Chapter 6

TORI

I close the front door, resting my body against it. My heart is pounding in my chest. How can one man infuriate me so much but still bring me to my knees with a simple touch? One look and I’m like putty in his hands. I mentally scold myself for being so weak. Hormones . . . it has to be hormones .

Marshall stands in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw clenched. I await his barrage of fury, but he chooses to do that annoying thing where he just stares at me in disappointment. I sigh, pushing myself off from the door while rolling my eyes.

“Save it, Marshall,” I snap, shoving past him and knocking my shoulder into his.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking irresponsible?” he asks. He follows as I make my way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

“I’m not in the mood for your overbearing big brother act.”

He bites his lip, and his eyes burn with anger. I’ve hit a nerve, but right now, I don’t give a shit. mister tall dark and fucking handsome has gotten under my skin again , and I can’t think straight.

“Grow the fuck up, Tori. You’re always wanting everyone to treat you like you’re not damn crazy, yet you’re constantly pulling shit like this. I’m here to keep you safe, to stop you from getting killed, and you act like a petulant teenager.”

I march up to him, prodding a finger to his chest. “I wouldn’t be in this fucked-up situation if you’d listened to me over his little cumslut,” I remind him. His frame towers over me, but he doesn’t intimidate me. I know he wouldn’t harm me. “And I’ll have you know that I was fucking crazy when Dmitry met me, and if I remember right, that’s why he was attracted to me. He loved the crazy. He loved not knowing what I was going to do next,” I snap right as Phoebe walks into the room.

“You can be so goddamn selfish sometimes, Tori. It’s not just you that you’re putting in danger now, but the baby too.”

My head drops at the reminder, and I feel the tears prick my eyes, so I turn and walk out, taking myself to my room.

I’m sick of people thinking they know what’s best for me all the time, trying to control my life. Yes, it’s time I got my shit together—after all, I’m about to be a mother—but I’ll be damned if I allow those bastards to fuck up my child’s life, like they’ve done with mine in such a short period of time.

I lie on the bed, placing the palm of my hand over my stomach to caress the non-existent bump. I allow more tears to fall, letting them slide along my cheeks and land on the pillow to soak the cotton, remembering how incredible Dmitry’s touch felt in that same spot.

“I’ll always protect you,” I whisper.

The door opens slightly, and Phoebe pokes her head in. “Safe to enter?” she asks with a smile.

I let out a little laugh as I sit up and swipe away the tears. “Come in. Sorry, all I seem to do is cry and argue with people at the moment.”

The bed dips beside me as she takes a seat, placing her hand over mine on my stomach. “They’re only trying to keep you safe, Tori.”

“I know.” I sigh. “My head is such a mess at the moment. Every time Dmitry is near, I can’t think straight and I feel like my heart will explode. I crave his touch, but my head can’t handle the chaos that comes with it.”

She wipes the pads of her thumbs over my cheeks to dry the tears. “He loves you,” she whispers, which makes me feel worse.

“It’s for the best,” I say with confidence. “We won’t work, and as much as I think I need him, we just aren’t meant to be together.”

“And the baby?”

“Right now, I’m angry. I just need some space to think straight. I need to focus on getting my life back on track, and that means getting another job so I can get my own place. I need my independence.”

She looks at me sceptically. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she questions.

It’s much easier to confide in Phoebe now she knows about my past and everything that’s happened. And I feel more grounded having someone I can trust to talk to. Trust has been hard to come by over the last couple months. “Like you said, I can’t stay locked-up here forever. I need to take control and show them I can do it. I’ve lived my whole life with someone taking control, telling me how to live, calling me crazy, like Marshall just did out there.” I flop back on the bed before continuing. “Growing up, I was always told nobody would believe me, and Marcus was right because they didn’t. And then Dmitry didn’t either. He couldn’t see what was right in front of him. I thought he was different, but turns out, he was the same as my parents and all the others who didn’t listen.” I sit up straighter. “I need to do this. It’s time to just be me. If you all love me, you’ll accept me as I am and you won’t try to change me. It doesn’t mean I won’t get shit wrong, or at times act erratic.” I smile, and she returns it, shaking her head.

