Dmitri should stop Keira before this thing got out of control. He knew that. She was hurting and wounded, and he was a right bastard for allowing her to use him as another kind of drug. When they had sex, it had to be her choice while she was completely in her right mind, or she’d accuse him of coercing her. Taking advantage.
But he didn’t stop her.
Instead, he let her have control. There wasn’t enough damn light in the room to see more than the line of her body, the curve of her breasts and hips, the way her hair shifted around her shoulders. She pressed his cock down against his stomach and lined up her pussy over the top of him.
And then she began to move.
She was so fucking wet, and she spread her arousal over him with each sliding stroke, dragging herself over his cock but never granting him entrance. Seeking her own pleasure.
He ran his hands up her sides and cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples lightly. “Take what you need.”
“I plan on it.” She rolled her hips, pressing down harder. “The angle is wrong.”
Dmitri leaned up enough to hook the back of her neck and pull her down to him. He kissed her even as he urged her hips to start moving again. Judging by her moan, she’d found her angle. She kissed him with a need identical to the feeling building in his chest.
He didn’t lose control. Ever. Dmitri didn’t go into a situation unless he knew he’d come out on top, and he had yet to manage that with Keira. Oh, he’d won a few skirmishes, but she undermined his control with every breath she took, and he liked it far more than he should.
She went still, and he realized her intent. He tore his mouth from hers. “Don’t you dare.”
“Or what?” She shifted her hips, and his cock was at her entrance. Keira writhed against him, each move sinful and desperate. As if she couldn’t get enough. “What will you do to me, Dmitri?”
He’d destroy worlds to hear his name on her lips in exactly that tone of voice. Lustful. Needy. Teasing. Not like this. He grabbed her hips, holding her in place when she would have thrust down onto him. “This isn’t what you need tonight.”
“Funny.” She licked his jaw and then bit his chin. “I think I know what I need more than you do. And right now, I need your cock filling me.” She gave his throat an openmouthed kiss. “I want you to fuck me so hard, I feel it in the back of my throat.”
Fuck.
Keira shifted again, dragging her breasts over his chest. “God, you make me so fucking hot, I can’t think of anything else.” And then she went in for the kill. “Your wife needs you, Dmitri. She aches for you. She’s so fucking empty without you. Will you really deny her?”
He growled. “There is no going back from this. You want this, you will take it in full. There will be no waking up in the morning and claiming you didn’t really choose it. No regrets, moya koroleva. You want my cock?” He released her hips. “Then take it.”
Part of him thought he was calling her bluff.
He should have known better.
Keira slammed down, taking him to the hilt. She froze, her breath leaving her in a rush. “Damn, Dmitri.”
“Are you hurt?” He held perfectly still, cursing himself for not seeing where this was going, even as the beast he never let off the leash raged to flip her and thrust hard and deep. He touched her hips. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.” She rocked her hips ever so slightly. “It’s been a while and you’re bigger than your average bear.”
He blinked, trying to pick that sentence apart, but she didn’t give him the opportunity. Keira pressed her hands to his chest and slid almost all the way off his cock before slamming down again. “God, that’s good.”
She was so fucking wet and tight and…Fuck. “Condom.”
“Seriously?” She cocked her head to the side, sending her hair spilling over her shoulder. “You want little Russian Irish babies, but it’s a moot point because I’m on birth control. I’m clean as of my last doctor appointment, which I would be highly surprised to find that you didn’t know.”
He did know—he’d pulled her medical history the moment they met, and he’d done it again before carrying out his plan to marry her. “That’s beside the point.”
“It’s really not. Unless you’re about to tell me that you, Dmitri Romanov, are anything less than diligent when it comes to protecting yourself during sex.”
“Nyet.” That was the point. He never lost his mind enough to forget himself like he just had. There was too much as risk, and he never forgot that.
Until now.
“Want to know a secret?” She straightened and twined her arms over her head, leaving the long length of her body open to his view. Keira rolled her hips again, circling his cock. “Well?”
“Tell me.” He had no idea what would come out of her mouth next, and even her pussy clamping around his cock wasn’t enough to distract him from whatever secret she was about to impart.
Her white teeth flashed as she grinned in the darkness. “I haven’t been with anyone else since that first night we met.”
Rushing sounded through his ears, a possessive feeling surging in him that he had no goddamn right to. Mine. “No one.”
“Mm-hmm.” She tilted her head back and drew another circle with her hips. “I knew you were bad for me, but it didn’t matter because I wanted you. I still want you. I thought it would go away with time, but it only got worse. Stronger.”
