, kissing him. I lift my hips at the same time as he drives forward, fully embedding himself inside me.
He growls against my mouth and bites at my lips. Then he’s a man consumed. I’m an addict, chasing my next high. How had I thought I could ever be satisfied with anything less than this?
He mutters my name, driving harder into me while peppering my throat with kisses. The belt is slack but there, a reminder that I wanted his leash, and he gave it.
The headboard smacks against the wall. I cry out his name as his teeth scrape across my collarbone. When did my shirt fall off? If any part of my brain still worked, I’d know. But I’ve surrendered to him, to his obsession to tame me, own me.
Another guttural growl, and he pulls free of me. As though I’m nothing more than a toy, he grabs my hips and flips me to my stomach, dragging my ass up into the air and plowing straight into me again.
