Page 3 of Claim Me (Dmitriyev Bratva #2)

M arissa

“You’re so beautiful, Marissa. Every inch.” He brushed his fingers down my arm, tilting his head slightly before sliding the tips under my breast.

I took a deep breath, trembling from his touch. While the look in his eyes was powerful, dominating, his actions were gentle. He’d stripped me of my clothes while remaining in his. His heated gaze never left me as he trailed his fingers across every inch of my skin.

“Thank you, sir,” I whispered, almost fearful to speak. He remained in the shadows while I was exposed in the light above, yet I could still see the possessiveness of his eyes. So dark. So hypnotic.

With my pulse high, I fisted my hands to keep from moving. He chuckled softly as if knowing how much I craved being allowed to touch him.

“So obedient. Such a good girl.” He rolled the tip of his pinky around my nipple. I was fully aroused and had been from the moment he’d walked into my home.

After taking a deep breath, he pinched the hardened bud between his thumb and forefinger. The pain was glorious, tiny prickles like shards of glass tickling my senses.

He rubbed the flat of his hand across my chest, instantly twisting my other nipple. The corner of his mouth lifted and he issued a single nod of approval. “Are you wet for me?”

“Yes.”

A hard pinch forced a moan.

“Try again, baby girl. Remember. Obedience.”

“Yes, sir.” Trembling, I allowed my gaze to drift to the thick bulge between his legs.

“Perhaps I should find out for myself.” With absolute control, he rubbed his palm roughly down my stomach while nudging my legs further apart with his knee.

I held my breath as he slipped his hand between my thighs, cupping my mound.

I was bare as he’d demanded, my pussy throbbing from anticipation. Every inch of my skin was on fire.

Still shivering, I was suddenly alive, hearing music in my mind I’d never heard before: strong notes, deep bass, and a heavy drive that exposed an array of emotions. He rubbed my swollen pussy lips several times, creating electric friction. A single moan escaped, the sound deep and throaty.

“Yes, very wet.” He cracked his fingers against my wetness, forcing a single whimper.

I bit my lip, almost falling forward from the hint of agony. He repeated the action three more times in rapid succession before driving a single finger into my tight channel.

“Yeeesss… Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” As he added a second then third finger, I allowed myself to slide into an incredible abyss where all time stopped and nothing else mattered but his care and protection of me.

He didn’t stop, chuckling darkly as he thrust all four fingers inside, the force driving me onto my toes. I gripped his arms, still shaking, my core exploding. My mind drifted, the longing to please him more important than anything.

His hot breath cascaded across my face as he rolled his thumb around my clit.

“Still such a bad girl. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” I could barely recognize my voice.

“You need harsh discipline.”

My entire body ached from the thought. “Yes, sir.”

He cupped my chin with his other hand, nodding as if I’d pleased him. “I will mark you as mine for all the world to see. Would you like that?”

“Please. Yes, please, sir.”

After taking a deep breath, he jammed his fingers into my wetness, pumping with wild ferocity, but I knew he wouldn’t allow me to climax. Not yet.

Not until I’d been punished.

When he pulled his hand free, I gasped, ready to beg him to continue, but his stern look reminded me I was to remain quiet. As he backed away, heading toward the side of the stage, I moved toward the piano. I’d rehearsed the moment a half dozen times, I knew what to expect.

As he pressed a button, the rumble of the mechanism vibrated throughout my body. I fisted my hands, standing straight as the velvet curtain began to raise.

The applause was thunderous, the crowd on their feet. A shimmer of light pulsed down from above as if heaven was smiling. I basked in the moment of glory until he approached, pointing toward the piano.

Without hesitation, I took my place, spreading my legs wide open and bending over. Being completely naked in front of the huge crowd was freeing, a reminder I was his dirty little girl.

He moved behind me, brushing the tips of his fingers down my spine, the oohs and ahhs from the audience still a complete rush. As he rolled his index finger down the crack of my ass, he allowed me to hear his deep, rumbling growls.

“Such a pretty pink pussy. Everyone knows how wet you are for me. For your master. You’re all mine. Arch that pretty back of yours so everyone can see those sweet pussy lips.”

As he backed away, I shuddered from anticipation, obeying instantly. The shouts of admiration echoed in my ears.

As he backed into the shadows, I struggled to see what he was doing even though I knew. The hard crack of the thick leather strap seconds later was affirmation.

I was breathless.

I was excited.

“My beautiful virtuoso deserves harsh punishment. Twenty strikes,” he stated to the crowd. Chants of twenty-five and even higher floated throughout the auditorium.

As he approached once again, I pressed my palms against the smooth ebony.

The moment he issued the first crack of the strap, I rose onto my toes, exalted from the brutal sensations. The crowd roared in appreciation. Two more strikes smacked against my bottom. Both the heat and agony were powerful.

Three more and I was floating, my pussy throbbing as juice trickled down my inner thighs.

“So wet for me,” he stated so the audience could hear. He drove his fingers inside, pumping several times. When he pulled them free, he shoved them into my mouth. “Remember, you are all mine.”

I shuddered from the quiet suppression of electricity.

“Suck my fingers, little girl. Soon, you’ll have your lips wrapped around my cock.”

Another wave of excitement hit me.

Another moment of sheer joy.

Tonight was about letting go, embracing the sweet abyss of darkness that only he could provide.

My lover.

My master.

My owner.

Oh, my God.

I jerked upright in bed, taking several deep breaths while instantly pressing my fingers against my lips to keep from crying out.

My eyes darted around the darkened room catching shadows lurking in the corners.

A moment of fear rushed through me until my throat convulsed, making breathing impossible.

“Mine,” he whispered.

“What?” I muttered, immediately clutching the sheets. Was he here? No. I laughed and licked my lips, realizing they were swollen.

As if he’d been kissing me.

As if I’d been sucking his cock. My God. Wow.

A constant flow of tingles pulsed throughout my body as I blinked, struggling with the shadows still formed around my head. Focusing was impossible and the rapid hammering of my heart was driven by the beat of some unknown music.

An image formed in my mind. A face yet still unfocused.

Moaning, I shifted and was able to feel the intense throb between my legs.

The dream had been so real. The darkness was oppressive, the shimmer from the nightlight across the room creating ominous shadows. My pussy throbbed and I felt the wetness between my legs.

A tiny laugh surfaced and I blinked several times to try to focus, finally able to bypass the ugly shadows. A few seconds later, I tossed the covers, lowering my feet to the floor. I’d had several intimate dreams over the past few nights, but none so overtly sexual.

Exhaling, I calmed my nerves and moved toward my bedroom window. I had the feeling of being watched. After a few seconds, I pulled the blinds away, peeking outside onto the dimly lit street, the single overhead lamp providing little more than a dull yellow glow.

With sleep still in my eyes, I scanned what I could see of the other small houses and vehicles. It was the middle of the night, the neighborhood safe and quiet, no one inside.

Then I saw him, a man standing less than fifty yards away.

A man so tall and broad, he took my breath away.

Menacing in his silence and lack of movement.

And he was watching…