“I’ll support you no matter what. Just don’t get yourself killed.” She laughs, and I hit her on the arm playfully.

“Too soon, Phoebs.”

I look at Marshall through the rearview mirror. He tried his best to talk me out of getting a job, which I’m sure was at Dmitry’s request, but I won’t live off his money. I want my independence back. I want to show them all that I have my shit together.

I’ve spent the last week applying for jobs and I’ve finally nailed an interview today at a high-end shoe store. Marshall was less than impressed, but he had no choice but to escort me when he realised I was going with or without him.

I run my sweaty palms over my pencil skirt. I’m so nervous. My last job didn’t end too well, and this industry is all about references.

“You okay?” Marshall asks, glancing back at me. “I can take you home if you need.”

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak right now. My phone alerts me to an incoming text, so I pull it out of my handbag.

Distraction: Good luck today, my krasota. Forgive me x

He’s left me alone since our last encounter, and although it made my heart ache not getting his daily messages, I also felt like I was starting to think more clearly.

I shake my head, pushing my phone back into my handbag. Fidgeting as I gaze out the window, I run through possible questions in my mind for the interview.

“I’ll need to go around the block again. There’s no parking spaces,” Marshall says.

I look at the clock on the dashboard, well aware that I’m already cutting it close. “Just pull in here and find somewhere once I’ve gone. I can’t be late.”

“Is that such a good idea?” he asks, sounding irritated.

I scoff. “I’m literally in that building right there.” I point out the window. “They’re hardly going to kill me while I’m inside interviewing for a fucking job they know nothing about, Marshall.” The car slows, stopping in traffic, and I use the chance to pull the handle quickly and slip out.

“Fuck,” he shouts, and I let out a little laugh as I slam the car door.

I straighten my shoulders, shaking out all my nervous energy. You’ve got this, Tori .

I push open the large glass doors, my heels clicking on the marble flooring as I enter. It’s then that I see her . Vivian is standing in the centre of the shop, speaking animatedly with her little hyenas. For a second, my world stands still, then I wince as I remember the sharpness of her slaps and the way her eyes burned into me with hatred.

I take a deep breath and tightly clutch my handbag, trying to ground myself. This was always going to happen one day, Tori. Get a hold of yourself . I was never going to avoid the bitch forever. Besides, Marshall will be in any second, and how lethal can she be without Nik or Vladimir?

I walk over to the counter with a false smile plastered on my face. I notice Vivian’s eyes tracking me, her mouth hanging slightly open in surprise.

The older woman behind the desk smiles as I introduce myself. “Good morning. I’m Victoria Harding. I’m here for an interview.”

She nods. “Please take a seat and the manager will be with you shortly.”

I close my eyes briefly, hoping Vivian pretends I don’t exist so I can at least get through this interview. I can still feel her eyes boring into the back of my head as I turn to take a seat to the left of the counter.

“Victoria, how wonderful to see you,” Vivian gushes as she approaches me with a fake smile. She makes my skin crawl as I glance around nervously, hoping Marshall bursts in any second. “How are you after your . . . ordeal?” she asks, and her bitches cackle behind her. “We didn’t expect to see you out and about so soon,” she looks around, making a point to stare at the door, “and alone.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my mouth running away with me. I can see in her eyes she’s worried, but she wouldn’t have wanted to miss the opportunity to face me, so I force a smile. “I’m much better. Where’s your lap dog?”

She frowns and then it registers that I’m talking about Vladmir. She titters as if I’ve just told her a joke. “Oh, Victoria,” she says, shaking her head, “you do make me laugh. You’re so . . . brave being here alone, and then you want to taunt me?” She sneers. “What, now you’ve finished with Dmitry, you want his father?” She scoffs, rolling her eyes, and her friends laugh like cackling witches.

“Victoria Harding,” a gentleman shouts from behind me, and I’m relieved to be able to get away. I stand, placing my handbag over my shoulder. “No thanks, Vivian. I’ll let you suck his crooked little cock. I’m so over that family, but you’re welcome to them,” I whisper in her ear before I turn and walk away. I’m shaking so bad, I want to vomit. I release a long breath while I follow the man into an office.

