Claimed (19 page)

“I see.”

Dmitri swallowed past the emotion within her voice. If she were with him now, he’d embrace her. “Doll, you have a sweet heart that you care so much for others.”

Presley took two deep breaths before she said, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

* * *

On Monday night, Presley turned over in bed, squinting in the darkness as she looked at her clock on the nightstand. The green lights displayed nine o’clock. She sighed, rubbing her heavy eyes, as the workday had been long. Her hands ached from the nonstop clients who sat in her dental chair. Why hadn’t Dmitri called?

Now she expected the call, since he’d called last night, and disappointment coursed through her. Turning away to face the wall, she snuggled into her pillow. The only time her phone had made any noise tonight was when Steven had called twice, which she flatly ignored, then his text minutes later.

Last chance, Presley. Call me!

She’d spent a good hour afterward amused that Steven thought his threat held any sort of weight. Dang, it pleased her when he finally gave up. About damn time. She suspected the only reason he hadn’t shown up at Cora’s was because he knew a death sentence awaited him if he did.

More than annoyed with the night’s events or lack thereof, she exhaled to command sleep, shut off her mind, and her body settled into relaxation when, suddenly, the phone rang. On a gasp, she jumped up and grabbed the phone, pressing it to her ear. “Hello?” She immediately wanted to smack herself for not checking to see if it was Steven. But as Dmitri’s low seductive voice drifted through the line and melted across her, her concern settled. “Did I wake you, doll?”

“No,” she muttered, rubbing at her eyes again. “Why are you calling so late?”

“Had a hell of a day at work and just got out of my last meeting. I’m sorry I didn’t call until now, but I couldn’t get to a phone.”

At the sound of frustration in his voice, Presley glanced at the clock, realizing she had lied to Dmitri. It was eleven o’clock; she must’ve fallen asleep without knowing it. “Gosh, it is late. Does that happen often?”

The hum of an engine sounded through the line, as well as a honk off in the distance. “Not usually, but sometimes matters can’t wait.”

“It’s all sorted out now?”

“It better be,” Dmitri muttered. “It’s nothing to worry about, boring casino business.”

Presley leaned her head against the pillow and was actually glad she had a less responsible job. At least she didn’t have the stress of Dmitri’s job, and if she messed up, it wouldn’t put an entire casino out of business. “You’re going home now, then?”

“On my way.” The engine revved to a higher speed. “All right, doll, I wanted to check in and let you know I hadn’t forgotten about you, but it’s late, and you need to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

The way he followed through with everything comforted her, and she felt the wave of trust embrace her. He hadn’t broken a single promise to her, or wavered on his word, not even once. She probably wouldn’t have called him, because she would have been worried about waking him up, but he’d said he would call, and he did. Within that conviction came a feeling she lost herself in. “Okay. Good night.”

“’Night, love.”

* * *

Dmitri stared up at the ceiling in his bedroom. Tuesday had come and gone, which he was glad for, because he had waited for this call all damn day. The light on the end table next to him was the only glow in the dark room at ten o’clock. It surprised him that he’d talked to Presley for two hours now about her life growing up in Apple Valley.

His arm was folded behind his head on the pillow while his other hand held the phone against his ear. “Was Steven your only boyfriend?”

“Well . . .” Presley’s voice sounded rough, and he suspected she wanted off the subject, which was exactly why he dug. “I had a couple of boyfriends before him, but they weren’t anything serious.”

He’d figured as much, and he liked that Presley hadn’t had many men touch her. In fact, he fucking loved it. “You broke up a few months ago, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

While he’d already learned this from Cora, it pleased him that Presley was honest, since it was pretty clear that she hated the current conversation. He had to wonder if Cora had misread her. Her avoidance of the topic might mean her heart still reached for this ex-boyfriend. “Do you miss him?”

“Hell, no.” She gasped an absolutely horrified sound into the phone. “Why would you ask that?”

Now, that reaction he approved of, and clearly, Cora had it right, but why hadn’t Presley spoken of Steven and told Dmitri about his affair? Why hadn’t she called the asshole out for the prick he was? And why did she protect someone who undoubtedly broke her heart? Perhaps she was over Steven and didn’t feel the need to dwell. He hoped that was the reason. “Curious question is all, and I do believe it’s a valid one. You didn’t break up all that long ago.”

