Page 18 of Hunt Me

Mikhail muttered something in Russian I dared not ask him to repeat in English, fearful I couldn’t handle whatever he’d admitted. There were so many thoughts racing through my mind, so many questions, but I remained stiff and silent.

Yet my skin tingled once again as he slid his hand under my hair, wrapping his long figures around the back of my neck.

“You take my breath away,” he admitted as his heated breath cascaded across my lips. The jolt of current forced me towards him just as he captured my mouth.

I remained stiff at first, uncertain if I was supposed to react or move. Passion flared between us, so strong I could no longer feel my legs.

My mind was an utter chaos of thoughts as he swept his tongue inside. Even though he was clean shaven for the festive event, it didn’t prevent a slight prickling sensation from dark stubble I’d noticed at the bar. My thoughts drifted to wondering about other areas of his body. Would he even allow me to see his majestic form or deny me the privilege?

He dominated my tongue, taking his time exploring my mouth as my body began its slow descent of betrayal.

I was already submitting to him, a man I didn’t know and would likely never see again.

CHAPTER 4

Bristol

Still teetering on the edge of sanity, I rubbed my palms against Mikhail’s chest, wrapping my fingers around his shirt. I’d been right before.

He’d removed his suit jacket and tie, unbuttoning his tailored shirt and rolling the sleeves past his strong forearms.

I envisioned both covered with tattoos as dangerous men always wore as an extension of their power, providing a dangerous warning.

As soon as he broke the kiss, he nipped my bottom lip. “Obedience is vital.”

While I wasn’t certain whether he was explaining the lifestyle or reminding me I was required to be his good girl, I remained silent. The kiss had been nothing more than a tease much like fingering me before had been. He wanted me to be hot and ready, desperate to do anything he asked.

“Tell me what you feel,” he commanded as his voice deepened, lowering in volume as he stepped away.

At first, I felt nothing. Then softness. Something was being brushed across my chest. “A brush?”

“Think again. Use all your senses.”

There were no adequate words to describe the sensations, but a powerful scent filled my nostrils. “Leather.”

“Very good. Arms behind your head with your fingers clasped together.”

It suddenly dawned on me what he was holding, prepared to use on me. A leather strap of some kind, but with feathered ends. I was no virgin and obviously not ignorant of pleasures of the flesh or the mind thanks to my reading of pure smut, yet it took me a few seconds to realize what he planned on using.

A tawse. A leather implement used for discipline. My body jerked involuntarily and he was right there, crowding so close I gathered a whiff of the scotch he’d been drinking.

“Relax,ideal’nyy angel. You can still back out. If that’s what you’d prefer, I’ll walk out the door and you can stay the night in peace.”

My mind was blank at first, emotions struggling with the answer.

“Tell me,” he instructed.

“No, I want this.”

“You’re certain.”

“Yes.” I also nodded as if he needed consistent assurance. Maybe I was the one who did.

“Then we begin. Hands behind your head, fingers clasped together. Maintain your position.”

I did as he asked although my arms were shaking. Another chaotic moment of uncertainty crushed in on me. I managed to obey him, holding my fingers so tightly together the grasp was painful.

My dark and powerful lover brushed the leather edges across my breasts. My nipples were so over-sensitized I shook harder than I had before.