The Bratva's Captive (Wicked Doms 3)

Pulling my nipple into his mouth, he makes the dildo vibrate while his thumb comes to my clit, circling the sensitive skin. I flinch, the intensity of the sensations flooding every inch of me.

"Oh God," I pant, just before a second orgasm comes on the heels of the first. My pelvis rocks against his hand, he sucks my nipple and strokes me, as spasms of pleasure consume me.

"Good girl," he whispers, fingering me and taking out the dildo, only to tease me with his cock. I moan when he glides effortlessly through my folds, stroking along my sensitized skin and groaning with pleasure. He doesn't enter me though I ache for him, but slides between my folds over and over again until I think I'm going to come apart a third time.

"Fuck," he grates out. "I want this pussy."

Lifting my hips, he slides his cock into my core, pulling me down so he fills me. I drop my head to his chest. So full. So perfect. Two orgasms already and I want to come a third time, but this time with him in me.

"Look at me," he orders. My eyes fly to his, unable to disobey anything he tells me to do right now, when I'm at his mercy and command.

"Sir," I pant.

"You will obey me."

He lifts my hips and slides me down over his cock.

"I will obey you."

"You will not defy me."

"I will not defy you."

Pleasure rips through me with another firm thrust.

We move together in silent ecstasy, his heated gaze never wavering from mine.

"Because you belong to me."

A sharp intake of breath on the verge of another climax. "Because I belong to you," I breathe, just as he throws his head back and comes with a groan that makes me clench around him. I drop my forehead to his chest, our skin still damp from the shower, and breathe in the scent of him. So quickly, he tears down my reserves.

This is nothing more than pure, animalistic attraction. No more, no less. Raw passion that burns between both of us, borne of needs we both have that can be sated with one another. For now.

I wanted to escape, but now...

"Maksym."

"Yes, angel?" He's softened again.

Don't fall for him. Don't. He isn't your friend, and he most certainly cannot be your lover.

I can't allow myself to become vulnerable again. He doesn't care for me. He only wants to use me.

But there's something he needs to know.

"I hate my father," I tell him.

He blinks in surprise. "Yeah," is all he says.

I hated him before. For the way he's treated me, and I know there are things he's done I don't even know of. But the fact that he lied to me when he found out I'd been going to visit Maksym.

A part of me wants to stay with Maksym, just because it would infuriate my father. To know that I joined with his enemy. That despite his lies to me, I found this man.

It doesn't make sense though. Maksym doesn't want to be with me. He's angry and fearsome and likely doesn't even have the capacity to treat me the way I need, and yet—

"Ty budesh' sebya vesti?"

He asks me if I'll behave, and a part of me wants to. To earn his praise. His attention. Hell, his adoration.

I want this. I want this so damn badly it hurts. I hate that it does, because this complicates things.

"We're going downstairs to meet with my brothers. You must behave, Olena." He wraps his fingers through my hair and tugs to get my attention. "Listen to me. It's imperative you obey me. We both need to be focused on the meeting with my brothers. To observe anything and everything that would help us confirm who came after us, if anyone. If you obey me, they'll believe you are mine." His voice drops. "If you don't—"

I nod. I know what's at stake. I want to find whoever it is that's after us as much as he does. I suspect whoever it is works for my father.

"I get it," I tell him. He drags the back of his hand down my cheek, and something warm and pleasant glides through me, making my heart expand when hope rises.

"If you do behave, I'll make it worth your while," he promises. And he will. I know he will, for he's a man of his word. He means what he says.

"Deal," I say with a nod. "Got it."

A corner of his lips quirks up. It's the first time I've seen him smile in hours. Days even.

"We need something to eat," he says. Breakfast with our hosts seems so long ago now.

"Yeah." My stomach growls, and he laughs out loud. I roll my eyes, but he only chuckles, rolls, and lays me on my back.

"Stay there," he says, and he comes back a moment later with a towel to clean me up. "Let's get you dressed, and we'll eat downstairs."