And then his hands landed on my hips.
“Katerina,” he said, voice low enough to vibrate through my bones, “you tell me one more time that my brother had his hands on you instead of you begging for it from me, and I swear?—”
“Oh?” I tipped my head, pretending to think. “Does that bother you? Does it make you want to punish me more?”
His grip tightened.
“It should bother you,” I continued. “You Dragunovs have this ridiculous protective streak, but you’re selective about who gets to claim what. About who gets to claim me…”
His jaw flexed hard enough I could feel the tension radiating from it.
“You want me angry,” he said slowly, realization dawning. “That’s what this is. You want me—” He swallowed hard. “You want the raging bull. You want me to take control and give you exactly what you need.”
“Finally,” I said, smiling. “You’re catching up.”
He let out a rough laugh, breath shaking.
“Get that tight little ass in the bedroom. It’s time I took off my belt.”
Shit.
I might have bitten off more than I can chew.
“Your belt?” I said tentatively, not moving right away.“Andrei, that seems a bit overzealous?—”
He didn’t wait for me to finish.
His hand shot out, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck, and he yanked. It wasn’t a playful tug, but a hard, unforgiving pull that sent a jolt of pure fire straight to my core, stinging my scalp and forcing me to arch my back in a way that was painfully promising.
“Ah!” I gasped, my hands flying up to grab his wrist.
“Did you think this was a negotiation, Katerina?” His voice was a dark, dangerous rumble. “Did you think you could poke the bear and not get mauled?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He kept his grip on my hair, using it like a leash, and started walking. I had no choice but to follow, stumbling after him, the sting in my scalp a constant, painful reminder of his aroused fury. He didn’t look back. He just led me, a predator claiming his prize, from the bright, impersonal light of the main room into the shadowed space of the bedroom.
The room was dark. He didn’t turn on the lights. He just stopped beside the bedand waited. Hestill had a fistful of my hair, and the angle was starting to make my neck ache.
“Bend over the bed,” he commanded.
“Andrei—”
“Now,” he bit out, pushing me forward.
My hands shot out, catching myself on the quilted bedspread. He forced me down, his grip on my hair pushing my face into the soft quilted fabric and leaving my ass high in the air. The vulnerability of the position was like a bucket of ice water for a second, but it was quickly overshadowed by a hot, liquid surge of desire.
Fuck.
This was serious.
I had just wanted a few smacks on the ass, and maybe a really hard fucking, but I was about to get a whole lot more than I had bargained for.
His hand tightened in my hair. I heard the metallic rasp of a belt buckle being undone, then the slither of leather being pulled through the denim loops of his jeans. The sound was terrifying, and my entire body tensed in anticipation. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I couldn’t get it to calm down.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
His hands were on me then, rough and impatient. He grabbed the waistband of my pants, and with one savage yank, he dragged them down to my knees. The cool air hit my exposed skin, and I shivered. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties.
“These,” he growled, “are in my way.”
