Claimed (23 page)

In his hold and with his intense stare on her and the power behind his words, emotion slammed into her chest. The wind was sucked right out of her lungs, almost as if something inside of her broke, and on a deep inhale, all the pain stored up inside of her burst wide open. Tears flooded her eyes.

Through her deep sobs, he released her from the binds and gathered her into his strong arms. Then he strode forward and sat down on the couch. That was when Presley noticed that he’d taken her away from the corner and brought her into the main part of the dungeon. He cuddled her on his lap with a tight hold, and in his arms, she cried.

She wept for all the disappointments and the times she’d swallowed the shards of her broken heart. For all those nights she’d felt alone. For all the judgment she’d turned on herself. And she didn’t stop crying until there was nothing left to cry about.

No more emotions to shed, no more pain to bare. All that remained was a placid soul in its wake, touched so deeply and affected. Forever changed in the strength and care of the man holding her as if he would never let her go.

Once her weeping melted into soft whimpers, a firm finger lifted her head, and Master Dmitri gazed at her with a softness reaching down into her soul. “Better?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”

She attempted to wipe the remnants of moisture off her face, but he brushed away the tears with his thumbs and said, “You will remind yourself of tonight and how empowered you must have felt to voice what was going on in your mind. Next time Steven or anyone who has mistreated you, talks to you, you
will
stand up for yourself. You deserve that, Presley.”

She sniffed. “You’re right, sir. I do.”

He sighed, long and deep, relief washing over his features. “I’m glad to hear you say that, doll.” Then his gaze darkened, and his voice firmed. “I don’t want to revisit this correction. Do not ever make me put you through a scene like that again. It does not please me to watch you struggle, or see another man’s hands on what’s mine.”

Presley paused at the hot possession in his features, though as quickly as it came, he controlled it. Before she had a chance to make sense of the shift, he skimmed his hand down her thigh. “Now open for me. This has been a shit of a night, and I want to make us both feel better.”

Widening her legs, she wanted to give him all of herself, and he deserved nothing less: a man who wanted to dominate her but who appreciated her, respected her, cherished her, and above all else, demanded that she respect herself.

He slid her panties to one side and slipped one finger inside her, then two, and she arched her back. He settled in nice and deep, giving a few gentle thrusts. After he withdrew, he dragged her moisture up to the ache of her clit, where he swirled the bud, and she squirmed in his arms.

“Stay still.” At his hard yet tender command, she relaxed in his arms. “That’s it, love. Put your foot there on the table. Yes, that’s right. Now angle up those beautiful hips . . . ah, lovely.” Spread entirely open now, she held his focus, ignoring the crowd she couldn’t see but sensed all around her. Master Dmitri’s mouth twitched. “I know you enjoy being watched, doll, and they enjoy watching you.”

A rush of pure unadulterated heat made her quiver and her blood turn to liquid fire, not only at the others watching her but more that they witnessed Master Dmitri touching her. The way he had the power to make the world fade away, making the moment only about them.

Once he settled his fingers deep within, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pinned her to him. “You’re going to come hard enough to soak my thigh, Presley.”

Before she had a chance to tell him she couldn’t come like
that,
he thrust into her with hard and fast up-and-down strokes. Her breath became stuck somewhere in between an inhale and an exhale; she wasn’t quite able to react to the deep pressure building inside and curling her toes.

Each hard thrust sent his palm smacking against her clit, and her eyes closed against the surge of pleasure. She grasped his flexing forearm, digging her fingernails into his skin. Heat burned deep in her belly, shooting through her veins, making her scream against the intense sensation.

Within only a few more thrusts, all those inner tight muscles clenching to survive released, exploding into unknown ecstasy. Light danced before her closed eyes, and her pelvis flared with powerful contractions.

At some point, he had removed his fingers, but she remained in the hazy aftereffects of a mind-blowing orgasm. The air around her seemed to have vanished, and she could only pant and whimper against the whole body throb she now endured.

Her mind snapped into focus only when Master Dmitri took her hand and placed her palm on his thigh. He gave her that devilish half-grin. “Nicely wet, wouldn’t you say?”

