He changes his angle, hitting a spot inside me that makes me see stars. “Say it.”
“Mikhail!” His name tears from my throat as another orgasm builds, bigger than the first.
“That’s right.” He pounds into me harder, faster, chasing his own release. “Remember who’s making you feel this way. Remember who owns you now.”
The orgasm hits me like a freight train, and I scream his name again as pleasure explodes through every nerve ending. My bodyconvulses around him, milking him, and with a guttural groan, he follows me over the edge.
I feel him pulse inside me, feel the warmth of his release, and reality crashes back in. What have I done? What have we done?
Mikhail collapses on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his breath hot against my neck. For a moment, we just lie there, our hearts racing in tandem, our bodies still joined.
Then he moves, and I feel his lips against my throat.
Not a kiss, something more possessive.
His teeth graze my skin closer to my breast, then he bites down, marking me.
I gasp at the sharp pleasure–pain, and he does it again, higher on my neck where everyone will see.
“You’re mine now, littleadskiy kot,” he growls against my skin, his voice dark with satisfaction as he refers to me as a hellcat. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”
4
MIKHAIL
I wake to the scent of her hair on my pillow, and my first coherent thought is:What the hell have I done?
Sophia lies beside me, her black hair spilling across the gray sheets like ink on water.
In sleep, she looks younger than her twenty-two years, vulnerable in a way that makes something twist uncomfortably in my chest.
The morning light streaming through the windows catches on the marks I left on her neck, and instead of satisfaction I feel something dangerously close to regret.
I slip from the bed and pull on my pants, needing distance. Needing to think.
Last night was supposed to be about revenge.
About taking from her what her father took from Nicole.
But the memory of her body beneath mine, the way she responded to my touch despite her hatred, the sounds shemade when she came apart in my arms, none of that feels like vengeance.
It feels like something else entirely, something I can’t afford to name.
I move to the window and stare out at the grounds.
My reflection in the glass shows a man I barely recognize. When did the lines around my eyes deepen?
When did my jaw become so hard, my expression so cold?
Nicole would hardly know me now.
The brother who used to make her laugh, who promised to always protect her.
Behind me, I hear Sophia stir.
I don’t turn around, but I’m acutely aware of every sound she makes.
The rustle of sheets.
