Her blush deepens. “I thought those were dreams.”
“They weren’t.”
She slumps her shoulders, looking defeated. “Now that you know how much I’m like my mother, how much I crave sex, what are you planning to do?”
“I’m planning to give you what you need,” I say, moving to sit on her bed. I pat my lap. “Come here.”
She hesitates for a moment before stepping closer. The air between us is charged, electric. She sits on my lap, her body tense.
“I’m not used to being so vulnerable with anyone,” she says softly. “It feels…weird. You’re my bully. You threatened me into being your fake girlfriend. I mean, how fucked up is that?”
“Life is fucked up, babygirl,” I murmur, rubbing her bare knee. Her skin is soft, warm, and I like the way she feels under my touch. This is the first time I’ve touched her while she’s awake, the first time she’s let me. “Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy what we have.”
“I want to run away,” she admits, resting her head on the crook of my shoulder, her voice barely a whisper. “This is so humiliating.”
I let her hide her face from me, let her nuzzle against my neck as she confronts her need for closeness and intimacy.
I keep rubbing her knee, my touch gentle. I can’t help myself when I see her nipples furling into bigger, harder buds. The urge to touch brings me to the verge of insanity. I move my hands up, cupping her generous breasts, teasing her aroused buds with my thumb, pinching them just to hear her whimper in my ear.
“Dmitry…” Her voice is breathy, laced with dark craving. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want to. Because you make me want to.”
I soothe the sting with soft strokes of my thumb over her aching breasts. She lets me do it all, never protesting. It’s like shehas given up acting like she’s better them me, like she doesn’t want this.
She’s showing me her real self and that feels like holding the greatest treasure.
“If I try to run away now, will you catch me?” Her question comes out of the blue.
“Do you want me to?”
Her head jerks. Her eyes widen, meeting mine. I notice the lust in them, the need, the desire that she’s too scared to speak out loud. Her cheeks are flushed. Fuck, she’s aroused. She liked being held down. She likes it rough. And maybe, she likes being hunted, too.
I brush my finger over her lips, dragging them back and forth over her soft, plump mouth, waiting for her to pull away.
But she doesn’t. She leans in closer, her eyes wider, tears glistening on her dark, wet lashes. She looks like a doll, like an angel who wants to be tainted by the devil.
“I will catch you.” I lick the side of her throat. “And when I do, I’ll make you wish you had run sooner.”
SEVEN
Callista
His words punchme in the gut, triggering a primal response. I'm scared by his proclamation, by the dark promise in his eyes. I shoot off his lap and run, trying to get to the door, but even as my heart hammers in my chest, I know he won’t let me escape. Because he's strong, and he's probably the only person I trust to catch me.
My body is a riot of sensations—arousal, panic, danger—all mixed into a cocktail that sets my nerves on fire. I feel a deep, psychological need for someone to reach out, grab me, and hold me, even as I try to leave. It’s a fucked-up desire, but it’s real, and it’s coursing through my veins like wildfire.
I hear him growl, a low, animalistic sound that makes heat pool in my stomach. “Callista, stop.” His voice is a command, a demand that sends a shiver down my spine. He’s so masculine, like a beast, and I’m both scared and curious to find out how he will devour me once he catches me.
I’m almost at the door when I feel his strong hand grip my ass, pulling me back. I yelp, trying to wriggle free, but he’s toostrong. He gets behind me, blocking my access to the door. I move out of his grip, darting towards my closet. I try to hide inside, but he doesn’t let me close the door. The sound of wood splintering fills the air as he nearly breaks the door with his strength.
“Dmitry, please—” I whimper, but he cuts me off with a harsh grip on my face.
“You’re not going anywhere, darling. You’re trapped with me now.” His fingers bite into my jaw, digging deep. A dull ache buzzes through my skull. It only adds fuel to the fire that’s ravaging my cunt. His touch is brutal. Possessive. My core is clenching so bad. I need him to push me harder, to be rougher, to overwhelm me completely until I have no choice but to surrender. I want him to use me, to prey on me, so I can let myself go, so I can tell myself I had no other choice but to let him take me.
“No.” I thrash, but he shoves my shoulders back, pushing his head into the closet. He kisses me, biting my bottom lip, making it hurt.
“Listen to me like a good girl,” he says. “Stop fighting this. You love when somebody controls you, tells you what to do. Isn’t that right?”
