The Master (The Game Maker #2)(41)

“Is gulag an option? Maybe the place where they kept * Riot? Sir, I’d like to be transferred to gulag, please.”

Ignoring that, he said, “Will you go against my command and touch yourself when I’m gone?”

Would I masturbate? As primed as I was from this morning’s cataclysmic oral sex, not to mention the belt all night? And then with nothing to do to distract me?

Hell yes.

There was that wicked gleam in his eyes. And there went my heart racing from the thrill. We both knew I’d get myself off, but he thought I was about to lie, to avoid the belt.

Though chastity had maddened me, I already kind of . . . craved it again. I craved the carnal excitement in his eyes when he’d locked me in—and when he’d freed me.

It might torment me, but I believed it would torment him too. I suspected the Russian would obsess all day about the woman he “owned,” about the lover he’d left trapped and yearning in chastity.

His first lover.

That leather lead would circle this powerful man’s neck—as if I’d placed a collar on him. The metal key would sear his chest.

With that in mind, I lifted my chin and said, “I plan to spend the day leisurely finger-f*cking myself.”

Máximo shockeado. His fists clenched, his nostrils flared, his eyes . . . delighted.

I’d just made the Russian a very happy man.


“You little witch!”

“You f*cking devil!”

When Sevastyan returned just two hours later, we collided in our haste to grapple each other, kissing, both of us snatching at his clothes.

Before he’d left, he’d added a short, fat dildo to the strap of my belt. It didn’t go deep enough to get me off, just far enough to make me crazed.

Against my lips, he bit out, “Couldn’t think of anything but this.”

“You didn’t warn me what that dildo would do to me!”

“Cut my bloody meetings short.” His accent was thicker than I’d ever heard it. He kicked his shoes off. When he yanked at his socks, I almost strangled him with his tie.

“I rolled on your bed in agony, trying to come from pinching my nipples.”

He groaned as he sucked my bottom lip. “I nearly jerked off in a bathroom stall.”

“I humped your pillow for a solid hour.”

“Fuck!” With his shirt over his head, he ordered, “Get my goddamned pants off!” I yanked them down his legs. When I saw the wet circle on his gray boxer briefs, I shivered, tugging them down too.

Naked, he grabbed the key and reached for my shaking body. Once he’d unlocked me, he eased the dildo from inside me, then tossed the belt to the bed. My fingers flew to my aching *; his did too. We met gazes, both stunned at how wet and swollen I was.

He raised a shaking hand to his mouth. As he licked his fingers, his cock pulsed, bobbing on its own, straining for my flared lips. Moisture slicked the head. I reached for him, rubbing it with my thumb.

“Witch.” His fingers returned for a second helping.

“Devil,” I gasped, panting for him.

“Tell me you don’t need to be owned.”

“As soon as you do. I wore your lock. But you wore my key, didn’t you? How many times today did you touch it?” I grabbed his dick, leading him to the bed, which clearly thrilled him.

But then his big hands covered my hips to lift me off the floor. He tossed me onto the mattress, as if I weighed nothing. Standing beside the bed, he grabbed my ankles, pulling me toward him till my ass was at the edge. “Spread for me.”

I drew my knees up, letting them fall wide. My hands dipped between my legs, my fingers parting my lips until cold air tickled me inside. “Is this where you want to be, querido?”

He shuddered with need, and his voice broke lower as he grated, “Your * is krasavitza. Beautiful. Tell me it’s all mine.”

I couldn’t catch my breath. “It’s all yours.” I moaned when he fitted his cockhead against my opening.

As the crown nudged, I undulated on the tip. I could come like this. In a few seconds, I would. I’d been tormented, driven mad for sex. His cock—searing and pulsating and ready to pleasure—was heaven compared to that dildo. “Don’t make me wait, Ruso!”

“Play with your tits for me. Pinch those plump nipples some more.”

I cupped my breasts, tweaking my tender nipples, arching to my own touch.

He made that growling sound that drove me wild. “Look at you.” His hooded gaze raked over me. “There is no such thing as your body.” He clamped his big hands around my ankles, raising my straight legs in a V. He ran his face against my calf, then kissed my inner ankle.

I moaned with wonder, had never known how sensitive the skin was there.

Then he bent his legs, as if he were about to lift something—or shove into me with more leverage than ever before.

I swallowed. “You’re going to f*ck me with all your might?” Anticipation made my toes curl.

“I am. And you’re going to take it.” His big body surged forward, ramming his cock into me to the hilt. “Uhhhn!”

I cried out, “Ah, Máxim!”

“Baby?” he groaned. “Already?”

As pleasure exploded inside me, my cry pitched to a scream. “Oh, my God!” My core-deep tremors clenched him.