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He smiled, sweet and soft. “I enjoy it as well.” He slid his fingers over her jaw so tenderly, it came as a contradiction to his dominant side. “Rest now, doll, you need it.”

* * *

An hour had passed since Presley had fallen asleep, and Dmitri officially gave up on fighting against his next steps. He gathered her in his arms, and she didn’t stir from her sleep, still wrapped in the warm blanket.

He strode through the dungeon, passing by members who smiled and nodded at him, which he returned. He scanned the dungeon and spotted Cora sitting next to Kyler on the couch in the center of the dungeon.

At his approach, both turned to him, and Dmitri didn’t hesitate, knowing what he said next would cause a reaction. “I’m going to take Presley to my bedroom.”

Cora’s eyes, not surprisingly, widened, and she glanced at Kyler, who wore a similar mask of shock. Dmitri ignored the astonishment rippling across their features, and to Kyler, he said, “Will you lock the doors at midnight?”

Kyler slowly grinned. “Sure will.”

Dmitri snorted. He didn’t need the reminder his behavior wasn’t typical, but nothing since Presley walked into his office had been ordinary. He kept his face impassive, and to Cora, he said, “Presley will be fine with me tonight.”

“Oh, I know, sir.” Her wide eyes hadn’t lowered, confirming that he’d stunned her senseless.

While he could justify his actions by saying that he was simply doing right by Presley, it would be a half-truth. She had suffered a huge emotional drop after her scene, and as her Dom, he needed to stay with her; but wanting her with him tonight was not out of duty. He’d never taken a sub into his personal bedroom; instead, he would’ve taken them to a guest room. For those reasons, he kept his mouth shut and didn’t bother feeding either of them lies.

Cora looked between him, Presley in his arms, and Kyler, then she finally asked, “Should I come get her in the morning, sir?”

He glanced down at Presley, who breathed deeply in sleep, so sweet in his arms. Dmitri wanted more time with her. He needed to understand why her whisper of Master still echoed in his ears. He had to figure out why her aftercare was more to him than duty, and why he could’ve run his fingers through her hair for hours. And he needed to understand why he’d spent the last hour trying to talk himself out of taking her into his personal bedroom.

He lifted his head. “I’ll drive her home. Before you go, please bring her clothes up to my bedroom and leave them on my chaise.”

“Of course, sir,” Cora said with a gentle smile.

Kyler waggled his eyebrows and gave his typical measured look, but Dmitri ignored his friend’s amusement. He didn’t need any more of Kyler’s smart-ass expressions to prove he had some thinking to do. Shifting Presley’s weight in his arms, and without another word, he headed for the exit.

After the dungeon door closed behind him and the music grew quiet, Dmitri made his way up the basement stairs then walked down the main floor’s hallway. Doing his best to remain steady, not to wake Presley, he journeyed to the upper floor.

He reached the top of the stairs and strode down the hallway, entering his large bedroom, decorated with cherrywood furniture. He approached the king-size sleigh bed, awkwardly slid the black duvet back, and laid Presley down gently on the mattress. Then he removed the blanket from her naked body and covered her with the duvet. She looked precious against his dark sheets.

Dmitri had never expected this force of emotion, inquisitive and protective. Her experience of new pleasure excited him. His mastery of her gave him purpose. Her blushing and innocence made him smile. Her melting under his touch made him feel powerful.

He liked all of that.

He wanted to feel more of it.

Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, she moaned and snuggled into his touch. “You make me do strange things, think odd thoughts, and you force me to break my own rules.”

Another moan.

He leaned down, pressed his lips against her soft cheek, and stated a promise. “I intend to find out why.”

* * *

A pleasing scent swept through Presley’s nostrils, and against her body she felt something warm but hard. She blinked, pulled herself out of her sleepy haze, and saw above her a ceiling with large dark wooden beams.

Not my house.

Next to her was a lamp on the end table casting the room in a soft glow. She noticed she lay in a bed surrounded by gorgeous cherrywood furniture. A large red carpet rested at the foot of a fireplace on the far side of the room, with a burgundy chaise in front.

Not my bedroom.

Turning her head on the pillow to her right, she restrained her gasp. Undoubtedly, the warmness had been Dmitri, and the hardness his toned body pressed against hers. Her breath caught in her throat.

Good Lord . . .

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