Would she have felt like this if she’d gone home with him from the club? Probably. This was so far outside the range of her experience, even without the morally upsetting parts.
“Kiska, it is very early to be trying my patience. We made a deal. Take off your clothes. Now.”
His accent wrapped around her, making it hard to think straight. The way his voice caressed her felt more solid than the fabric against her skin.
“Where is your bravery from before? Did you run out?”
Maybe. She had been rather single minded before, determined to do whatever he wanted to get Jan home. She wished he’d pull out that cream again. As intense as it was, at least it would help push her over the edge of her fears and into his bed.
She screwed up the last bit of courage she had and pulled off the T-shirt and sweatpants.
“That’s better.”
She got into the bed. Anton took the glasses off and put them on top of his book on the bedside table. He touched the side of her cheek, and she felt herself melting into his warmth. There was relief in him touching her. It shut off the swirling thoughts inside her head.
Because when his hands were on her, there was no right or wrong. He wasn’t a criminal. She wasn’t a victim. Her sister hadn’t been in danger. Her life hadn’t changed. Everything was okay. Nothing mattered but the way this felt.
She closed her eyes and pretended it was the night before. She hadn’t had too much to drink. She’d gone home with him. She was in his bed—all according to plan. Her plan, not his.
He pulled her closer until his mouth covered hers in the warmest, most comforting kiss she’d ever been enveloped in. Everything about his body touching hers was right, no matter how much else was wrong.
She was probably crazy. She had to be crazy. Some undiagnosed issue that was only becoming obvious in captivity. But if this was crazy, fuck sanity.
Anton broke the kiss, and she opened her eyes suddenly to look into the most intense gaze she’d ever been subject to. “I’m going to fuck you without any bells or whistles or toys tonight. You don’t have to worry about anything I’m going to do. I will make you feel good. And it’s just us tonight. Okay?”
She nodded, still not able to call him what he wanted. She just needed a moment to catch her breath and… figure this out. Everything about all of this was so wrong, but if it was so wrong, why was her body responding like this? She’d never been this turned on in her life. And there was no arousal cream to blame this time. It was all that accent, those abs, that warm confident touch, the quiet power that had rolled off him from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him.
“Lie back, pet.”
He took something out of the dresser drawer. A blindfold. She couldn’t help the fear that swamped her.
“I’m not going to hurt you, kiska. I just want you to focus on how you feel and nothing else. Close your eyes. What can it hurt to just relax and see what happens?”
He was the devil. All smooth temptation. His voice silk and aged scotch. What else was she going to do? Annette sighed and leaned back against the pillows and shut her eyes.
When the blindfold was secure, he raised her arms over her head, and suddenly, he had more silk to tie her wrists to the headboard. Then his warm mouth was on her neck, raining kisses over her skin as it pebbled with goosebumps in response. He began to speak in a low, soothing voice in Russian.
The only word she understood was kiska when it came tripping out of his mouth every now and then, punctuated sharply by a litany of words and phrases she might never decode.
His hands were so warm as they stroked lightly over her skin. It was less massage this time and more a gentle petting sensation. Her breath caught in her throat when he began to rub between her legs, still speaking softly to her in Russian.
A part of her desperately wanted to know what he was saying, but another part of her was simply caught up in the magic of the sounds rolling off his tongue, this beautiful mystery that told her everything she needed to know just by his tone.
This must be what mating must have felt like for humans before language could come and complicate the dance. Just sounds that no one could decipher. Just the feelings, not the content.
He kissed a trail down her belly, and then his tongue was between her legs, slowly and carefully licking the tender sensitive flesh, the center of her pleasure, which the other two bumbling idiots hadn’t been able to find with a map and a flashlight. But Anton knew the map of her body as if he’d drawn it up himself. His expert tongue caused her hips to arch off the bed, pushing harder against his mouth. Neither of the men she’d previously been with had ever done this.
A whimper escaped her throat. It was answered with a chuckle and more Russian. She wondered if he even realized he wasn’t speaking English right now.
All of a sudden he released her wrists from their restraints. “I want you on your hands and knees.” These were the first words she’d understood in twenty minutes.
“Master, please...” She was so close. Would he just… leave her like this?
“Now,” he said.
She rushed to obey him. A moment later he thrust into her. When he filled her, it took her breath away. He began to move inside her with an aching slowness. His fingers trailed gently over her back and then dug hard into her hips as he increased his pace.
Annette was absolutely one hundred percent sure she was one of the many women who simply couldn’t come from intercourse alone. But then, no one had ever spent so much careful time getting her ready for him before Anton.
“Come,” he practically growled in her ear. “Do it right now like a good little slut.”
In a rational world, that would have shut her down. It should have been impossible. But the Russian was a drug, and the high rode her as much as she rode it until the pleasure he’d demanded from her came in a rush that felt like possession, ripping a scream from her throat.
Anton’s pleasure followed quickly behind hers, and then he pulled out of her, collapsed onto the bed, and pulled her body flush against his.
“Now, sleep.”
46
Anton pulled into the parking lot of Dome at ten o’clock. Since buying the isolated mansion, he’d reduced his days to just three a week and taken on more help. He’d turned part of the spa into an apartment when he bought the place. It had seemed a good use of resources at the time, but now it was even better. He didn’t have to pay rent on a separate apartment, and he had a place to sleep in case he didn’t want to make the commute back to the house.
But right now, the house was the only place he wanted to be. He still couldn’t believe this rare beauty was his. He’d awakened with her warm soft body pressed against his, and he’d hated leaving her. He hadn’t given her any rules yet—just that Gabe was in charge while he was away and to call him Sir. The title extended also to Brian and Lindsay. He would deal with figuring out how to train her when he got back.
Both Anton and Lindsay commuted into the city to work, and both the shrink and massage therapist were looking for candidates for the house.
The shrink would probably be the most successful at first since he’d been billing himself as a kink-friendly sex therapist for quite some time now. He already had potentials he was in the process of interviewing. If they passed his screening, he’d send them on to Anton. If they passed Anton’s, they would be brought to the house and trained. They could have as many as eight or nine girls within a month or two, which meant they needed to figure out the training protocol quickly.