“I didn’t know I could do that,” she gasped.

“Of course you didn’t.” His voice dropped low, and his eyebrow lifted. “Your orgasms belong to me. Only and always to me, Presley.”

His possessive claim made her realize that she hadn’t mistaken it earlier. But she was more than done with thinking things over and even more exhausted from the night. She’d be happy about that once her mind decided to work again. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter Eighteen

The hot, dry midafternoon Vegas sun beamed down on Presley as she strode down the dental office’s staircase, cursing her feet with every step. Five dental cleanings in a four-hour shift were enough to leave her in need of a good massage and a hot bath. Maybe it was time to find employment at a dental clinic that didn’t do urgent care and wasn’t open on weekends.

Last night had proved exactly why she should get her résumé together. She had wanted to stay over at Dmitri’s house, investigate that possessive edge, but he’d said she needed a good rest before work and her body had agreed. The night had exhausted her, not only physically but emotionally.

However, during her half-day shift she had noticed a subtle change in herself. She didn’t work hard because she had to prove to herself and the client that she was good at her job, but because that was what she was paid to do. Perhaps most wouldn’t notice the switch in her motivation, but she had, and it startled her enough that she almost sprayed water on the client’s face.

What Dmitri told her had been right. She didn’t
need
to please everyone, only him, and there was freedom in that. The heaviness had left her chest, and she smiled, realizing Charles’s importance to Dmitri’s life.

He’d said the lifestyle helped him control his need to be dominant in public because the need was met in private, and he’d done the same for her. She noticed over the last weeks that the worried voices in her head—always telling her how to act, desperately seeking approval, and making sure everyone was happy—had settled, because Dmitri fed those desires, as well as gave her the kink her body enjoyed.

Happiness rushed through her. Things were good, real good.

She’d stepped off the last step and inhaled the hot air, catching a whiff of the not-so-nice scents that came from a busy city, when a hand wrapped around her arm and she started. Jerking her gaze up from the cement pathway, she blinked in surprise. “Steven?” His nose didn’t look broken, but he had two black eyes that she suspected would look worse in a couple days. “What are you doing here?”

His hold tightened against her arm, his brown eyes darkening. “Do you really need to ask that question?”

“Um . . .” Her instincts warned her. “What do you want?”

His features were twisted, and his voice took on a low growl. “What are you now, some freak?”

“Pardon me?”

“After you moved in with Cora, I dug around and learned about the fucked-up sex shit Cora’s into from an old boyfriend of hers.” Steven gripped Presley’s arm painfully hard, giving her an ugly glare. “Yeah, I wanted to find out what type of person she was, and I didn’t like what I found. She goes to fucking sex clubs.”

Presley could only assume Steven was talking about an old club Cora used to attend, since she’d read the strict privacy clause in the dungeon’s agreement. She knew without a doubt that Cora never would have told anyone about Club Sin
,
especially not a vanilla ex-boyfriend.

Steven drew in a sharp breath and said through clenched teeth, “I knew it at Mickey’s in how the fucker talked to you—degraded you right before my fucking eyes. So, I followed you after the pervert punched me.” His eyes narrowed into slits, and his voice became taut with tension. “I saw you go to that mansion, which must be the sex club, since I saw not only Cora show up there dressed like a fucking whore, but a lot of other women, too.”

“Followed me?” Presley’s blood boiled, and his appearance at Mickey’s made a whole lot of sense. He
had
followed her from her home last night, and apparently, he’d followed her to Dmitri’s house, too. “You have no right to do that!”

“Like hell I don’t.” His expression contorted with unleashed rage, and his voice became even scarier. “We were together for eight fucking years, and you came to Vegas for me. Fine, we’re no longer together, but I still consider you my friend. And you’re in way over your head here. Clearly, you’ve lost your goddamn mind.” Emotion raged so deep in his eyes that a vein in the middle of his forehead looked a second away from bursting. “I’m close to your family, and I won’t let you become a whore. I won’t let you go down this road.”

