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He ignores me. Pinning my straining thighs with his strong hands, he continues his tender torment of my flesh, the oh-so-light kisses and nibbles that are driving me insane. I’m panting now, my nails digging into his scalp, but he proceeds with his maddening agenda and the tension grows until I’m vibrating with it, until incoherent moans and pleas escape my throat. Only then does he part my folds with his tongue, and finally, finally, he presses his mouth where I need it most—directly over my aching, throbbing clit.
I gasp, straining upward against his hold as the pleasure spikes unbearably, bordering on pain. His tongue is soft and wet, dangerously skilled. I’m excruciatingly close to the peak, and he keeps me there, balanced on the razor-sharp edge between agony and ecstasy. I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me, I can feel it. I’m burning, sweating, trembling, my heart pounding so hard it’s bound to explode, and then he slides a finger inside me, pushing it deep into my soaked channel, curving it in that way he’s done before—andIexplode.
I come so hard I see bolts of lightning behind my closed eyelids, and every nerve in my body quakes as wave after wave of ecstasy thunders over me, making my inner muscles spasm and turning my mind utterly and completely blank.
I’m still drifting in the pleasure-soaked aftermath when he moves up over me, covering me with his body once again. The orgasm was so intense I feel as if I’ve been drugged, and my lids weigh a kilo each as I pry them open to stare up into his face. His jaw is taut, his forehead dappled with tiny beads of sweat as he settles over me and gathers my wrists in one strong hand to pin them above my head. His expression is implacable, determined, and a prickle of unease penetrates the sensual fog encasing me as, with growing clarity, I recall the stinging pain when he broke my hymen with his fingers.
“Alexei…” I wet my lips, my heartbeat picking up pace at the memory of the massive pressure of his cock starting to push inside me before my bodyguards burst in. “Alexei, I…”
He kisses me. It’s a sweet, tender kiss, nothing like the way he devoured me earlier. I can taste myself on his lips, and the reminder of what he did to me and the incredible pleasure I experienced rekindles the heat inside me, easing the gathering tension in my muscles. His lips are soft on mine, the strokes of his tongue gentle and soothing, and I find myself melting against him despite my fear… even as I feel the smooth, broad tip of his cock pushing at my entrance.
It’s as big as I recall from our last close encounter, but it doesn’t hurt this time, at least not at first. It starts off as an unfamiliar stretching pressure, my body’s natural lubrication easing the way. But then… Oh, God, then the stretch increases, and it begins to sting as my flesh resists further penetration. I tense, my breath catching, and try to twist away from his kiss, but he grips my jaw with his free hand and forces me to face him.
Breathing raggedly, I meet his gaze as a blinding flash of light outside illuminates the cabin, followed by a boom of thunder. The rain is now a constant drumbeat, nearly drowning out the pounding of my pulse. With my wrists confined in his grasp above my head, my dress torn in half, and his cock buried partially inside me, I’ve never felt more vulnerable, more helpless. More at his mercy.
His chest moves with heavy breaths as well, his jaw tight with the strain of holding back, of not thrusting as every male instinct undoubtedly demands. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face as he says hoarsely, “Alinyonok… I don’t want to hurt you, but—”
“Liar,” I whisper on a shaky exhale. Of course he wants to hurt me. How could he not? For running away, for disappearing, for rejecting him throughout all these years, he can’t not want to hurt me, to punish me, at least a little.
His eyes flare, and I know I’m right. Consciously or not, he doesn’t just want to possess me—he wants to make me pay. And on some level, I want that too. Because I deserve it. Because I need it.
If I’d been less of a coward, we could’ve been here years ago, without all the suffering, all the deaths.
With our eyes locked, I see the exact moment his iron self-control shatters. A shudder ripples through his powerful body, and with a guttural growl, he surges into me, penetrating me all the way in one brutal thrust. The shock of it reverberates through my body, making my breath seize and my muscles go rigid. It’s more than a stretch, this merciless invasion, and the tears I’ve been holding back leak out of the corners of my eyes as I writhe against him, my inner tissues struggling to adjust to his immense size. The pain kills the last remnants of the heat inside me, leaving behind only a cold, bitter sense of violation—and it’s a victory of sorts.
