Throne of Power (Throne Duet #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,44

around Kyle’s neck as I let the orgasm hit me. While the stimulation is mostly between my legs, my whole body clenches and I shake uncontrollably in Kyle’s hold.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Show me that abandonment face. Your real freedom.”

I lift my head to stare at his expression because, for some reason, it feels like he’s shed his mask.

Katia and Ruslan’s silhouettes in front of my room put a halt to my curiosity. They rush toward us—or me, to be more specific.

I hide my face in Kyle’s shirt so they don’t witness me like this. They will see me as weak, and weak people don’t survive in the Vory.

“Rai feels a bit unwell. I will put her to bed,” Kyle offers on my behalf, and I’m so thankful for it, even if he’s the reason I’m like this in the first place.

“Should we take her to the hospital?” Katia asks.

“I’ll bring the car.” Ruslan starts to leave.

“There’s no need.” Kyle motions at them. “You should go downstairs. She will call if she needs you.”

They appear hesitant, but after a small nod from me, they comply and head to the stairs.

He pushes the door to my room open, and I take a peek to make sure no one is inside. Sure enough, it’s empty.

My bedroom is simple. There’s a queen-sized bed, a console, and two doors aligned symmetrically. One leads to the bathroom, the other to my walk-in closet.

The balcony’s door is closed, as always. Dedushka taught me to be wary of snipers since I was little. That’s why every window in this house is made of bulletproof glass. It cost a fortune to set up, but when you live a dangerous life like ours, nothing can be taken for granted.

Dedushka shouldn’t have brought this killer who’s carrying me in his arms after he taught me to be cautious of them. It shouldn’t work that way.

Kyle places me on my feet to lock the door. I push away from him and brace myself against the wall for balance because, even now, the thing is still vibrating inside me, demanding more orgasms.

Holding on to the wall with a sweaty, trembling hand, I reach under my dress and close my eyes in mortification when the evidence of my arousal soaks my fingers.

“Stop.”

The commanding word makes me pause, my eyes slowly fluttering open. I’ve never been one to bow down in front of authority, but the way Kyle uses it always stabs me in a secret part that confuses the hell out of me.

Kyle isn’t hyper-authoritative like the men downstairs whom I’ve spent all my life with. I’m used to male reign and stopped being intimidated by it at a young age.

However, Kyle appears tame, approachable even, almost like he should be a doctor or some hot CEO instead of being in this line of work. While I know it’s a deceptive façade, he’s perfected it so well that when he shows his masculine, authoritative side, I have no choice but to stop and stare.

“If you remove it, our deal is null and void.” He tips his chin in my direction. “The ball is in your court.”

“You expect me to walk around with this thing inside me all day?” I hate how much my voice is trembling and how needy and out of control I sound.

“It should loosen you up a little, bring you down from your ivory tower.”

“Kyle…” I meant to warn, but his name comes out like a whimper instead.

“We had a deal: you wear my toys, I get the Irish where you want. Are you going back on your world, Miss Sokolov?”

I hate when he calls me that. It feels so distant and strange after all the time we’ve known each other and everything we’ve been through. But who am I kidding? That time only meant something to me in the past. Now, it’s nothing.

“At least make it stop,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Say the word that will get you things from me.”

“What word?”

“Beg me. Beg this filthy stray dog to relieve you of your misery.”

“I’m Rai Sokolov. I beg no one.”

“You did it in front of Vladimir. You can do it again. Don’t worry, it will become a habit with time.”

“I’m not going to beg you—ahhhh…” My words end on a moan when he increases the intensity of the vibrator until its sound can be heard. “Stop…ahhh…”

“I still have five more intensity levels to go, one for every minute you remain stubborn.” He removes his hand from his pocket, revealing