Alexei looks like he wants to argue, but something in his brother’s tone makes him think better of it. He heads for the door, pausing to give me a look that promises we’ll continue this conversation later.
Dmitri’s gaze darkens the moment the door clicks shut.
“Enjoying yourself?”
The words snap through the silence, sharp as a blade.
He’s on me before I can respond, bracing one hand on the desk and caging me in. His other hand skims down my arm, lightly enough to make me shiver.
“You saw the files.” His voice is low and steady. “The names. The bodies. Did it scare you? Or did it turn you on, knowing how dangerous I am?”
“Stop,” I whisper, but my body betrays me.
His mouth crashes against mine—rough, claiming, and nothing polite about it.
My gasp gives him the opening he wants. His tongue sweeps in, dominating, owning me the same way he owns everything else.
I shove against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he captures my wrists in one hand and presses them above my head, pinning me against the desk like I weigh nothing.
“You shouldn’t have broken into my files,” he growls softly, lips brushing mine. “You should be terrified of me right now.”
“I am,” I breathe, though the heat pooling between my thighs tells a different story.
“No.” His mouth grazes my jaw. “You’re trembling because you want me.”
His hand slips under my skirt, dragging the fabric higher until I’m bare beneath him. My breath hitches, and his smile curves dark and knowing.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” I rasp. “Dmitri—yes.”
He chuckles darkly. “That’s it. You sound perfect when you beg for me.”
His fingers stroke where I’m already wet. “You feel this? You can tell yourself you’re afraid of me, kotyonok, but your body remembers the truth.”
Heat floods my face as my hips arch toward his touch, greedy despite my denial.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, voice rougher now. His fingers plunge inside me, curling until stars explode behind my eyes.
A cry rips from my throat, and his smirk drags across my skin.
His zipper opens with a vicious sound, the rasp loud in the silence. He fists the back of my thigh and drags me to the edge of the desk, the blunt head of his cock pressing against me, thick and unyielding.
He pauses there, grinding just enough to make me whimper, holding me open like I belong to him.
“Say the word, kotyonok. Because once I’m inside you, I’ll never let you go.”
“Please, Dmitri.”
Then, with one brutal thrust, he slams into me, splitting me wide. I scream into his chest as he fills me to the hilt.
“God, you were made for me,” he rasps, thrusting deep and steady. “Every part of you belongs to me.”
The desk rattles beneath us, papers scattering, my wrists still trapped above my head. Each thrust is a claim, but it’s not just a punishment.
It’s an affirmation.
“Say it again,” he demands, his rhythm punishing but precise. “Say my name.”
