Page 74 of Stolen Empire
He’s not safe.
He’s a storm that could drown me.
But that’s the rush—the danger sharpens everything, makes every touch electric.
I hate how he controls me, owns my secrets, but fuck, it turns me on, the way he looks at me like I’m his prize, his obsession.
Dimitri breaks the kiss, his lips trailing fire down my neck, teeth grazing my collarbone.
“You want this, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice a rumble that sends shivers racing over my skin.
“You push me because you crave the fight.”
I don’t answer with words.
Instead, I hook my leg around his hip, grinding against the hard length of him straining through his pants.
He hisses, one hand sliding down to grip my thigh, hitching it higher.
His fingers dig in, bruising, marking me as his.
I should hate the possessiveness, the way he treats me like property in his empire.
But it ignites something feral in me, a need to be claimed by the very danger that could destroy me.
He spins me around suddenly, bending me over the island.
The cool surface shocks my bare skin, my breasts pressing against it as he yanks my skirt up around my waist.
His hand cracks against my ass once, twice, the sting blooming into heat that makes me moan.
“Say it,” he demands, his voice edged with that accent that always undoes me.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
I twist my head to look back at him, my cheek against the marble.
His face is shadowed, eyes burning with hunger.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, then louder, “Fuck me like you own me, Dimitri.”
It's a rush to beg him and an even bigger rush when he grips my hair and yanks me up, then spins me around.
Before I know it, I'm draped across his shoulder and being carried through the house.
He tosses me onto his bed, and I bounce so hard it punches the breath from my lungs.
Then he's on me, tearing the clothing from my body like a crazed lunatic while I tug at his buttons.
It's all teeth and flesh and heat until we're both naked, our bodies writhing against each other on the slick sheets.
And when I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance, slick from how desperately wet I am, I let my knees fall aside.
He thrusts in hard, one deep stroke that fills me completely, stretching me to the edge of pain and pleasure.
I cry out, my nails scraping down his chest, body arching upward into him.
God, he’s huge, unrelenting, each thrust slamming into me with the force of his frustration, his need.
