Chapter 11

EMERSON

He allowed her skirt to fall back into place before lifting her off the ground and going to sit in the wingback chair in front of the fireplace. Once they were settled, he pulled her sweater up out of the way and puddled her skirt up around her waist. She started to put both of them and her bra back in place, but a simple growl stayed her hand.

"I’m not going to let you control me like this, Viktor. I deserve to know what's going on."

His eyes blazed with intensity. "I will always be in control, which is how you want it to be. I will tell you what I feel you need to know to ensure you remain safe. You will have to trust me."

"Trust you?" she snorted. "How can I trust you when I think you're hiding things from me?"

Viktor's jaw clenched. "This is not just about you, Emerson. There are things at play here you don't understand."

"Then make me understand," she said softly, her voice breaking.

For a moment, Viktor's expression softened as he trailed his finger down her cheek. He seemed on the verge of telling her the truth, but then he shook his head. "Some secrets are too dangerous to share."

Emerson felt tears pricking at her eyes, frustration boiling over. "You can't keep me in the dark, Viktor. Not if you want this to work."

“There is no if between us. You will trust me, and that is final.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“It does for me. Trust me, Emerson. Just know that I will never move against you or your sisters.”

She wanted to trust him, she really did, but the photographs were too damning. "I don't know if I can," she whispered.

“You will, malenkaya. You will.”

He silenced any further protestations by kissing her fiercely, possessively, pouring far more emotion into the kiss than she’d thought he felt for her. Oh sure, she knew he wanted her physically, even suspected there was a part of him that needed control over a woman who was not intrinsically submissive, but there was more to it than that—or was she just telling herself that?

"At least tell me why Toney? He is a douchebag of the first order."

Viktor chuckled in a weary tone. "It's complicated. Toney and I have history—things that go beyond what you saw in those photos and email. It's business, not personal. But ask yourself this—who sent that information to you, and why?"

"I don’t know,” she said honestly.

"What bothers me is that neither do I. And until I do, I can’t help but believe you and your sisters may be in danger. I had planned to talk to you about upgrading your security system. It was ridiculously easy for me to get inside last night. I will see that it is done in the next day or two. Until I am satisfied, I will have a security detail at your house.”

“You can’t just assign a bunch of armed guards to watch over my sisters and I without asking.”

“I assure you; your sisters would not argue with me. They know better. But I will give you a choice—either you agree to the upgrade in security and the guards until I am satisfied that you will be secure in your home, or I move the three of you here to the club."

“And that’s your idea of a compromise?”

“I will not make a compromise where your safety is concerned. I am giving you a choice, and I would think twice before throwing it in my face, as I am not inclined to give you many.”

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "Okay," she said finally. "You can upgrade the security, and we’ll agree to a single guard.”

He shook his head. “No. An armed detail. That, or you move here.”

“You can’t just up and move us to wherever you like.”

He chuckled, genuine amusement in his tone. “As I said before, I think you’ll find I can and will do what I like."

VIKTOR

Viktor let her doze in his arms. She was a fiery woman with a well of passion he was beginning to believe no one had tapped before. He wondered if even Emerson had guessed its depth. There were things he wanted to share with her, but he didn’t believe she was yet ready to learn them. Until he was convinced of her safety, he would keep her close, but he would not endanger her more than was absolutely necessary.

When he stood up, Emerson moaned and started to wake, but then nestled closer, nuzzling his neck instinctively. She might not want to trust him, but she did. He would prove himself worthy of that trust.

He carried her into the full bath that was attached to his office. As far as he knew, no woman had ever been in there. Damon had kept an executive washroom, but Viktor had expanded it into a spa-like bath for his personal use. Looking around, he realized it was terribly masculine. Perhaps he should encourage Emerson to add some feminine touches.

He set her on the massive vanity, kissing her awake and watching as her body came back online and became aroused all over again. Supporting her with one hand, he drew her sweater up over head and then unfastened and removed her bra.

“Where are we?” she asked, beginning to become more aware of her surroundings.

She was going to be so easy to send into subspace. He could almost fuck her into it now. She might resist him at first, but he would make her let go and give over completely to him.

“We are in my private bath in my office. Are you awake enough to support yourself?”

“Um, sure. What are we doing in here?”

“I thought I would take a shower with you. Give me your foot,” he said taking her ankle in his hand and gripping the riding boot to pull it off. “Other one.” He pulled the second boot off. “You stay there, and I’ll turn on the shower and adjust the water. Then we’ll get you out of that skirt.”

“Does it ever occur to you to ask me?”

“It does, but then I reject the idea.”

“Why?” she laughed.

“Because you have spent far too many years making far too many decisions with no one to lean on. You need to have a place where you can just indulge and be indulged—some place you don’t have to think or worry about anything other than pleasing me.” He caressed her face. “And you please me more than I can say.”

“I thought you said I was disobedient and disrespectful,” she teased.

He liked that she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. He knew that to earn her trust and respect would take a bit of doing, but he would have them and her.

“You are, and when you are, you will take my discipline. I think you need that, too, dushka. You need to know your Dom is strong enough and tough enough that he can handle you when you get too far out in the weeds; that he can exert control and keep you in line when you go too far. This I will do for you, as well. But you should know, after discipline always comes forgiveness and usually pleasure.”

Once he had the water adjusted, Viktor removed his clothing, lifted her off the vanity and stripped her of her skirt before leading her into the shower. She moaned as the hot water hit her, and he let her sag back into his strength. Why was it that holding her like this made him feel every bit as much of a Dom as it did when he had a naked woman bound to the St. Andrew’s cross and used a flogger or a single tail to make her sub out? He’d never felt that way with anyone before, but he did with her, and he found he was growing to like it very much.

