The Master (The Game Maker #2)(48)

Then, inside. I moaned, dazed by how good it felt.

He groaned, “So goddamn tight.”

I peered over my shoulder at Sevastyan’s face.

His blue eyes were transfixed on my ass, on his finger penetrating me. His expression was possessive, as if he gazed at something he was proud to own. “I’m going to be the first one to f*ck your beautiful ass.”

“N-now?”

“Not yet. You’ll anticipate it.”

“Devil!”

Another low laugh. With his other hand, he reached around me, his fingers roving over my *. “Ah, my Katya’s sweet, needy little clit.” He rubbed it as he began thrusting his cock, his thumb still wedged inside me.

I was overloaded with pleasure, couldn’t decide if I wanted to shove my ass back at him or rock my hips to his sinful fingers. “So . . . good . . . so good.”

“I’m going to own every part of you,” he rasped. “Your eyes, your lips, every inch of your body. Your complicated, too-clever mind. Your * is already mine—even you’ll admit that.” He thrust his thumb harder, wrenching a cry from me. “Soon I’ll claim your tight little virgin ass.” He pistoned his hips, our skin slapping.

I couldn’t think. Shutdown.

“I’m going to work my cock inside you here, and when I pump my cum in you, I’ll own this ass.”

I pushed back on him, answering him with insensible sounds. Too much stimulation.

“There you go. . . . I feel your * tightening up on me, about to release. I make you feel this way—no other man—because you belong only to me. You’re going to scream my name, aren’t you, Katya?” He thrust his cock and thumb at the same time.

“Oh, my God!”

“When pleasure makes you mindless, you think of only one name. Mine.” His words tipped me over the edge.

I screamed, “Máxim!”

His fingers moved even faster, sending me into a frenzy, the waves of my climax overwhelming me. I clutched the bar for dear life, writhing, gyrating my hips.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Take your pleasure from me.”

I did. Over and over.

My cries slowly dwindled. Once I was hanging limply, my body a quivering mass, he withdrew his finger to grip my hips.

Holding me in place, he stretched over my back and shoved hard inside my *. In a hoarse voice, he said, “I could f*ck you forever, beautiful girl. I want you to come on me again.” As he brutally surged into me, his balls slapped my clit. He railed me with all his might, going deeper with each thrust. I could only hold on for the ride.

He opened his mouth over my shoulder, almost biting me, like an animal. The touch of his teeth to my flesh—

My scream ripped through the enclosure. His cock was so swollen, my spasms could barely squeeze around it.

He snarled against me, driving harder. He released my shoulder to bellow, “Taking it from me! AHH!” He roared to the ceiling as he began to ejaculate, his fingers digging into my skin. His shaft, his legs, and his hips rammed into my body.

One savage shove. Another. And another.

Until a satisfied groan sounded from his chest.

Gradually, his shudders eased, but he remained inside me, as if reluctant to leave. He coiled an arm around my waist. “Let go, dushen’ka.” With difficulty, I made my fingers release the bar, and he pulled me up against him.

His breaths tickled my damp neck. His heart thundered against my back. One of his hands lightly covered my throat. He filled his other palm with a breast.

He was content to rest like this—as if being with me were the most natural thing in the world.

As if I were his long-term lover, his girlfriend. When he nuzzled my neck and pressed kisses to my shoulder, I found myself wishing I could be.


His phone rang yet again as I dried off and donned my new silk robe.

“My brothers.” He sighed, wrapping a towel around his waist. “I hope you’re happy. Mobsters gossip worse than old women.”

“I always heard that old women gossiped worse than mobsters.” In front of the mirror, I combed out my hair, trying to act casual about what he’d done to me. He’d told me he owned me. For that space of time, he had. Máxim continued to give me fantasies—ones I hadn’t even known were mine. “What will you tell your brothers about me?” I met his gaze in the reflection.

“That I’ve purchased a young Miami woman, enslaving her in my penthouse.”

Ha. “And what will they have to say about that?”

“My older brother won’t believe me. My younger will see absolutely nothing wrong with this—as long as I don’t get attached.” Dmitri. The one who brought him daily bouts of grief.

“While it’s all fun and games to brag that you’ve purchased a woman, surely you’re done with me by now. You did say you would shake this.”

As if I hadn’t spoken, Sevastyan left the bathroom, returning shortly after. “Before I forget . . .” He held up the chastity belt, modified once more.

I gasped. This time there were two plugs.





CHAPTER 22




Sevastyan was setting me up for a crash landing. And I resented it.

As I changed into my new running gear, I recalled awakening this morning—cocooned by his warmth, his arms like a shield around me.