The Professional(84)

“Belong?” I whispered. Such a loaded word.

“You belong against me”—he grazed his teeth down my neck—“around me. Connected to me.”

Connection. “Yes, yes.”

His fingers made a cage over my throat. “You belong to me.” His other hand dipped down to stroke my slickened clit, eliciting a gasp from me.

I spread my legs even wider, knowing he was about to make me mindless again.

“I told you that if I was your first lover, I’d be your last,” he said, his fingers making slow, slippery circles. “I told you that I’d kill any man who touched what was mine. Do you understand me?”

Though I could scarcely pull my thoughts together, reluctance stole through me. I understood he wanted to possess me. Darkly, brutally. But for how long? How totally?

Would there be anything left of me when a man like this had had his fill?

When I hesitated to answer him, he abruptly pulled out.

I was left cold, bereft. “What? Why?” Aching emptiness suffused me.

He positioned me back on his lap, his engorged shaft in front of my mons. It stood like an idol to be worshipped, making my mouth water and my h*ps rock. I couldn’t keep myself from grinding against the damp base.

“Grasp it.”

I did.

“Stroke it. Learn it. My c*ck is the only one you’ll ever need—or know.”

Enthralled, I put both hands on him, pulling, masturbating him in front of the mirror. “Oh, God, Sevastyan . . .”

“If you want it back, then beg me for it.”

As I squeezed it in my fists, words fell from my lips: “Please give me your cock.”

“Why?”

Why? Honestly . . . “Because I feel like I’ll die without it.”

“Then tell me who owns your exquisite little body.”

Owns. Owns. Yet right now, he did—controlling it absolutely. He lifted me once more, poising me atop his cock, wedging just the head inside. I moaned, wriggling on him as he withheld what I so desperately craved. Fine! “You own it.”

“Who owns you?” he demanded, upping the ante. Once again, he was pushing me, forcing me to submit ever more completely.

But fighting him seemed . . . unthinkable. Like resisting the inevitable. So I murmured, “You own me.”

“Good.” His eyes gleamed with triumph. Satisfied that I’d surrendered, he dug his heels into the floor and thrust upward into my wetness.

“Sevastyan!” I cried, but he didn’t slow, seemed to have reached the limits of his iron control.

His h*ps surged, pistoning between my legs. In the mirror, I could watch his gaze locked on my quivering br**sts. I could witness his thick, shining c*ck plowing into me, swallowed by my hungry pu**y. About to fill me with more of his semen.

My toes curled. I whimpered, tremors taking me over. Building, coiling, building, coiling—

Release.

My back bowed; I screamed helplessly as my body seized.

He tugged my hair to bare my neck, nipping me hard, snarling against my skin, “Ty svodish’ menya s uma!” You madden me!