Page 34 of Bound in Possession

"You know, princess... in my world, people are put in the ground for far less. You should be punished for this."

"Punished?" I fire back, taking a defiant step closer to him, my anger overriding the panic. "Go ahead and try it, Maksim! You lock me in this house, you hide information that directly affects my survival, and then you expect me to sit politely in the lounge picking out lace samples while a psychopath drops bloody tokens at your front gates? I have a right to know what is happening!"

Instead of blowing up, Maksim takes a slow, predatory step forward. The sheer size of him suddenly commands the space between us, the scent of his cologne filling my senses.

"I know exactly why you were here," he says, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a frustration that feels entirely too intimate. "And it makes me fucking mad that you don't trust me to handle it. It makes me mad that after everything I've said, you still think I'd let a single hair on your head be harmed."

He stops just inches away from me. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, turning the air between us heavy, charged, electric.

"But," he whispers, his eyes dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto mine, "I also understand your curiosity. You're a Caruso. You're used to looking for the blade in the dark."

"This isn't about my family background, and it's not just curiosity!" I argue, my chest heaving against the tight fabric of my dress, practically brushing against his chest with every breath I take.

His proximity is dizzying, a dangerous pull sparking between us. "It's about my life! You can't just keep me in the dark and expect me to bow my head and trust a man who leaves me half-undone in a bathroom and then treats me like a stranger on the ride home!"

Maksim's jaw clenches, his eyes darkening as the argument shifts from Viktor to the raw, unfinished tension that has been simmering between us since last night. He steps even closer, completely trapping me between his towering frame and the heavy mahogany desk behind me.

"Is that what this is about, Camilla?" he asks, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly hum that feels entirely too close to my skin. "You're tearing my office apart because you're still furious about what happened against that vanity? Because I left you wanting?"

I let out a sharp, mocking snort, forcing a cold laugh to hide the sudden, treacherous spike in my pulse. "Go to hell, Maksim. You flatter yourself if you think you have that much control over me."

Pushing my hands against his solid chest, I try to brush past him, desperate to escape the suffocating heat radiating between us. But I don't even make it a foot.

His hand shoots out, his fingers locking around my wrist like a velvet-lined handcuff, and pulls me right back into his space. "You're not going anywhere," he growls.

"Let go of me!" I hiss, twisting my arm, my heels sliding against the Persian rug as I struggle against his iron grip.

I bring my free hand up to shove his shoulder, but he merely traps that one too, pinning both of my wrists against his chest. I am completely flush against him now, the hard lines of his body anchoring me to the spot.

"Stop fighting me," he whispers, leaning down. His breath is hot, a stark contrast to the icy New York chill outside the windows. "I told you, princess. Actions have consequences. I'm not letting you leave this room until you are punished for breaking my rules."

The friction of our bodies, the memory of his touch from last night, and the sheer adrenaline of the fight coalesce into a reckless, burning fire in my veins. I stop pulling, tilting my chin up to stare directly into his eyes with pure, unadulterated defiance.

"Punish me then," I dare him, my chest heaving against his. "Go on, Maksim. Do your worst."

The tension in the room snaps, replaced by a sudden, predatory focus in his gaze. For a long, suffocating moment, Maksim just watches me, tracking the fierce defiance etched into my face, his chest rising and falling in heavy, ragged rhythm with mine.

Then, he moves.

With a brutal fluidity, he pivots and forces me back against the edge of the massive mahogany desk. Before I can even gasp, his large hands grip the hem of my gown, yanking the fabric up to my waist in one smooth motion.

"What are you doing?" I gasp, my hands instinctively reaching back to push at his chest, my heart hammering against my ribs in a frantic mix of panic and overwhelming heat.

"Shut up," he growls, his voice a dark, command-filled rumble.

He grabs my wrists, forcing my hands down until my palms are pressed flat against the polished wood of the desk. "Hold the desk, Camilla. Grip the edge. If at any moment you let go, I swear to God I will start the punishment completely over again."

A helpless whimper slips from my throat as he moves behind me. The cool air of the office hits my skin as his fingers hook into the waistband of my lace panties, dragging them down my legs and completely exposing my bare ass to the room. I grip the edge of the mahogany desk so tightly my knuckles turn translucent, the reality of my vulnerability crashing over me.

Maksim pauses. I feel the heavy, searing warmth of his palm as he smooths his hand slowly over the wide expanse of my exposed skin, his touch possessive and entirely too grounding.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick and rough as his hand traces the curve of my hip. "Absolutely stunning, princess."

"Go to hell, Maksim," I bite out through clenched teeth, burying my face against my shoulder as the anticipation turns my muscles into tight coils.

The first strike lands with a sharp, echoing crack.

A cry of pure shock and stinging heat bursts from my lips, my hips instinctively jerking forward against the desk. The pain is instant, a blooming fire that radiates across my skin, followed immediately by a heavy, dizzying rush of adrenaline that floods my veins.