Chapter 10

EMERSON

Emerson tried to focus on something different, but her concentration was cracked and threatened to be shattered altogether by what the pictures and the email seemed to indicate. Realizing her ability to get anything constructive done had vanished, she chose to print out the email and the photographs. Her fingers trembled as she gathered the pictures and papers from the printer and stuffed them into her purse.

“What’s up?” asked Tegan.

“Nothing. I just remembered something I have to do,” she replied evasively. She was glad Kendra had gone out a little earlier. There’s no way Kendra would have been so easily sidestepped.

“Need some help?”

“No. Just a couple of quick errands I should have done yesterday. I got kind of caught up in the whole Romanov thing.”

Tegan grinned and then frowned. “About that… you do know those contracts aren’t legally binding, right? If you don’t want to pursue anything with Viktor, you don’t have to, and I’m sure a good jeweler could remove his collar without damaging it or you too much.”

Tegan was concerned for her, but there wasn’t really anything she needed to worry about—yet. It wasn’t that she wanted to free herself of this experience with Viktor. She just wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any long-lasting, negative ramifications from it. And she needed to know if Viktor was involved with Toney.

She just knew she couldn't wait until their date—was it even considered a date?—this evening to confront him; she had to do it now. The uncertainty gnawed at her insides, making her feel sick. If what the photographs implied were true, there would be no date, no experience, no relationship at all. She would be done.

Trust and seduction were both fragile and tenuous between them, and if shattered, there would be no repairing it. She was already way outside her comfort zone. She probably should take time to change, but this was neither a social nor a business call. Viktor would just have to learn to take her the way she was. With a deep breath, she slung her purse over her shoulder and headed out the door.

The drive to The Carriage House was a blur. Her mind raced, replaying every moment with Viktor, every whisper, every touch of his hand, every thrust of his cock. Would those memories need to sustain her over the years, or would he have some explanation that would allow her to continue exploring a side of herself she hadn’t even known existed? How could he betray her like this? Perhaps he had no idea what he already meant to her. Did she mean nothing to him? Had she given him so much of herself, her submission, her trust, only to be met with deception and secrets? That was not a fair exchange. Her willingness to submit to him might not mean much to him, but it meant one hell of a lot to her.

As she pulled into the circular drive in front of the Carriage House, she could feel the butterflies in her gut take flight in anticipation of seeing him. She told the butterflies to get over it, tamping them down and getting them back under control. Her resolve hardened, she got out of her truck before the valet could get to her.

“Ms. Ravenel, the club isn’t open, and Mr. Romanov did not say he was expecting you.”

“Not to worry on either account. I’m not here for the club, and Viktor will see me whether he wants to or not.”

No matter what happened, she needed the truth. She marched up to the entrance, the heels of her hastily pulled on riding boots clopping sharply against the polished marble floor that covered the foyer. She bypassed two other men inside and headed up the stairs.

“I’ll see myself in,” she called over her shoulder, hoping they wouldn’t try to stop her.

The doorman, sensing her determination, didn't question her or try to interfere. Smart man. Why did the stairs seem so much longer? Before she could knock on the door, Viktor was there opening it. He looked her up and down. He was not amused.

Pushing past him, she entered his office. “We need to talk, Romanov.”

He closed the door and turned to face her. “Apparently, we need to do more than that.”

Warning bells should have gone off, but they didn’t—or maybe they did and were being drowned out by the happy noises her erotic synapses were firing off.

She held up a hand to ward off whatever he was going to say. Anger flickered across his features as he moved past her to sit in the chair behind his desk.

“Sit, dushka. Explain yourself to me.”

“How about you explain this to me,” she said, pulling the photos and email from her purse and tossing them at him. “Do you even have an explanation?”

Viktor's face darkened as he looked through the information. He gathered the papers, neatened them into a pile, and set them on his desk with the email on top. "Why don’t you tell me what you think it is? I can assure you whatever you think, you are wrong."

"Am I?” she shot back, part of her praying he was right. “If it isn’t what I think, then tell me what it is. Because from where I stand, I can tell you it doesn’t look good."

He took a deep breath, his expression hardening. "My business is just that—business. It is not of your concern. Part of your submission is trusting me."

Emerson snorted. "Asking me to ignore what I can see right in front of my own eyes—you having business dealings with Oliver Toney and ones that implicate you in his money laundering scheme—is asking a lot.”

His explanation had been no explanation at all, and they both knew it.

"I'm not asking," Viktor said, his tone low and dangerous.

Emerson's anger flared, mingling hurt and feelings of betrayal. "You can't just dismiss this, Viktor. I need to know the truth."

He came around the desk, like a predator closing in on its prey. "What you need, malenkaya, is to be reminded of your place."

The confrontation was escalating quickly and threatened to blow out of control. Anger sparked between them like a live electrical wire. Viktor grabbed her arm, not roughly but with enough force to show he meant business, and hauled her out of the chair, marching her backwards towards the door of his office. For a heart-stopping moment Emerson feared he was about to throw her out of his office. Emerson's heart raced and banged in her chest like a demented and possessed snare drum. She was so angry with him, and yet all she could think of was how much she wanted him.

His lips came crashing down on hers as he pushed her against the wall behind them; his hard cock pulsed against her belly. Well, at least he wasn’t unaffected by whatever it was that was between them. Emerson’s core ached and throbbed as he held her in place with one hand cupping the globe of her ass and the other fisting her hair, tugging it and lighting up her scalp in the most delicious way. He tilted her head back to further reduce her ability to move as he deepened the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth, tangling with hers and making her moan. He released her ass and allowed his hand to roam up and down her spine until it settled back on her ass cheek, squeezing it firmly.

