"No," he rasps, firmly pulling my hand away. "While that is the most tempting offer I’ve ever had, not tonight. Tonight, I want to devour you over and over. And I need to stay in control to do that. If you touch me like that, I won't last a minute."
He steps back, walks to the dresser, and pulls a long, black silk tie from the drawer. Returning to the bed, his dark eyes fix on mine.
"Hands behind your head," he commands.
I look at the tie, my stubbornness flaring. “Are you really going to tie me up?"
"I asked if you trusted me," he says, a wicked grin touching the corner of his mouth. "Now let me have my way."
I swallow hard, my pulse thumping, but I lift my hands to the carved wooden slats of the headboard. Climbing back over me, his knees pin my thighs. He loops the black silk around my wrists, securing them to the wood. It locks my arms above my head, leaving me completely exposed—chest arched, thighs parted.
"You're a monster," I whisper, my voice shaking with heat.
"I know," he murmurs.
Positioning himself between my thighs, he grabs my hips, his fingers leaving marks that will turn to bruises. He looks into my eyes, then enters me in one slow, agonizingly deep thrust.
I let out a sharp gasp, my bound hands straining against the tie as he fills me. He is thick, stretching my walls, but the slickness from my climax makes the entry smooth. He stays there for a moment, buried to the hilt, his forehead resting against mine as we pant.
"You're so tight," he growls, his hips shifting in a slow, punishing grind. "So perfect."
He picks up the pace, his thrusts turning into a hard, rhythmic pounding that rattles the headboard. I pull against the silk, twisting my wrists as I arch to meet every stroke. The eye contact is relentless. He watches every twitch of my face, every gasp, his blue eyes dark with a raw intensity that goes deeper than any physical connection before.
"Mikhail... yes... right there," I sob, thrashing on the pillow.
"Mine," he growls, driving harder, his chest slick with sweat. "Say it, Irina."
"Yours," I cry out, my voice cracking. "I'm yours."
Before I can reach the edge, he pulls out with a wet sound that makes me whimper. He unties the silk from the headboard, but leaves my wrists bound. Grabbing my waist, he flips me onto my stomach, my hands tucked under my chest.
He yanks my hips up onto my knees, my head pressed into the pillows. Standing behind me, his hands grip my lower back as his heavy heat presses against my rear.
He slides back inside me.
The change in angle is electric. He hits me deeper now, his cock rubbing against my G-spot with every brutal thrust. I screammuffled into the pillow, bucking against him. He grips my hips, driving into me with a relentless, primal force.
"You're so loud, Princess," he pants, his hand coming down to give my thigh a sharp, stinging slap. The smack makes me gasp, my back arching as the sting of pain turns into a fresh wave of heat. "I told Silas you weren't a doll. You're a tiger, aren't you?"
"Mikhail... harder... please," I beg, my face buried in the sheets, my bound hands straining.
He doesn't hold back, thrusting with a hard, snapping rhythm. I can feel his sweat dripping onto my back, his breath hot against my neck as his teeth graze my shoulder, marking me over and over as I climb toward another peak.
Just as I’m about to go over, he pulls out again. I let out a sharp, frustrated cry, but he doesn't let me rest. Sitting back on his heels, his cock hard and leaking, he yanks me onto his lap to face him.
My bound hands drape over his neck, my thighs wrapping around his waist. I sit on him, his cock sliding all the way back inside as I settle. The fullness is dizzying, my wetness keeping us locked together.
"You set the pace, Irina," he rasps, his hands cupping my breasts, thumbs flicking my nipples. "Show me how much you want it."
Looking at him, my eyes dark with desperate desire, I begin to move, sliding up and down his length. The control is intoxicating, but Mikhail isn't passive; he thrusts upward with every downward stroke, driving me to a frenzy.
"Mikhail... I can't... I can't hold it," I sob, my head falling onto his shoulder, my bound hands tightening around his neck.
"Don't hold it," he growls, his hands moving to my waist to take over the movement, slamming my hips down with a breathless, intense speed and puts his hand on my clit. "Come with me, Irina. Now."
The tension snaps for both of us. My climax hits like a freight train, my body locking around him as I scream his name. Mikhail lets out a guttural roar, tensing as he thrusts upward one last, deep time, spilling his heat inside me in a powerful rush.
We stay wrapped around each other, our breathing the only sound in the room. My head rests on his shoulder, my heart hammering against his chest. Mikhail’s arms are locked tight around my waist, as if he’s still afraid I’ll disappear.