The interview goes by in a blur. I can’t remember much of anything apart from complete fear of being in the presence of Vivian again. I spent the entire time hoping Marshall found a place to park outside so he could keep an eye on the shop. The fear that Vivian may have called Vladimir to report on my whereabouts terrifies me.

As I go back into the main shop, I spot Marshall waiting for me in the seating area and relief floods me.

He smiles, rising to his feet and straightening his jacket. “Everything okay?” he asks, falling into step beside me. I give a stiff nod. “Victoria?” he questions, sensing my unease.

“Take me to the manor,” I whisper, and he guides me out the shop and into the back seat of the car.

I secure my seatbelt and open Dmitry’s earlier text. Right now, I know what I need, and it’s him. The urge to do something stupid plagues my mind, and even the thought of the baby isn’t quashing it.

I run my hands through my hair, my thoughts racing. Maybe I should ask Marshall to turn the car around and take me home. But then a darker part of me needs this, or who knows what I’ll do when I get home.

Me: Be at the manor . . . DISTRACTION!

DMITRY

I pace the hall, almost running to the door when there’s a soft knock. To say I had been waiting patiently for Victoria would be an understatement. Ever since I had another taste of her last week, I’ve craved her touch. I’ve needed to feel her climax clinging to my cock.

A wave of excitement runs through me as I place my hand on the doorknob, the cool metal distracting me from my racing thoughts. I open the door, and Victoria rushes past me, not even so much as a hello as she passes. Her perfume intoxicates me, and I briefly close my eyes to enjoy it before turning to face her.

She slides off her coat, hanging it on the stand. Her pencil skirt hugs her sleek figure, and her ivory blouse is tucked in neatly with a few buttons undone to show the swell of her breasts. Her eyes are full of heat and fire, but beneath that, she’s trying to hide that familiar look of pain and loss. It pulls at my heartstrings, and I ache to hold her. But I can tell she’s hanging on by a thread right now and I’m relieved she’s come to me. If I push her for anything she’s not ready to give, she’ll run.

She doesn’t say a word and avoids eye contact before making her way to the passage leading to the dungeon. My cock is already straining against my trousers as I admire the way her hips sway as she walks.

I look back to Marshall, who is still resting against the car, and he shrugs as if answering my unspoken question. He doesn’t know what made her want to come here. Closing the door, I head for the dungeon.

When I enter, she’s on her knees with her head dropped, in nothing but her ivory lace underwear. She’s ready to play and clearly doesn’t want to speak about what’s bothering her right now.

I hear her inhale sharply as I approach her. I don’t even need to touch her to have an effect, and I smirk as she breaks out in goosebumps.

I grip a hand in her hair and tug her head to look at me. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears in the soft light, and she averts her eyes. “Look at me, my krasota ,” I order, and she instinctively complies. “What is it you need?”

“Everything,” she says, her voice merely a whisper.

I make my way across to the dresser and pull out the blindfold. I need to take it easy with her. Not only is she fragile, but she’s carrying our child.

Tying the blindfold in place, I feel her body sag in relief as she exhales. I crouch down behind her, pressing my mouth to her ear. She automatically leans back against me, her body needing closer contact. I smile, relieved she feels the same. After today, she’ll realise how perfect we are together.

I unclip her bra, sliding the straps slowly down her arms and allowing it to drop to the floor. She tips her neck to one side, and I rain kisses along her delicate skin before gently grazing her earlobe between my teeth. She lets out a soft moan, and my cock twitches, straining for some form of release.

I release her and straighten, moving over to the cabinet and selecting a feather riding crop. When I brush it softly across her chest, she gasps. I notice her breasts are fuller, and I admire how her body is already beginning to change as she nurtures my child in her womb.

She moans in frustration. “Dmitry,” she whispers, her tone almost begging. She craves it harder, like we used to play before, but I can’t bring myself to, not in her delicate state.

She reaches up in an attempt to remove the blindfold, but I grab her wrist in time, halting her.

“Nuh-uh, my krasota ,” I scold, and her body sags.

“Dmitry, I came to you because I need relief. I don’t want this softly, softly bullshit. I crave pain, real pain,” she growls angrily.