The last thing I want is to enjoy this.
Only… he manages to stop, teeth gritted as he holds himself still, his cock lodged deep inside me. His gaze homes in on the wetness on my temples, and he swears, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them, they blaze with grim determination. “No,” he growls. “Nice try, but this isn’t how it’s going to go.”
Keeping his hold on my wrists, he shifts his weight onto that elbow and wedges his free hand between our bodies, moving it down to where we’re joined. Unerringly, he finds my clit and applies pressure, making my breath catch for a different reason. It’s no longer pain that rockets through my nerve endings, making my inner muscles squeeze around his thick cock—nor is it precisely pleasure. But as he begins to move his fingers in tiny circles, I find my hips shimmying with the same rhythm, chasing more of that distracting sensation, that pressure that doesn’t eliminate the painful fullness inside me but makes it tolerable. Makes it… oh, fuck.
I close my eyes, not wanting him to see the defeat in my gaze, but he knows anyway. He always knows. His lips ghost over my eyelashes, then over both of my temples, kissing away my tears, and his fingers pick up pace. With preternatural, demonic patience, he coaxes out my arousal, making my body soften against my will. Before long, the heat inside me returns, and so does the aching tension. I shouldn’t be able to respond again, not with my body filled so ruthlessly, so fully, yet I can’t help myself. My breath comes in panting gasps, my brain swimming with endorphins as I strain my arms in a futile effort to free my wrists, and the erotic tension grows, crowding out the pain, drowning out everything but the knowledge that I’ve lost this battle… that eventually, I’ll also lose the war.
“Look at me,” he orders hoarsely, and I have no choice but to comply.
Opening my eyes, I hold his gaze as he begins to move inside me, filling me with hard, driving thrusts, his face taut with the strain of controlling himself. Then that unnatural control of his cracks again, and he takes me with all the savagery he’s kept so carefully leashed. Each brutal stroke of his cock fills me and destroys me, taking me ever higher until my vision glows white and my breath hisses between my clenched teeth. Until every muscle in my body spasms and releases as I scream his name, while he groans and thrusts even deeper before shuddering over me in his own powerful release.
Until there’s no doubt that he’s won, and I’m now his.
Chapter29
Present Day, Location Unknown
The storm has passed, the waves lapping gently at the hull by the time Alexei carries me into the adjoining bathroom. Through the circular window by the tub, I catch a glimpse of the clear night sky speckled with stars before he flicks on the light switch with his elbow, flooding the room with brighter light.
Somebody must’ve drawn a bath for us earlier because the clawfoot tub is full. By now, however, that water must be cold. Alexei must reach the same conclusion because he carries me straight into the shower stall, where he carefully sets me on my feet and turns on the water.
I shiver at the initial coolness of the spray and back away, only to give a start when the cold tiles press against my shoulder blades. I lean back against the wall anyway, my legs too weak to support my weight. Biting my lip, I close my eyes and try to steady my breath, ignoring the throbbing soreness deep inside me.
Three times. That’s how many times he’s taken me today, wringing pleasure from my sore, exhausted body and giving me only a few minutes of respite in between. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. If he’s told me the truth about not fucking other women since our betrothal, he has a decade of sexual deprivation to make up for.
I still don’t know if I believe it. Or maybe I don’t want to believe it. Because the implications of that are as terrifying as the knowledge that he’s been behind this nightmare of a betrothal all along. That he’s been the puppet master, not a fellow puppet as I’d imagined.
“Here, it’s warm now.” His touch pulls me out of my thoughts, and I open my eyes as he maneuvers me under the spray, which is now at the perfect temperature.
I blink, wiping the water off my face with both hands, and he gives a low, delighted laugh, his dark eyes shining as he looks at me. And why not? I’m his favorite possession at the moment, the toy he’s been after for so many years.
“So what’s your plan?” I ask, because I have to. I do my best to keep my eyes on his face instead of his naked body, magnificent though it might be. I don’t want him thinking I’m up for round four. “Are you going to keep me on this boat forever? Fuck me until I literally can’t walk?”
