Page 36 of Bound in Possession

"Ten," he murmurs, his deep voice thick and entirely satisfied. "Perfect count, princess."

Before I can even pull in a steady breath, he drops to his knees behind me. The sudden, scorching heat of his mouth replaces his hands. I let out a sharp gasp as his tongue slides against my skin, licking and kissing the reddened flesh he just marked.

The stark contrast of the cool room, the burning sting, and the wet, possessive heat of his mouth makes my knees buckle. I sag against the edge of the desk, completely helpless, my fingers barely clinging to the mahogany to keep from sliding to the floor.

While his mouth worships the aching curves of my ass, Maksim reaches up. His large hands slide along my back to the front of my gown, ruthlessly yanking down the bodice of my dress until my breasts are completely freed into the cool air of the study.

He doesn't touch them gently. His fingers wrap around my swollen nipples, pinching them firmly and rolling the tight peaks between his fingers in a cruel, demanding rhythm.

A choked cry tears from my throat. The sensory overload is staggering—the throbbing sting behind me, the sharp pinch at my chest, and the pooling, heavy slickness gathering between my thighs. I am completely consumed by him, so incredibly turned on that every shred of my pride has burned away into the dark room.

"Maksim," I whimper, my hips shifting instinctively against the empty air, begging for the one thing that will stop the torment. "Please... please, Maksim."

A low, dark chuckle rumbles from his chest, vibrating against my skin. He loves this. He loves seeing me entirely undone, brought to her knees by his hands alone. "Please what, Camilla? Speak nicely for me."

"Release," I sob, my head shaking blindly. "Please... pleasure me. I can't take it."

He laughs again, a rough, gravelly sound filled with absolute triumph, but he doesn't make me wait any longer. His hands grip my hips, turning me as he leans forward, his hot breath fanning across my soaking wet core.

Then, his tongue slips inside me.

I scream into the empty office, my hands flying off the desk to grip the edge of his broad shoulders as he dives deep. His tongue strokes against me with an unyielding, rhythmic force, his lips sealing around my clitoris to suck and lick with a brutal, intoxicating hunger.

I cry out hard, the pleasure so intense it borders on pain, my hips taking over as I helplessly ride his face, desperate to push myself closer to the devastating warmth of his mouth.

Above us, his hands never stop. He keeps a vicious grip on my breasts, continuing to pinch and roll my nipples, matching the relentless rhythm of his tongue.

The immense duality of the pain and pleasure tears through my system, a beautiful, violent storm that stretches my senses until the entire room blurs into nothing but his touch, his scent, and the crushing weight of his absolute possession.

The world shatters. The overwhelming friction of his tongue against my slick center, combined with the sharp, relentless pinching at my breasts, pushes me right over the edge of the precipice.

A violent, blinding orgasm rips through my entire body. I scream his name into the quiet of the office, my fingers digging desperately into the fabric of his shirt as my walls contract around his mouth in deep, helpless spasms. The pleasure is so intense it knocks the breath straight from my lungs, my legs trembling so violently that if he weren't holding my hips, I would have collapsed onto the rug.

As the waves begin to slow, the desperate, aching heat in my core doesn't fade. If anything, the taste of completion only makes me hungrier. I shift my hips instinctively, trying to press myself back against his mouth, wordlessly begging for him to keep going, to take me all the way to the end.

But to my utter shock, Maksim pulls away.

I let out a breathless, frustrated whine as the sudden rush of cool air hits my damp skin. He rises smoothly from his knees, his towering frame casting a massive shadow over me as I lean heavily against the desk, completely unraveled, my dress still bunched around my waist. His eyes are dark with a roaring hunger, his breathing heavy, but his expression is entirely controlled.

"No more, princess," he murmurs, his voice a deep, gravelly vibration.

"Maksim..." I breathe out, looking up at him through a haze of tears and blown-out arousal, my voice entirely small. "Please."

He reaches down, his large fingers gently catching my chin to tilt my face up. "I told you, this was a punishment," he says, a dark, devastating smile playing on his lips. "I am leaving you wanting tonight. After we stand at the altar, after you take my name in front of the entire city... that is when I am going to properly fuck you. That is when I’ll claim you completely."

He leans down, pressing a hard, deep, possessive kiss to my lips that tastes of my own slickness and his clean cologne. It’s a promise wrapped in absolute dominance, a declaration of what is to come very soon.

When he moves back, he gently helps me pull the bodice of my gown back up, smoothing the fabric over my breasts before sliding my panties back up my legs. The tenderness of the gesture, following the sheer brutality of the pleasure he just inflicted, leaves me entirely dizzy.

My cheeks burn with a fierce, hot flush. I am so utterly exposed, so thoroughly conquered in his space, that I almost cannot look him in the eye as I try to reassemble the pieces of my shattered dignity.

By the morning of the wedding, I am in an absolutely foul mood.

The bright sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my dressing room, but it does nothing to clear the dark, brooding cloud over my head. I sit rigidly in front of the vanity mirror, staring at my reflection. I am furious.

The fact that I had actually begged Maksim on his office desk, entirely undone, only for him to smugly deny me, makes my blood boil every time I think about it. But what irritates me even more is the embarrassing, treacherous truth I am trying desperately to suppress: I am looking forward to tonight. He said he would claim me. He said he would take me properly after we took our vows. And instead of being terrified, my body hums with anticipation.

How could I be so attracted to him? I scold myself, gripping the edge of the vanity table. He is an arrogant, overbearing Bratva boss who locked me up and spanked me like a disobedient child. Yet, the mere memory of his rough hands and his deep voice makes a familiar, wicked heat coil in my stomach.