“I am in control, my krasota . And as your Master, I know exactly what you need.” I lean closer to her ear again. “But you are also pregnant, so let’s do things my way. You’ll get the same result.”

She pushes to her feet, shoving the blindfold up from her eyes. “Well, if you can’t give it to me, I’ll go elsewhere.” She pauses to think for a beat before adding, “To a sex club or something.” Her words instantly ignite a dark, feral feeling in the pit of my stomach. Thinking about her with someone other than me drives me crazy, and I roughly grab her chin.

“No one ever touches what’s mine,” I hiss.

She smirks, arching a brow. “Then show me . . . Sir,” she whispers.

My chest heaves with anger as I pull her closer, leaning in to take her lip between my teeth, biting it just enough to taste the metallic tinge of her blood. I lick at the small cut, and her tongue darts out, connecting with mine in a deep, hungry kiss. I grab a handful of her hair, tipping her head back and breaking the kiss.

“You want it rough, my krasota ?” She hums in delight as I pull harder. “Safe word?” I demand.

She stares into my eyes, and for a second, I see that connection we have. “Distraction . . . Sir.”

I spin her away from me and push her face into the mattress. Her backside is in the air, and I spank it hard, watching as her skin pinks instantly. She re-positions herself as another blow connects so she can keep steady on her feet. I feel the familiar sting on my palm and begin to relax.

“More,” she cries out. “Harder, Sir.”

I reach for the cat o’ nine tails from the bedside table, pulling it back and relishing in the swishing sound it makes right before it meets her backside. The crack of the whip has her shuddering, and she groans aloud. I pull it back and rain another three blows against her bright red skin. I drop it to the floor and pull her thong, ripping it from her body.

I press my hand between her legs and feel her juices coating her thighs. I nudge her foot with my own, opening her legs wider, then I slap my hand against her pussy. She jerks and shudders again, this time moaning with pleasure. I insert a finger, and the sound of her wetness makes me crave being inside her. The urge to feel her come on my cock is unbearable, but I need to focus on her needs right now. I pump a few times before she comes apart, crying out as she fists the sheets. She sags forward, crawling farther onto the bed. I suck my fingers clean, savouring the taste of my krasota .

“You look fucking beautiful like this.” I use my hand to massage her juices into her skin. She rolls over, wincing when she tries to sit up.

“Careful, my krasota . Let me tend to your wounds.”

She shakes her head and stands, grabbing her skirt and pulling it on. I can see she’s in pain when the material brushes over her backside, but she forces a smile before telling me, “No, I’m good, thank you.” She reaches for her bra, making quick work of fastening it on.

I watch in confusion. Our session isn’t over, but she won’t meet my eyes, and there’s no banter or fun coming from that beautiful, fiery mouth of hers like there normally is after one of our sessions.

“Where are you going, Victoria?”

“Home,” she says matter-of-factly, as if it was a stupid question.

My heart drums faster in my chest. I hate the thought of her just walking out of here without us even speaking about anything that’s currently going on between us. “Victoria, we have things to discuss,” I begin, taking her wrist gently as she tries to pull on her blouse. She glares at the contact, and I immediately drop it. Her expression is stony, like she regrets what we just did, and suddenly, I’m back to feeling angry. “What the fuck was that all about?” I snap.

She shrugs, a smug smile playing on her lips. “I had an itch, and you scratched it.” She grabs hold of the bedframe with one hand and uses the other to push her heel on. She slips on the second one and stands fully, brushing her hands over her hair. “Thanks.”

“Thanks?” I repeat, hardly believing her attitude.

“Yeah,” she says, that stupid smile still in place as she heads out the room and up the corridor. “Thanks.”

“You just fucking used me,” I yell, marching after her. She continues towards the exit. “Victoria?—”

She slows as she reaches the door, pulling it open before turning to face me. She holds up her hand as if to stop any more words spilling from my lips. “I don’t want to hear it.” She reaches up on her tiptoes and places a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Have a lovely evening, Dmitry.” Her tone is cold and empty, like this was just some kind of business transaction.

And just like that, she leaves, getting into the back of Marshall’s car.

What the fuck just happened?