She might as well have been describing his experience. He hadn’t taken her up on her offer that first night—or the second—but he’d wanted to. Something about the broken, beautiful woman drew him despite his best efforts.
He looped an arm around her waist and rolled them, pinning her hands over her head in the same move. “A secret for a secret, then, da?” He thrust deep, the possessive need to mark her as his growing with each stroke.
“Da.” Her accent was nearly flawless. He liked to imagine a time when they’d speak his mother tongue to each other, but it wouldn’t be now.
He ground his pelvis against her clit, their breath sharing the scarce distance between their faces. “I haven’t touched another woman since that night. After you, no one else would do.”
Keira arched up and took his mouth, her tongue mirroring what his cock was doing between her thighs. She raked her nails down his back, the biting pain in direct contrast with the pleasure drawing his balls up. He ground against her again, growling in Russian, “Come on my cock, moya koroleva. Take what’s yours.”
“Can’t understand you when you speak Russian.” She bit his shoulder. “Harder.”
He couldn’t have resisted her if he wanted to. The night had more than proven that truth. Dmitri hitched her legs higher and obeyed her command. Harder. The feeling of her clenching around him drew words he had no intention of speaking. “You feel so good, wife. Wet and tight and gripping my cock like you never want to let me go.”
* * *
Keira had no idea what Dmitri was growling in her ear, but it made her so hot, she was on the verge of exploding. I am fucking Dmitri Romanov. As many times as she’d imagined it, it didn’t come close to reality. His body overwhelmed hers, his solid thighs forcing hers out and up, his shoulders blocking out what little light there was, his hands everywhere at once. What made it even hotter was how intensely focused his attention was on her. She could feel it, even in the limited light.
He dragged his thumb over her nipple. “Stay with me, moya koroleva.”
“I’m here.” And she was. She laced her fingers through his hair and kissed him even as his rhythm picked up, driving her closer to the edge with each thrust.
He barely let her get a taste before he kissed down her jaw and set his teeth to her neck hard enough to make her jump and moan. “Mine.”
She tried to focus past the pleasure beating in time with her heart. “What did you just say?”
“Mine, Keira.” He drew back even as his hips never missed a beat. “You are mine. Your body, your pussy, your conniving mind.” He tapped her temple. “All mine.”
Of course he had to ruin a perfectly good fucking by opening up his goddamn mouth. “Go fuck yourself.”
“Why would I, when I can fuck you instead?” He kissed her.
She bit his tongue hard enough that he drew back with a curse. “Go. Fuck. Yourself. Get off me. Now.”
Dmitri shoved off her, still muttering in Russian. He raked a hand through his hair. “I do not understand you.”
“Why would you bother?” She drew her legs up and turned onto her side, watching him warily. Her body shook from the denied orgasm, but she’d be damned before she let that bullshit go down without a fight. She chose this, yes, but not like this. “I’m just a possession, after all.”
He cursed, long and hard. “You are deliberately misunderstanding me.”
“No, I don’t think I am.” It felt too representative of their relationship for her to stay prone while he towered over her, so she shoved onto her knees, getting in his face. “You bought me. I’m your real life blow-up doll, and you want to own every part of me. Guess what, Romanov, I’m a fucking person. You talk to me like that again and I’m gone, and to hell with the consequences.”
“Over my dead body.”
Just like that, it was all too much. He’d never let her leave him. She knew enough about how he operated to know that. He might not like locking her up, but he couldn’t afford to be made a fool of for the third time by an O’Malley.
And where would she run?
Not back to Boston. She’d never bring down his fury on her family, and Dmitri was too smart to push Aiden into a war he wasn’t sure he could win if she was gone. She couldn’t go home. She didn’t even want to.
No, the truth was that Keira had nowhere to go.
She wouldn’t let that stop her, though.
She shot out of the bed, dodging his hand when he reached for her. “Don’t touch me.”
“Keira, stop.”
She snatched a robe off a nearby chair and spun to point at him. “I’m naked, Romanov. I’m not going to go sprinting into the darkness of the night. I just need some fucking space.”
“Nyet. You will not run from me again.”
That was exactly what she’d do. “Space. Respect it.” Keira fled the room before he could say anything else unforgivable. Her body ached as if it resented the distance she put between them.
She’d done this.
She chose this, every step of the way, and now she was in over her head and she had no one else to blame but herself. That didn’t make it any easier to bear. She might not have signed on to this situation hoping for a great love, but she had dared hope that she’d be something to Dmitri. Maybe not a partner, but more than a goddamn pet. If they kept this up, she wouldn’t be surprised if he bought her a fucking collar to make it official.
Caged. Always caged, no matter which way I turn.
