Page 7 of Princess Claimed

“Take off your dress,” Timur says, his voice hoarse. “I want to view your soft shape.”

A tremor runs through me, but I do as he asks. Leaving my eyes closed, I try to imagine it’s Crusher who made this demand. Crusher likes to issue orders, even if he pretends that he doesn’t.

Fully naked, I lie back again and position my throat for him.

“It’s like a miracle,” Timur says. “You’ve not changed at all.”

Such a strange thing to say after less than two weeks. I close my eyes again, trying to cast my mind back into Freetown, imagining it’s Crusher who’s about to take my vein. That it’s not Timur, but Crusher whose powerful, commanding presence lurks next to this bed. Crusher whose rough hands are exploring my body like he owns me. Crusher who just pushed my arms above my head.

“Relax, my little princess,” he says. “This will go easier if you relax.”

His voice spoils my illusion.

I try to move my arms, but he’s tied them down. Tugging at the restraints, I kick my legs.

“Don’t you trust me?” he asks. “We are such old friends.”

I stop fighting. This is Timur. I do trust him. I squeeze my eyes shut again, hoping to get back into my fantasy. Crusher might well want to tie me up. But I don’t think he’d do it without asking.

His hands fall onto my legs, and then restraints tighten around my ankles too. I feel trapped.

“Timur. I don’t like this.” I tug against the bindings. If I need to, I can break the bed.

“Fight if you want,” he says. “This will be more fun for me if you fight.”

I know that voice.

My eyes snap open.

“Rasputin!” His familiar, hideous face, the face that haunted my childhood and then my nightmares is right above me.

A sharp pinch hits my throat and the world fades to black.

Chapter

Five

Rasputin

Panting, ravenous, I devour my Anastasia’s body with my hands and my eyes, drinking her in. Her porcelain skin feels the same as it always did, soft as the finest velvet, but it’s even more beautiful in her new preternatural form. She’s glowing, and I can sense the power housed in her body. Her body is humming with energy, and it makes me want her even more. Makes me want to bend her new strength to my will.

The times I spent punishing Ana are my very best memories of my time at the Czar’s court, slapping her little round ass with the back of the hairbrush, or even better, using my palm while the brush’s handle was lodged inside her.

I pause, needing to breathe more calmly. I long to climb on top of her this instant, but I also don’t want this to be over too fast. A fast fuck won’t satisfy either me or the demon.

Anastasia still has the body of a girl of seventeen but has undoubtedly transformed. It will be harder to break her. But break her I will.

Since the day I met her, I’ve yearned to tame Ana. To bend her will so that she lives to serve my pleasure. To train her to accept whatever depravity I inflicted upon her, to comply with my every request.

Desire burns inside me. Perhaps I should fuck her while she’s unconscious, experience her lush body, before I do the demon’s deed. I wish I knew exactly how long the silver concoction I injected into her neck will last.

What a thrill it would be to witness her reaction if she wakes while my cock is drilling her. So many times I imagined doing just that as I watched her sleep.

More memories flood through me. Memories of watching my Anastasia sleep. Of touching her and seeing her sigh in response as she slumbered. Of slowly sliding my finger between her folds until she awoke, and then convincing her that it was all just a dream as I soothed her back to sleep.

I showed such restraint back then but can no longer wait. I must be inside her. Now. Releasing my cock, I climb onto the mattress.

Do not disobey me! The demon’s voice twists in my mind.

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