Page 10 of Dark Embers (Vegas Bratva Kings #3)

CHAPTER 10

Sabrina

I should run.

That’s what my mind is screaming at me as Oleksi stands before me, larger than life, watching me with those impossibly blue eyes like he already owns my soul. My mind is tempted to engage in a physical altercation, citing numerous dangers, foolishness, and irresponsibility, yet my body is already on fire. I feel the pull of his voice in my bloodstream, the command in his gaze searing through every layer I thought could protect me.

“Do you trust me?” he asks again.

I catch my breath. I want to say yes. God, I want to trust him. But my stupid brain won't shut up long enough for the words to form.

“Can I try?” I whisper, hating the vulnerability in my voice.

His head tilts slightly, a faint smile on his lips. “It's all or nothing, Sabrina.”

The sound of my name in that voice does something to me. I feel it in my nipples, my clit, and the base of my spine.

“This is your last chance to leave,” he says, gesturing toward the door. “Walk away now, and we'll forget this happened. But if you stay... there’s no going back. You don’t have to submit all at once. That takes time. Training. But you submit completely to me!”

Oh, so now I’m a dog that needs training? I almost bite out the words, but they catch on my tongue, and instead, I bite my lip.

His gaze doesn't waver. “If you stay, I expect obedience. If you give me your submission, I will protect it. You won't regret it, I promise you.

Every inch of me aches for what he's offering. Possession. Devotion. Release. But that damn voice in my head is still trying to make sense of it.

“Can we just give it a try?” I ask, desperate to hold onto some sliver of control.

“No,” he says simply. “What will it be, Sabrina?”

I stare at him, swallowing hard. This is it, Sabrina. He’s given you a chance to walk away. Do it—do it now! But my fucking feet won’t. They seem to be firmly fixed in place. My brain is saying. I’m out of here; that’s my decision. However, as I prepare to tell him, it feels as though my tongue is under a spell.

“I want to stay.” The words tumble from my lips, startling me.

“And why do you want to stay?” Oleksi presses.

“Because...” My brain is whirling, but my body no longer responds to its commands—it has a new master now, and he’s staring at me with intense blue eyes. “I want you,” I murmur.

“I couldn’t hear you speak up!” Oleksi barks out the command.

Now that my brain has relinquished control, I allow my system to operate autonomously. “You. I want you, sir!”

His brow lifts. “And?”

There’s no going back or denying it now. “This,” I breathe. “I want this.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“I want this, sir,” I say louder. The word 'sir' scorches my lips.

His eyes darken, but he doesn't smile. “Drop your dress. Slide the straps from your shoulders and let it pool at your feet.”

My heart pounds so loud I can hear it in my ears. My clit pulses with heat as I slide the straps off my shoulders and let the silky black dress slither down my body to the floor. Goosebumps rise across my skin as I stand in nothing but black lace and heels.

“Beautiful,” Oleksi says.

And fuck me, that word—that one word—means more than it should. It strokes something deep and achy in me, fanning a sense of pride that Oleksi is pleased by what he sees.

“Go to the window,” he commands, “and bring me one of the gold curtain cords.”

I step out of the pool of silk, walk across the room, and pull the tie free from its hook. It coils like a serpent in my hand. My skin tingles with anticipation as I walk back to Oleksi.

He watches me, his expression unreadable.

“Offer it to me. Get on your knees and ask me to bind you with it.”

I hesitate for half a second. Then I drop to my knees, holding the cord out in both hands and bowing my head.

“Please, sir... would you bind me with this cord, if it pleases you?”

My voice shakes. My voice trembles, but not out of fear. With want.

Oleksi takes the cord from my hands, his fingers brushing mine. “Look at me.”

I lift my eyes.

“Do you trust me?” he asks again.

I hesitate, the last bit of doubt lingering.

“Forget who you are out there. Forget who I am out there.” He points to the door. “In here, it’s just us—master and submissive. You give me your trust, and I will never break it. I’ll never harm you. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you say the word and we stop.”

He crouches in front of me, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Pick your safe word.”

“Daffy,” I blurt. “It was my favorite cartoon as a kid.” I realize I just spoke out of turn. My eyes widen. “Sorry, I’ve spoken without permission, sir.” The apology slides off my tongue without a single hesitation, and a tiny part of me is disgusted. That part of me that still won’t switch off sends a faint rush of humiliation through me.