“No.” She exhaled, and it crackled through the phone line. “I don’t miss anything about Steven. The relationship didn’t end well, and I’m perfectly happy he’s out of my life.”

“Glad to hear it, doll.” He’d enjoyed this conversation too much to ruin it by talking about ex-lovers, so he changed the subject to lighten the mood. “All right, tell me this, do you honestly enjoy cleaning people’s teeth?”

“Of course I do.” She laughed. “If I didn’t, I’d have a problem, considering my parents spent a lot of money for me to go to school for it.”

He preferred her this way, happy, and he tried to imagine himself in her position. He failed to see the interest. “It’s an odd job.”

“Hey!” she bit off.

“Sorry, love, but putting my hand in a stranger’s mouth to clean dirty teeth is not for me.”

She chuckled softly, and maybe she tried to picture him doing the job, too. “It’s really not so bad. I love how clean the teeth are afterward. It’s very rewarding. I’m never left with the feeling of not having done a good job.”

Dmitri paused. That one statement was so
Presley
. “You need that? To always feel rewarded?”

She laughed. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“No,” he answered, causing her laughter to cease. He believed she needed to hear what he had to say next. “Not everyone needs to hear from others that they’ve done well.”

Her hesitation wasn’t long, but enough time passed that he knew she’d considered with care what he said. “It’s how I’ve always been.”

“Yes, I know,” he said lightly in agreement. “But you need to break away from the habit of trying to please everyone, don’t you?”

She snorted into the phone. “How would you suggest I do that?”

“You already are.” He knew in this moment that they were at the heart of one of her biggest obstacles as a submissive. While some women came into the lifestyle early enough that it didn’t cause damage, Presley wasn’t so lucky.

Those who didn’t understand her needs had mishandled her submissive tendencies. She’d been so desperate to feel rewarded that she’d given all of herself. Instead of her need being fed and answered, she’d been crushed. To be perfectly clear, he added, “You don’t need to please or hear approval from
everyone,
only from
me
.”

She stayed silent for a long few seconds as she clearly processed what he’d said, and he hoped she realized that her need to please wasn’t a fault; in fact, it was what made her a submissive. But that part of her needed to be protected and not given to those who didn’t deserve the gift.

Her long deep breaths sounded through the phone line before she said quietly, “Have you always been this sure about yourself?”

“Yes, doll, always.” He firmed his voice. “So should you be.”

* * *

On Wednesday evening, Presley sank down into her bed, sighing as she stared up at the ceiling, surrounded by the yellow walls. The room was tiny, with space only for the double bed, glass end table, and old wooden dresser, but Presley didn’t mind. The room at Cora’s had everything she needed.

Her conversation with Dmitri last night had remained on her mind all day. Not only that they’d talked well into the night, but also what he’d said about her need to please. Sure, she’d always known she held the desire to please others before herself. She’d just never thought of it until last night, that the trait made her a good submissive. She supposed she’d never pieced it together or understood that side of herself completely, but Dmitri had it right. The past weeks she wasn’t pleasing everyone, only him.

As she looked back at their time together, she noticed how happy she’d become, and she knew it was because Dmitri took her need to please and fueled it. When she did as he asked, he engulfed her in approval, and when he disapproved, he made himself clear so she could correct herself. He wanted her to succeed, so he could reward her, and within that knowledge, she found contentment.

At the same time, each day that passed and every telephone call they shared seemed to bring them closer together, and that increased her arousal. He held a power over her that she couldn’t ignore, and dammit, he’d removed her right to masturbate. Well, she could masturbate but not orgasm, so what was the damn point?

She remembered the authority in his eyes, how incredible it was when he focused solely on her, and how his confident touches simmered across her skin. She couldn’t forget that he seemed to know exactly how to touch her to bring forth a reaction and how his deep voice made her shiver . . .

Good God, would she ever
not
be wet again?

