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Concern knitted his eyebrows. His shoulders lowered when she reached him and she inhaled his musky scent, sliding her hands around his strong neck. To her utter relief, he leaned into her, resting his head against her chest. She tightened her arms around him, hoping to clear away his despair.
She racked her mind trying to find the right thing to say, finally deciding on, “It’s only a club, Dmitri.”
His glass clanked against the table, and he rose so fast she had to take a step back. Eyes blazing, he growled, “What did you just say to me?”
She blinked at the wrath he exuded, an emotion she had never experienced coming from her lover. Presley’s trembling hands came up to his chest, and she could feel his heart pumping beneath her fingers. “It’s not the club that makes Club Sin, it’s the people in it. We still have all of them. I know you think this is the end of what you created in Charles’s honor, but it’s not.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’ve let my members down.”
“Maybe, but it’s not your fault,” she said, much more loudly and angrily than she intended. “I’m sick of you taking the blame.”
Dmitri’s brow arched, his scotch-laden breath brushing across her face. “Whose fault would it be then, doll?”
“The damn person who took the pictures,” she shouted.
She wasn’t even sure whom she was shouting at: Dmitri or the person behind this scandal. She despised all of it—the photos, the distance between them, the anger Dmitri was suffering, and the blame he’d taken on. “You need to stop letting it fuck with your head. I know this is terrible, but we’ll deal with it—whatever happens.”
Darkness crossed Dmitri’s expression, an expression so icy it might scare a woman. That was, if she didn’t know that Dmitri, while Dominant, was insanely respectful and loving. He closed the distance between them as fast as she could draw in a breath. His chin dipped, those stony eyes coming level with hers. “While life at the moment is uncertain, Presley, it would do you good to remember that I am your Dom. A Dom who doesn’t appreciate the tone you just took.”
Red-hot fury stirred in her veins, possibly because life was so uncertain, leaving her wondering where they would end up. “Well, I am your submissive only in the dungeon and in the bedroom.” The cool air in the room rushed across her flustered skin. “I don’t appreciate being ignored and left out of everything.” What about me? she wanted to yell at him.
Her voice became louder, splintering with the anger that all the things he’d promised were now being forgotten. “Stop pushing me away. I am your partner—your best friend. And yet you are talking to everyone else instead of sharing all this with me.” She poked his chest, glaring up into his face. “You are being a real jerk, Dmitri.”
Brows raised, his gaze turned darker, smokier. “Do. Not. Raise. Your. Voice. At. Me.”
“Do. Not. Ignore. Me,” she retorted in the same deadly calm tone.
Sure, she knew she was poking the beast, but she had more than enough. While there were a hundred excuses for the way he was acting, none mattered to her.
He had made promises to her. Promises that he would never hurt her. And he was breaking them all.
A low growl rumbled from deep in his chest, and those eyes…oh, how they burned.
One second she was standing there, almost nose to nose with him. The next he was slamming her against the wall and his lips were crushing hers.
Raw.
Primal.
Heartbreaking.
Not because his kiss wasn’t passionate, but because his touch was desperate.
And Dmitri never leaked that emotion.
The power play was there, burning like wildfire. The loss of control was nearly dripping into the air. The insecurity of the future sizzled around them; it was an emotion they both understood, yet both despised.
His breath roughly brushed across her face as his tongue thrust into her mouth, as if to clear away the words she’d spoken. A fierce kiss to steal the anger in her body and replace it with heat. He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, grinding himself against her. Not in a sensual way—no, this was pure unadulterated lust.
He nudged her head to the side, nipping at her neck, but not to mark her as his. It was almost as if he was fighting to remind himself of his love for her, searching for the man he used to be. Her eyes pinched shut against the sadness of it all, and she battled to find the Dmitri she knew. The Dmitri she loved. She prayed that him touching her now would help him find his way back to her.
So out of control and so rough in his advances, the man devouring her neck with vicious kisses was a man she had never met before. Some might think it was just hot, spontaneous sex, but to her, Dmitri seemed like a stranger.
He never lost control.
A squeak escaped her mouth and her eyes shot open, tears prickling her eyes. He had both of her wrists in one hand, and seemed to be unaware she was on the verge of crying as he hastily removed his pants. When he grabbed her thigh painfully tight, yanking it over his hip, she gasped.
Who are you?