Desperation beat in her blood and she picked up her pace. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Keira just needed to…disconnect.
The stairs loomed before her, and she had to check her pace before she fell. She paused to shrug on the robe, finding it long enough to drag on the ground and draping several inches past her fingertips. But it was warm and comfortable, and even if she despised him currently, she couldn’t deny that Dmitri smelled good.
She lifted the hem like it was some bastardized version of a ball gown and hurried down the stairs. No footsteps sounded behind her, but she didn’t doubt for a second that Dmitri would send someone to fetch her. Even this small rebellion would be crushed.
It took precious minutes to reach her bedroom, lock the door, and head for the bathroom. She sank onto the floor and opened the cabinet, moving fast enough that she knocked over the vodka bottles, but not caring. She picked them up with shaking hands and lined them up in a little row on the floor in front of her crossed legs. Not enough. But it would have to do.
She unscrewed the first cap and inhaled slow and deep. The rubbing alcohol smell should have repelled her, but it smelled like a different sort of home. Like penance. Keira lifted the bottle to her lips.
It never made contact.
It was ripped from her grasp, leaving her gaping at Dmitri as he flung it into the sink hard enough that it bounced like a pinball. She gasped. “What the hell are you doing?”
“One could ask you the same thing.” He pointed at the sink where the little bottle lay in a pool of liquid that she could smell from where she sat. “What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I would think that’s obvious.”
“Oh, da, it’s obvious enough. One bump in the road, one hint of a fight, and you almost fling yourself down the stairs in your haste to get to the bottle.”
He’d been following more closely than she realized if he’d seen that misstep. She held perfectly still, even though every fiber of her being screamed at her to grab another bottle before he did something unforgivable. “If I want to drink—”
“Finish that sentence.”
She’d never seen him so threatening, not even when he was actually threatening her or someone she cared about. Dmitri’s gray eyes blazed at her, daring her to do exactly as he commanded. She lifted her chin. “It’s my business.”
“Wrong. So fucking wrong. You do not get to drink yourself to death, using me and everyone around you as an excuse while you do. That is where this road ends, Keira. It doesn’t stop at the bottom of this bottle, or the next, or the next. It ends with you in a coffin and every single fucking person who cares about you standing around as they lower it into the ground. Your brothers. Your sisters. Charlie. Me.”
She stared, trying to process. “It’s one fucking drink.”
“Lie to yourself if you must, but you will not lie to me.” His gaze flicked down to the cabinet she’d been hoping he would forget about, and he moved forward with purpose. “I thought withdrawal would be enough to deter you. I was wrong. If I have to assign you a babysitter to ensure you don’t backslide, I will do it. Do not think I won’t.”
It wasn’t a bluff. If he thought for a second that she was a danger, he’d ensure that she wouldn’t have access to anything resembling alcohol. Keira leaned back against the wall with a thud as Dmitri grabbed the remaining pair of bottles and set them on the counter next to the sink. She snarled. “God forbid your possession be in less than perfect working order.”
He muttered in Russian and poured the first bottle down the drain. Keira watched the clear liquid disappear and had the uncomfortable urge to drag her hands over the surface of the counter to drink whatever she could manage. Fuck me, I’m a mess.
It took less than two minutes to empty the two remaining bottles and wipe down the spilled vodka from the counter. Only then did he turn to her. “What do you want, Keira?”
Shock stole her breath for several long seconds. Had anyone since Devlin ever actually asked her that? It took two tries to find her voice. “I don’t know.”
His expression softened for a split second before he set his jaw. “You don’t want to be a possession? Fine. Figure out what you do want to and go for it. Stop being a victim and fight.”
“I have no power!”
His eyebrows rose. “No power.” Dmitri huffed a laugh. “For fuck’s sake, Keira, you have more than you know and I’m a damn fool for telling you as much.”
Surely he didn’t mean…
She didn’t have power over him. That was absurd. He owned her as he was so fond of telling her. It wasn’t the other way around.
Except…
She’d seen Dmitri with nearly every member of her family, and he’d never acted around them the way he acted around her. Even as early as their second meeting, he’d indulged her, just a little. She dropped her arms to her side, letting the robe gape open. It was hardly indecent, but his gaze followed that slight of skin all the same. “You want me.”
“You’re stating the obvious. Again. Why? You know how to play the game, Keira. You’ve proven you have brain in that beautiful head of yours. It’s only that poison that dulls it.” He slashed a hand through the air toward the sink. “Choose now—perpetual victim or the role you were always meant to play.”
What game was he at now? She tried for a belligerent tone. “And what role is that.”
“My motherfucking queen.”