Crap, why did he have to do this at her office? Part of her wanted to scream and yell at him because he had no right to say any of it. The other part realized the type of conversation they were having in front of the dental office. Glancing out to the road, she noticed a man on the street had stopped and was looking at them, indicating that they were making a scene. Over his shoulder, she noticed Steven’s red Chevy truck. “We can’t talk about this right here. This is my work, Steven.”

She headed for his truck. At the passenger door, she opened it and dropped down into the seat. They could discuss this in private, not right in front of her damn employer.

To her disappointment, Steven didn’t go to the driver’s-side door but came to stand on her side and held the door open, the nasty, fierce look still on his face. “What would your mother think if she knew what you were doing? Have you not thought about her? About how much this would horrify her?”

Presley had thought of that; thought of it until it made her so guilty, she couldn’t breathe. Her mother would be appalled if she knew her daughter enjoyed being manhandled and loved the kiss of a whip. But it was none of anyone’s business what she did with her sex life, not her mother’s, or her father’s, and definitely not Steven’s.

Her lips thinned. “Steven.”

“I’ve made a decision,” he stated. “This is how it will go: Your time here in Vegas has officially ended. I won’t let you destroy yourself. You’re a nice girl, always have been, and I’m sorry that because I cheated, you have no self-esteem and now think so little of yourself that it pushed you into this lifestyle.”

“That’s not—”

He raised his hand. “I’m making up for what I did. Trust me, you’re angry now, but soon you’ll come to realize you’ve lost your fucking mind. If your parents knew what you were doing, fuck, Presley, they’d be more than disgusted.”

No, this didn’t make any sense. What in the hell was he doing? Was it because he felt guilty for cheating and thought he was doing her a favor? Well, that she could change. “Steven, you’re wrong. I’m happy, totally fine.”

He pointed at her face and gave her the ugliest, scariest glare she’d ever seen. “See, that statement makes me realize how far you’re gone. Do you not remember who you used to be? Presley, you joined a sex club! You the innocent, never-do-wrong, sweet Presley. Think about this! Fuck, it’s like a damn cult, they’ve brainwashed you.”

Well, yes, she had been innocent and sweet when she had first met Dmitri. Heck, she still thought of herself that way, maybe just a little kinkier now. “No—”

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Steven’s eyes narrowed, cutting off her further protests. “If you go quietly and return home, I won’t tell your parents what you’ve been doing. If you fight me, I’ll tell them every damn detail about the type of place you belong to and what they do there.”

Her heart thudded, a cold sweat covered her skin, and the threat stole the air from her lungs. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Steven leaned in, nose-to-nose. “Wanna bet?”

* * *

Dmitri had worked at home in the morning, spent a couple of hours in the gym, and showered before he left his house at three o’clock in the afternoon for an appointment. Tonight would be a big night for both him and Presley, and preparations had to be in order before he opened the dungeon doors at seven o’clock.

His afternoon appointment was quick and painless, and now he was on his way to his dinner date. Due to heavy Vegas traffic, he had arrived at the five-star restaurant Stoneblock ten minutes late
.
He strode forward through the restaurant and smiled when he spotted a familiar face. He’d asked Presley last night—even if she didn’t know it—not to bring her past into her present, and he owed her the same.

While the night with Steven had angered him, a few good things had come out of the night, including Presley calling at least one person an asshole. He hoped she saw that being so nice to Steven had weakened her. Besides, Dmitri needed to trust she could and would stand up for herself, or he’d be stressed whenever she was without him, which wasn’t the life he wanted.

Trust, love, and respect—he’d admired that type of relationship between Charles and Mary, and yes, that’s what he craved.

During Presley’s scene with Kyler, Dmitri had nearly bolted off the stool when Kyler put his hands on her, though Dmitri had asked him to. But the part from the scene that had pleased him was the revulsion in her eyes at Kyler’s touch. That had allowed him to stay in his seat. He loved that Presley heated only under his touch.

The other realization was entirely about him. His little submissive had gotten to him last night. Her words to him at dinner had affected him right down to his bones, and he’d been up all night thinking over what she had said to him:
“When does someone get to take care of you, Dmitri?”