“Tick-tock, tick-tock. How long have I had you hanging up there?”
Katrina shot an ‘if looks could kill’ glare in Novak’s direction. He just laughed. She looked up at the source of her current predicament: a giant meat hook in the dungeon ceiling and chains that extended from it to the leather cuffs around her wrists. Novak had adjusted the length of chain so that she could barely touch her toes to the floor, giving her wrists some relief while leaving her at his mercy. Just the way he liked it. Novak gave a happy sigh as he unbuttoned his shirt.
Katrina blew a strand of blonde hair off her face. She gazed hungrily at the leanly muscled torso that was revealed as the fabric separated. He draped the shirt over a chair. He stepped in close to her and ran a hand slowly along her naked torso, lingering over her ribcage before giving her breast a hard squeeze. He released the firm flesh and, with a push against her shoulder, sent her long, 6’ frame into a dizzying full-circle spin.
“You bastard!” she hissed, her hazel eyes narrowing with fury just before she lost sight of him and the room became a blurry kaleidoscope of dizzying colors.
“Ah, koshechka, we established that years ago.” He backed away, smiling slyly. As he watched her spin at the end of the chain, he took off the rest of his clothes. Prowling around her spinning form, he took in every detail of her beautiful, alabaster curves. He took in a satisfying lungful of air and slid a hand slowly down the taut muscles of his abdomen. When he reached his target, he palmed his cock briefly, then cupped his balls. He squeezed and lifted them in a steady rhythm before running his fingertips along his aching shaft.
Katrina still turned him on like a motherfucker, made him ache to unload everything he had inside her. No other woman had ever been able to withstand his intensely sexual nature, no one else had ever been able to keep up. Only her—his Katrina.
He clasped her shoulders to steady her so that she faced him, then grabbed a fistful of her tousled, untamed hair and nuzzled her neck. Her goosebumps made him smile. He loved her hair. Long, wild layers that swirled over her shoulders in countless shades of blonde that still fascinated him.
As he hummed with pleasure against her skin, her anger melted away and in its place a rush of desire flared deep within her. One touch from this man was all it took to send her body into a desperate state of need.
“Novak, please...” Katrina’s helpless moan was barely above a whisper, reminding him that he owned this woman just as much as she owned him.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and reached low to cup her ass, lifting her high against his chest as he released her wrist restraints from the chain. Her torso dropped over his shoulder as he stroked and kneaded the firm curve of her ass. He walked them from the sparsely furnished dungeon to the lushly appointed playroom that Glazov had installed nearby.
Novak sat on the edge of the bed and draped his wife’s body across his thighs. His erection pressed eagerly against her stomach. He still felt edgy. The interrogation earlier in the evening had done nothing to soothe his restless soul. The leather cuffs around her wrists were still linked together, limiting the use of her hands. He could do whatever he wanted to her.
His hand came down hard on her ass, once, twice, marking each cheek with a red, perfectly defined handprint. His long fingers slid between her cheeks, then ventured lower to stroke her soaked pussy. He thrust a finger deep inside her as he brought his free hand down again. Katrina cried out, arching her back into the stinging contact as she raised her ass toward him invitingly.
She wanted more, so much more. She felt the surge of blissful pleasure building. She desperately needed to come. Novak worked her clit, stroking the swollen bundle of nerves relentlessly, fluttering his fingertips against it until her hoarse cries took on an urgent, staccato rhythm that signaled her impending release. He jammed two fingers inside her, found the spot he knew so well, and pummeled her pussy with rapid, jabbing thrusts until she came apart wailing and groaning incoherently.
He removed the leather cuffs from her wrists, lifted her from his lap, and laid her on her back on the bed. Grasping the backs of her knees, he glared fiercely down at her as he pressed her legs wide apart and entered her with a single powerful, smooth thrust. When he bottomed out against her cervix, he circled his hips and closed his eyes, then gave a deep, throaty moan. He opened his eyes and froze, taken aback by the sight of the radiant, wanton siren beneath him. Novak placed her ankles on his shoulders and slid his hands down to caress her smooth, supple thighs and cup her ass. He circled his hips at a deep angle, wanting to get as deep as he could.
This wasn’t Novak’s brutal, ruthless side, which had been in control only moments earlier. This was the man only Katrina ever saw: deeply in love, enjoying his wife’s body, savoring every second of making love to her.
He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, huffing out an unsteady breath as he moved inside her. “Love you.”
“I love you, too, husband. Take us to paradise.”
They spent the rest of the night making love, in no hurry to rejoin the chaos of their Born Bratva world, simply happy to linger in the peaceful haven of each other’s arms.