Mine (Club Sin 7)

His cock pressed against her entrance, and her ey

es widened in surprise as he thrust inside her, not caring or acknowledging the fact that she wasn’t entirely prepared for him. His skin slid against her dry inner walls, and he bit her lip, as if telling her the state she was in was unacceptable. But emotions were raging, and she was tumbling into confusion. She wanted to help him, free him from his demons, and ground him again.

He loved her. He respected her. He protected her.

But this wasn’t her Dmitri.

Her mind battled to make sense out of what was happening now. He had never touched her without care or without thought of her emotional state. It all left her so shocked she couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, and couldn’t even breathe. She thought the moment he touched her, he’d return to her. But that wasn’t what happened.

When he grasped her breast firmly, she parted her lips, prepared to tell him to stop. Never before had Dmitri made her feel used or unappreciated, but that sensation engulfed her now. Tears ran down her face. Her body betrayed her and moistened for him. He growled a feral sound, thrusting easier, moving fast, and pumping into her.

Yet her mind recoiled. Part of her knew he needed to shed his demons and that this was a way to do it. The other part of her realized if she allowed this to happen, they could never go back. Things would be forever changed between them.

He wasn’t thinking of her; he was thinking only of himself and his needs. The moment she realized he wasn’t coming back to her, instead remaining so far away, it sickened her, sending a cold bite washing through her. He thrust only for his orgasm and only to shed the tension inside of him. Her breath caught on a sob, and her mind snapped back.

This was wrong.

“Dmitri,” she managed, attempting to yank her wrists away. This would break their special bond. It wouldn’t save him from his hell. It would send him into a different type of hell, where he’d hate himself.

His hold tightened. She pulled harder, demanding to break free, nearly hoping it would snap him out of this dark state. She wanted her Dmitri. The man she loved, not this man crumbling to pieces.

He kissed her mouth, stealing her objections. Rough and filled with tension, his affections lacked the passion Dmitri usually held for her. Tears soaked her face as she stilled beneath him, feeling lost in his complete breakdown. His thrusts were frantic and her world unraveled.

Stop.

If she didn’t stop this now, they would never recover. He’d never forgive himself for losing control with her. And she would never trust him again. He might be breaking down, but Presley wasn’t.

As he thrust savagely against her, her heart crashed and burned. What happened next would be something she could never take back. He’d also given her no other choice. She began to say Club Sin’s safe word: “Drag—”

His primal growl cut her off as he crushed his mouth against hers. So drawn into himself, he was unaware of anything around him. Digging her fingernails into his hands, she screamed, “Dragon.” Then she bit his lip hard. He cursed, and the second he released her wrists she pushed him away.

The shove sent him two steps back.

Breathless, his chest rose and fell. Her arousal glistened against his hard cock, with veins protruding the sides. Tears continued down her cheeks, and Dmitri blinked once…then again…before his eyes widened. Shock, disappointment, and a dark emotion were reflected in their depths.

“Jesus Christ,” he spat out. His face haunted, he took a step toward her, and then stopped himself. His empty expression met hers, and it was in that second, she became aware of how far away Dmitri was from her. How far away he was from himself.

His breakdown ran deeper than the loss of his club. This was a man who was broken, and even now, even after what had just happened, her heart only ached for him. Because tonight Dmitri wasn’t with her; a darker part of him was. Her Dmitri, the other part of him, was sickened by what had happened between them just now, as the tears welling in his eyes suggested.

“I’m so sorry, Presley.” His hands shook as he pulled up his pants.

“Come back to me,” she begged.

He refastened his belt, head bowed. “I can’t do this.” His voice was empty, flat. “I…” He finally lifted his head, and she nearly wept at the pain that lay present in his eyes. So much passed through his expression—the horror at what he’d done to her and the acknowledgment that he had now failed her even more. “That loss of control can never happen again.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling deep in her soul. “Please don’t leave me now.”

“That was unforgivable. Completely fucking despicable.” His shoulders slumped before he added softly, “You deserve better than this. I can’t give you what you need right now.”

“No!” she shouted at him, chilly to her bones. “I didn’t safe-word to create more distance. I safe-worded to bring you back to me.” She had wanted to show him how lost he was and how broken he’d become. More important, she wanted to stop him from touching her without emotion and forcing him to realize how much she needed him to touch her the way he usually did.

But it was too late.

He opened the front door and left.

She slid to the ground, grabbing the robe from the floor and wrapping it around her shoulders. Coldness sank into her as she stared at the shut door, absorbing the silence in the room and feeling more alone than ever. Tears spilled over her cheeks, and then hard sobs broke free from her chest.

You promised you would never hurt me.