Page 39 of Owning Him
The elevator dings, the doors opening straight into the foyer. I turn on my heel, walking slowly toward my bedroom, knowing damn well he’s following me.
"You want to test me? You want to see how much of a monster I can be?" he barks behind me.
"Show me," I breathe, my knees going weak.
He stalks over to my nightstand, grabbing my vibrator, and then forcing me down onto my hands and knees. "Call me Daddy. Say it right now."
Daddy.
Nothing has ever sounded so right.
"Daddy," I whimper, my face burying into the pillows. It's exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed to hear.
"I would love to taste you right now," he whispers against the shell of my ear. "I want to bury my face between your legs. But that would make me lose my mind. I won't break my vow to you."
That stupid fucking vow.
He brings the humming toy down against my clit. But before I can even ride the wave of pleasure, he drags the vibration lower. Lower. And lower. To my asshole.
"Viktor, no... I don't like the backdoor played with," I cry out, trying to pull away from the invasive heat.
"Oh, poor baby," he mock-sympathizes, refusing to let me move an inch. "Too bad. I'll teach you to like it."
He presses the vibrating tip harder against my tight rim while his other hand works my clit, sending a maddening sensation straight to my brain. It’s entirely too much. I'm weeping against the pillows.
God, how can so much pleasure feel almost painful?
"Now say it," he growls, pinning me to the mattress as the pleasure peaks into pure agony. "Tell me what you're done with."
"No... no more fuck buddies," I sob out.
"What else?" he demands, increasing the pressure of the vibration.
"No more other men! Only you!" I shriek, my entire body violently convulsing as a shattering orgasm rips through me.
Only then does the vibrator turn off.
Viktor pulls me back against his chest. He pulls the duvet over us, cradling me against his broad chest as his large, warm hand gently strokes my hair. He wipes a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb, pressing soft kisses to my forehead and temples.
I am so deep in this. Deeper than I ever thought possible. I am so entirely consumed by him that I feel like I would genuinely die without him.
I hope I never have to face that fact.
Chapter Twenty-three
Viktor
Ilean against the glass, a paper cup of black coffee in my hands. From here, I can see straight into the glass-walled conference room where Valentina is holding one of her many meetings.
Every time one of those bastards across the table leans in a little too close to speak to her, my back turns into stone. I’m ready to pounce whenever she needs me.
"Drink your coffee, man. You're gonna burn a hole through the glass."
Marcus is sitting at the small bistro table, scrolling his tablet. We sort of built a weird brotherhood. He had a rough life of his own, just like me. When Valentina first started letting me take the lead on her details, a lot of the older guys talked behind my back. I had to earn every ounce of respect. But Marcus never looked down on me once. He respected me from day one, man to man.
"Just keeping eyes on the room," I grumble.
"Right. The room." Marcus taps his fingers against his cup. "Hey. Let me ask you something. You ever think about what's next? Like, five years down the line?"
