The Bratva's Captive (Wicked Doms 3) - Page 58

Kneeling in front of her, with one of her little feet in my hands, I hold her gaze.

"Because I'm not a good man, Olena. And I never will be. And if there's anything at all between us, you have to know that now."

She holds my gaze in silence. I put her foot down and rise, lathering my own body and washing my hair until the water runs clear between us. My cock aches, swelling while I look at her stunning body. Her curves and valleys, so sweet and responsive. Begging to be licked, caressed, fucked.

She watches me as I wash myself, her eyes running shamelessly over my arms, dwelling on the thick layers of tattoos that cover most of my upper body. Swallowing, she takes me in, not bothering to hide her own attraction to me.

"I wish this wasn't so," she whispers. "I wish there really could be something between us."

But then she closes her eyes and clamps her lips together, as if she wishes she didn't speak so freely.

"There is something between us," I tell her, reaching over to shut off the water. "You belong to me and you will obey me. You will answer to me as your master and I will take care of your needs."

"As if you fucking know my needs," she says.

We're clean now. And I've had enough of the way she speaks to me. I clench my jaw as I reach for a towel and step out, drying myself off and slinging the towel about my hips before I take one for her. Before I reach for her, I open the door to the bathroom. Looking for anything at all that would indicate someone's broken in here. Normally I would trust the level of security we have here, but if one of my men is a traitor, he could easily overcome whatever security measures we have.

I lift her out of the tub, dripping wet on the thick ivory carpet on the floor. She lets me dry her, then lead her to the bedroom. Without a word, I stand her in front of me, facing me, while I pull on a pair of boxers.

"Do I get clothes this time?" she asks.

I smirk at her. "Why? So I can enjoy taking them off you?"

"As if I'm spreading my legs for an asshole like you again?"

"As if you have a choice?"

I watch the way her eyes widen. I reach for her arm, gliding my thumb over the soft skin at her wrists. Her pulse races against my hold.

She loves losing control to me. I love taking it.

I place a knuckle under her chin and raise her eyes to mine. "Do you really think after what we've shared that I'll allow you to speak to me the way you have? That I wouldn't punish you for disrespect? Hmm?"

She doesn't respond.

"Confirmation, then," I tell her. "You want me to punish you. You like it when I do."

"I do not," she says through clenched teeth.

I chuckle, sitting heavily on the bed. I could spank her. I could take my belt to her impudent little ass and make her mind me.

Or I could slowly strip away every one of her defenses.

"On your knees," I instruct, while I gently push her shoulders. She falls to her knees, her eyes growing a bit wary. I take my swollen, thick cock from my boxers and pry her mouth open. "It's hard to speak with your mouth full of cock, isn't it?" Her eyes go half-lidded and she swallows hard.

"Open for me."

Her eyes never leave mine while she obeys, opening her mouth tentatively to take my cock. The first feel of her warm, wet mouth on me and I groan out loud. Fuck, that feels good.

But this isn't about simple, carnal pleasure. This is about teaching her who I am. Showing her that I'm not the man she wants me to be.

I weave my hands through her thick hair, tightening my grip at her scalp, and tug her head back while she sucks me. Her eyes close and she whimpers. Bracing myself, I thrust, choking her. I love the sound of her gagging on my cock. Her eyes water but she continues to suckle. My pulse races, my cock filling her sweet mouth as I thrust into her throat, bobbing her head with her hair fisted in my hand.

She gasps but continues to suck.

"That's a good girl, taking her punishment so well. Naughty little girls who run their mouths can suffer some mouth training." I thrust again, my hand at her throat, tensing. Reminding. She chokes, falling back onto her heels but quickly resuming the position while I thrust into her. With her lips wrapped around my cock, she releases a barely-perceptible, guttural moan. She wants this. She fucking wants this. I could coat her throat with my come, but I want her guessing. Waiting. And giving into my own pleasure right now might weaken me. I wait until I'm on the very edge of coming before I take my cock out.

Tags: Jane Henry Wicked Doms Erotic
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