Her fingers moved desperately over her clit, her other hand squeezing her breast, and she came with a broken cry, her body shuddering.
Dimitri groaned, his strokes becoming erratic, and then he was coming too….hot ropes of cum painting her breasts, her stomach, marking her.
Claiming her.
When he finished, he looked at her….covered in his cum, flushed and trembling and absolutely wrecked….and felt a savage satisfaction unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, using his fingers to spread his cum across her skin.
“You look perfect like this.
Marked.
Mine.” “Please,” she whispered, her voice broken.
“Please, Dimitri.
I need you.” “I know.” He cupped her face, forced her to look at him.
“But not yet.
Not until I know your body can’t function without mine.
Not until you’re so addicted to my touch that the thought of anyone else makes you physically sick.
Not until you’re completely, utterly, irrevocably mine.” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
“How long?” “As long as it takes.” He kissed her forehead, surprisingly tender given the brutality of what he’d just done.
“Days.
Weeks.
However long it takes for you to break completely and rebuild as mine.” “That’s cruel.” “I know.” He smiled, that wicked, devastating smile.
“But you signed the contract, cara mia.
Your body belongs to me.
Which means your pleasure….and your denial…..are mine to control.” He stood, grabbed a towel from the bathroom, came back and cleaned her with surprising gentleness.
“Rest,” he said, pulling her down to lie against his chest.
“You’ve earned it.” “I can’t rest.
I’m too…..” “Worked up?
Desperate?
Aching?” His hand stroked her hair.
“I know.
That’s the point.
You’re going to stay like this.
Constantly on edge.
Constantly needing.
Until your body knows….deep in your bones….that only I can satisfy you.” “I hate you,” she whispered against his chest.
“No, you don’t.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“But you will before I’m done.
You’ll hate me and need me and crave me and curse me all at once.
And it will be the most addictive feeling you’ve ever experienced.” He was right.
God help her, he was absolutely right.
Because even now, exhausted and oversensitive and aching, she wanted more.
Wanted him.
Wanted that final connection he was denying her.
And she had a horrible, devastating feeling that he’d gotten exactly what he wanted: Her, desperate and willing and completely under his control.
“Sleep, Eve,” he murmured, his voice soft but commanding.
“When you wake up, we’ll start round two.
And this time, I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own name.” She should hate him.
Should curse him.
Should use that unlocked elevator and run as far and fast as she could.
But instead, she pressed closer to his warmth, let her eyes drift closed, and surrendered to the exhaustion.
To him.
To the six months of beautiful torment he’d promised her.
And somewhere in the darkness before sleep claimed her, she heard him whisper: “Mine.
Finally, irrevocably mine.” **** POV: DIMITRI Dimitri held Eve as she slept, her body warm and soft against his, and allowed himself a moment of pure, savage satisfaction.
Seven years.
Seven fucking years he’d waited.
And now she was here.
In his bed.
Marked with his cum.
Desperate for his cock.
Completely under his control.
Mike was going to lose his goddamn mind when he found out.
But by then, it would be too late.
Eve would be so thoroughly his that the idea of leaving would be laughable.
He’d make sure of it.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand.
He reached for it carefully, not wanting to wake her.
MARCO: Ward signed the papers.
Divorce will be final in 30 days.
He’s been transported.
DIMITRI: Transported where?
MARCO: Where you instructed.
He won’t be a problem anymore.
Good.
Simon Ward was being handled.
Soon, he’d be nothing but a bad memory Eve could forget.
Another text came through, this one from an unknown number.
UNKNOWN: Heard you have a new pet, Devil.
Pretty thing.
Shame if something happened to her.
Dimitri’s blood ran cold, then hot with rage.
Someone knew about Eve.
Someone was already threatening her.
He looked down at the woman sleeping trustingly in his arms….this beautiful, strong, stubborn woman who’d stolen his sanity seven years ago and was only now paying the price for it…and felt something dark and possessive coil in his chest.
Let them try.
Let them fucking try to take what was his.
He’d paint this city red with their blood before he let anyone touch her.
He deleted the message, blocked the number, and made a mental note to have Marco increase her security detail.
Eve stirred against him, murmuring something in her sleep that sounded like his name.
“I’ve got you, cara mia,” he whispered, his arms tightening around her.
“No one’s going to hurt you.
I promise.” It was a promise he intended to keep.
Even if it meant becoming the monster everyone already believed him to be.
Especially then.