“Don’t do that.” His knowing eyes hold mine. “There is no humility here. There is no shame. Understand?”

Unable to trust my voice, I nod, and he smiles. It hits me like a bullet to the chest. It’s not cruel. It’s not smug. Just... pleased, and that gives me a feeling of such pride it overwhelms me— what the fuck? Am I this needy?

“Look at me, malenkaya.” Oleksi takes my chin and lifts it. “You are perfect, and what you are giving to me…” His eyes fill with emotion and burning desire. “It is the most special thing one person can give another, so never ever feel anything other than proud of who you are, because you, malenkaya, are fucking perfect.”

Emotion clogs my throat, and he leans forward to press a soft kiss on my lips.

“Daffy is our safe word,” he says softly before standing, and his demeanor changes to one of commanding control once again. “Now, hold out your wrists.”

I do as I’m told. The excitement sparks with the anticipation of what's to come, washing away the last fragments of doubt. Oleksi’s fingers are deft but gentle as he loops the cord around my wrists, tying them snugly but not tight. He tests it, then tugs gently, pulling me to my feet.

He leads me beside the bed. I stand, panting, blood rushing in my ears as he circles me, then stops by the nightstand. Opening the drawer, he pulls out a night mask and slips it over my head, covering my eyes. I try to quell the panic rising inside me. I don’t like to be blindfolded, but then I feel his fingers sliding into my panties and slipping between the folds of my pussy lips, and the darkness is forgotten as a groan escapes my lips.

“That’s right, malenkaya, relax. Let go. Trust me.”

His clever fingers rub, tap, and gently squeeze my clit while another finger slips inside me. “Oh…” I can’t stop the word from escaping as he starts to fuel my desire, teasing me with the promise of release. But just like he did before, he pulls his hand away, leaving me hanging, wanting, and panting for more.

He pushes me, and I fall onto the bed, only to feel something cold and hard slide against my skin. Oh God, it’s a knife. He’s going to kill me. But it slides beneath my bra strap and slices through it. Oleksi does the same to the other side. Fuck, this is my best bra. He could’ve asked me to remove it. But I don’t have time to ponder as he unhooks it from behind and pulls it clear.

I hear him suck in his breath as my breasts become naked, my nipples hardening from the cool air in the room. His hands cup them, weigh them, knead them, tweaking and pinching my nipples, sending me into a needy frenzy.

“Your nipples are sensitive, but you enjoy the slight sting of them being pinched, don’t you, malenkaya?” I feel the bed beside me dip with his weight as he leans across me, and I suck in a breath as his soft, wet tongue flicks, licks, then swirls around, first one, then the other nipple. “Your breasts fit perfectly into the palm of my hand, malenkaya. Like they were made for them.”

His words make my stomach clench again, and my heart swells with pride that he’s pleased with them. What the fuck, Sabrina! My mind screams at me. This is humiliating. You don’t need this man’s approval. Your body is perfect. That feeling of humiliation starts to wash over me again, but I squash it, and it fades once again when I feel Oleksi stand. The heat of his body disappears, leaving me feeling cold and alone.

“Lie down.” He orders, and I do because I really, really want… No, I need the reward he’s promising for my obedience.

As soon as I’m lying down, he secures my hands to the headboard, running his hands down my arms over my sides with his thumb brushing the sides of my breast. I try desperately to arch into him.

He chuckles. “Be patient, malenkaya. This is not a race.”

No. But I feel like I’m running a race. One with no end in sight, and I’m getting desperate for that end… for release, or I fear I will go mad with desire.

His hands slide down my body, dragging my panties with them until he pulls them off.

“Your pussy is hairless,” he observes, sitting next to my butt and strumming my soft mound with his fingers. “Spread your legs as wide as you can.”

I swallow. I’m glad I can’t see as the heat scorches my cheeks, but I can’t help myself—I obey Oleksi. I spread my legs, knowing with a deep shame that I want to show him my pussy. I want to expose myself to him. Give myself to him… Oh Jesus, I’m fucking doing this… I’m living out one of my secret fantasies.