The ringing of her phone dragged her away from her thoughts, and she reached over to the nightstand to grab the cordless phone. She clicked it on and raised the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

Dmitri paused before he said, “You sound tired.”

“Am a bit,” she admitted.

“What’s wrong?” His voice firmed. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“Oh . . .” She hesitated, the throb between her thighs frustrating her. Each night had seemed longer than the one before. “I guess, a little trouble. How was your day?”

“Busy day. I just went out for dinner with the guys, and I’m on my way home now.” He hesitated. “Give me one second, doll, I need to pull the car over.” When he spoke next, his voice dipped low. “Where are you in the house?”

“In my bedroom.” She scrunched up her nose, doing her best to ignore the funny things happening in her southern regions. “Why?”

“Is the door closed?”

“Yes,” she replied with reluctance, and repeated, “Why?”

“What are you wearing?”

She laughed, yet even to her own ears, she sounded tense and edgy. “You sound like some perverted phone stalker.”

“Answer the question,” he demanded.

At the command in his voice, she shivered and clenched her thighs together. “Yoga pants and a T-shirt.”

“Take off your pants.”

“Here?” she gasped. “Now?”

“Yes, Presley. Right there. Right now.” His voice had dropped even deeper, and it affected her right down to her toes. Her body flamed with a heat that only he could conjure as he continued. “Take off your pants and your panties.”

With simply his command to urge her on, she slid out of her comfy pants, taking her panties off, too. The warm air in the room seemed ice-cold against the fiery flesh between her thighs.

A moment later, Dmitri asked, “Are you naked from the waist down?”

“Yes,” she stated. “I feel very naked.”

He chuckled. “Of course you do, you
are
naked.” Then his voice slid into the sexy low register, making her quiver. “Place your hand on that sweet pussy. Are you wet?”

Running her hand down her stomach, she cupped herself and was slightly shocked—or maybe not so much—when she brushed against her lower lips. “Yes.”

“Very nice,” he murmured. “Stroke yourself and spread your juices all over you.” She did as she was told, and her breath hitched. “Drag the moisture up to your clit and circle it. Does it feel good, love?”

The second her finger brushed across her nub, she wiggled her hips and moaned. “So good.”

“Press harder now.” His voice had sharpened, making her sizzle from her head right down to her curled toes.

She put more pressure against herself and drew her knees up as he told her, “Rub harder and think back to my lips on yours. How I traveled down your neck to the place that makes you shiver. Imagine my flogger when it thumped along your ass, and how much you want my tongue to lick up your sweet cunt.”

Those images—and naughty words—had her shifting her hips, gasping, and Dmitri chuckled. “Ah, I see you’re enjoying yourself. Keep going and circle your hips. Ride against your fingers.”

As she bit down on her lip, zings of pleasure flicked up her body like wildfire and made pressure rise low in her body. Each swirl of her hips connected with her nub in a way she’d never experienced while masturbating, and the weight of his voice, his command, drove her higher.

“Remember how my whip kissed your skin like flames, how my finger felt in your tight ass, and how your orgasm felt with all those people watching you.” As her breath hitched on a moan, he added, “Now swirl your fingers. Move your hips. Press harder. Go faster.”

Pressing down on her clit in a hard demand, she worked her hips in time with the whirls against her flesh. Dmitri’s breath sounded rough through the receiver and urged her to move faster. “Oh, God.” Was she there already? In what, minutes? Even alone with her vibrator, she took twenty minutes to get off. Now she screwed her eyes shut as tension filled her body. Her muscles clenched, and her breath became trapped in her throat.

“Faster, Presley,” Dmitri ordered. “Even faster.”

She gripped the phone tightly and moved faster, moaning against the intense pressure as he took her higher . . . and higher . . .

“You will come now for me, Presley. I want to hear it, doll.”

As if his order itself had power over her, she gasped a hard long breath before she sucked it back into her lungs, then she held it as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, arching her back off the bed. When she lowered to the bed, her breath whooshed out, and she gave little wiggles against her fingers to ride out her climax.

Once her breath settled, her whimpers drew quiet, and she’d recovered from the aftereffects of her release, he asked, “Are you feeling more relaxed?”