The sound of their heavy breathing filled the air around them and Emerson was certain anyone passing by the door would hear them and know exactly what was taking place. He tugged her hair, refocusing her attention on him as he pulled away from the kiss for air.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Go away,” he snarled. “We’re busy. I should spank this sexy ass of yours for your behavior, but I have need of you. I plan to make use of your pussy right here, right now. It is lucky for you that you chose to wear a skirt with a sexy sweater that clings to your breasts.” He ran his hand under her skirt from her knee to her ass and smiled. “Good girl. No panties. From now on when you come to see me, you will wear a skirt or a dress.”

He bit back a groan as she thrust her pelvis into the hard line of his cock trapped behind his fly.

“What a naughty minx you are. First you storm in here and speak to me disrespectfully and now you think to take what has yet to be offered.”

“I-I can’t help it, M-Master. The pictures upset me.” She felt her resolve weakening.

“Being upset is not an acceptable reason for rude or insolent behavior.”

She moaned as his lips pressed against hers, feeling his strong, warm hand rucking her skirt up, exposing her sex to the cool air conditioning of his office. She gasped into his mouth as he lifted her off her feet and loomed over her. Emerson’s heart raced with excitement as he pulled her closer, his body grinding against hers.

“Tonight, I will administer your discipline, but right now I mean to destroy my pussy,” he growled in that sexy, low voice that sent shivers down her spine.

“Your pussy?” she quipped.

He cupped her mound and squeezed hard enough to be just this side of painful. She inhaled sharply as she heard him unzip his pants, letting the heat of his cock rise up between her legs as he rubbed it slowly back and forth. Emerson didn’t have time to think—only gasp as he pulled her down so that she was impaled on his cock as he thrust up, filling her completely. It felt so good to be taken like this—rough and demanding with no permission asked. Viktor was a brute, and she was turned on. The intrusion was such a relief to the turmoil she’d been feeling.

“Wrap your legs around me, dushka.”

Without thinking, Emerson did as he asked. His hips pounded against hers as their tongues danced together again in a passionate kiss. His free hand pushed up under her sweater and bra, squeezing one of her breasts, making her hiss into his mouth. His fingers traced circles around her nipple before rolling it between his fingers and giving it a sharp tug as shivers of delight surged through her entire body. The door rattled on its hinges with each of his thrusts; but Viktor didn’t let up.

Just as Emerson was about to come, he paused and pulled out, setting her on her feet and causing her to cry out in protest. He flipped her around and swatted her ass. Emerson rested her forehead on the door, using her forearms to balance as he grasped her hips and dragged her ass backwards. Two more stinging swats landed—a welcome pain that quickly gave way to pleasure before he spread her cheeks and shoved his cock back in her wet pussy.

“There will come a time in the not-too-distant future that I take your ass for my pleasure.”

He pulled out a second time, teasing her by running the head of his cock from her clit up to her dark rosette and back again.

"Oh god," Emerson moaned as Viktor slammed back into her, the sudden powerful surge hitting the right spot and making way for a wave of pleasure as he filled her up once more.

Emerson groaned softly as he pressed her against the door and allowed his hands to roam over her body as he held her pinned between the hard planes of his body and the solid door, tweaking and pinching her nipples in turn. As he began to thrust in and out—deep, long, hard—the sound of skin slapping against skin filled his office as his pace accelerated, faster and faster, just bordering on violent with each powerful stroke. Emerson felt as if she was being claimed by some primal force of a man, marking her as his own as surely as his collar did. Some feral part of her responded to his treatment in a way that drove her wild with desire.

His arm wrapped around her holding her in place as his fingers traced circular patterns on her belly, leaving goosebumps in their wake as she arched her back to take him deeper. His hand slid down, cupping her mound and finding her clit, circling it before pressing down, causing Emerson to jolt. Viktor’s hot breath against her neck made her tremble and shiver with anticipation for what was to come.

“So wet,” he whispered. “So tight. So very naughty. But you will learn.”

She was so lost in the moment. All that seemed to matter was pleasing him—accepting the pleasure he could wring from her body. She’d been drunk before, but never drugged. Having Viktor fuck her—for she had no doubt he was the one who did the fucking, and she was the one who got fucked—was intoxicating and far more potent than any combination of drugs and alcohol. She wondered if they had a twelve-step program for recovering submissives, and then realized she was beyond help.

His hips pumped against hers as he pounded into her. Time and time again he let her get close to the edge before pulling back and not allowing her to fly free.

“You don’t come until I tell you that you can. Disobedience will earn you a weekend of being tied up and edged for hours and hours. I will force you to gag on my cock while I face fuck you and send my cum into your belly, and you will get nothing in return.”

Over and over, he took her to the brink before backing off and leaving her wanting and whining in protest. Emerson had never thought it would be so addictive and amazing to be taken so roughly and thoroughly.

Finally, he thrust deep and hard, “Come for me, malenkaya. Cry out for me so they can hear you in the foyer.”

As much as she would have liked to remain quiet, Emerson found she didn’t have the capacity to do so. His words made her body shatter into a million pieces as she screamed out his name as her orgasm rocked through her, her pussy clenching around him like a vice grip as he found his own release, streaming a torrent of cum into her. Emerson collapsed against the hard door, panting and spent with nothing resolved.