She reached back between them to run her hand down his cock that was quickly becoming engorged.

“No. You do not touch me sexually unless you have permission.”

“That doesn’t seem quite fair. You touch me sexually any time you want.”

“Yes, I do, for I am Dom, and you are sub.”

“Does it have to be that way for you?”

He nodded. Even though he believed that she needed his brand of dominance and control, he knew she might not yet be willing to believe that or give her submission to him voluntarily. No matter. He knew he was right, and that would be something about which she had no choice.

When she failed to remove her hand, and in fact squeezed his shaft sensually, Viktor took her hand and removed it from between them. With his other hand, he fisted her hair and tugged her down, bending her at the waist.

“Palms on the bench,” he said in a neutral tone. He could tell by the way her body softened and she widened her stance she was expecting to be fucked. She couldn’t have been more wrong. He landed his hand on her wet, exposed backside with a hard smack.

“What the hell, Viktor…” she yelped, trying to stand back up.

Grasping her hair, he pulled her back down. “No, Emerson. I told you earlier you would take my discipline, and you agreed. Have you changed your mind?”

“No, I just thought…”

“You just thought you’d top from the bottom. Sterling has that issue with your sister. I will not have the same with you.”

He smacked her again, and the sound rattled her only a moment before she felt the sting of his displeasure. He smacked her ass hard and fast, raining pain mixed with heat and a certain kind of pleasure wherever he connected. Emerson bit back tears, but couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped her lips. Just as she was becoming accustomed to the speed and rhythm he was using, he changed it up, spanking her slowly and holding his hand against flesh to trap the warmth and sting and pressing it into her skin.

As much as he enjoyed spanking her, and he had to admit that he did, he knew this was only the second time she’d ever been spanked. After an even dozen, he stopped.

“Who is your Master?”

“You are, Master.”

“You will not behave in the disrespectful manner you did this afternoon. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You will not touch me sexually without permission or invitation.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And you will learn to trust me.”

“I’ll try, Master. That’s the best I can do.”

He kissed the base of her spine, admiring the lovely pink color of her ass. “I do not ask for perfection, dushka. I only ask that you try your best and accept my discipline when you do not do as well as I think you should.”

“Yes, Master.”

He could hear the hitch in her voice. Drawing her out of the shower, he dried her off and then wrapped her in a soft blanket. He lifted her in his arms, and she giggled. He would be willing to bet substantial amounts of money that no one had heard her giggle in many years. She settled her arms around him.

“I don’t suppose, you’d consider letting me put my clothes back on, would you?”

“No. I am taking you upstairs to my penthouse.”

“I didn’t know there was a penthouse up here.”

“There is. Although penthouse is a bit of a misnomer. The buildings in Charleston aren’t all that tall and if it’s a historic building, you’ll play hell getting them to let you add any floors. I bought the building from Damon Knox and also a controlling interest in the club.”

He walked over to what most people thought was a closet. In reality it was a private elevator to his home at the top of the building. He pressed the floor switch and the elevator door opened. He stepped in and nudged the button with his elbow, liking how she didn’t tense up as it started to rise. When they reached his home at the top of the building, she gasped.

“I had no idea this was up here.”

“Most people don’t. I like it that way.”

“Why?”

“Because if you cannot easily find where a man sleeps, you cannot easily find a way to murder him while he does.”

Viktor carried Emerson into his bedroom, kicking the door closed and setting her down on the edge of the bed. “The bath and walk-in closet are through that door,” he said, indicating a set of double doors to the right of the bed.

“What’s through there?” she asked, pointing to a large door to the left of the bed.

“A private play space I had built for myself but which I had begun to believe I would never have cause to use. Get into bed, Emerson.”

“That’s a lovely idea, Viktor, but I really do need to get back to the house.”

“No. You need to get into bed.”

“My sisters…”

Viktor laughed. “If you don’t think your sisters know you are with me, you are deluding yourself. They might not know you are up here, mainly because they know I don’t bring women up here. In fact, the people who even know it exists are few. They won’t be worried about where you are, but that you are with me. Into bed, dushka.”

She seemed to like it when he referred to her with Russian terms of endearment. He liked that she did.

Not waiting for her to comply, Viktor pulled her to her feet and pulled back the covers. When she still didn’t do what he knew she knew he wanted, he simply picked her up and tossed her on the bed, making her laugh a deep, throaty laugh that made him think she was happy and relaxed. There would be plenty of time to push her limits, but for now, making her laugh seemed far more important.

It was difficult for Viktor to show devotion or tenderness. Neither had ever served him well, but Emerson seemed to need it. She needed to know she was already important to him; needed to feel caring and passion fuse together as one. He didn’t have the words to tell her, as words were often false, but he did have the ability to show her that he wanted more than the physical from her. He wanted her soul.

Viktor’s hands were a soft whisper against her sensitized skin as he trailed his fingers across her nipples, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. It was uncharted territory for them both as he set his mouth to working magic in a way no other man had ever dared. He allowed his hands and mouth to worship her.

“Viktor,” she said starting to squirm under his affection and attention. “Maybe we… or rather, maybe I should…”

She moaned loudly as his tongue flicked over sensitive flesh.

“Maybe you should be quiet and let me ravish you,” he soothed, his hand splaying warmly across her belly. “Do not think, malenkaya, just feel.”

The way her hands fisted the sheets let him know she was trying to do as he asked. There would come a time when he would push her past her ability to comply just so he could punish her—such was the dance of discipline and desire.

Patiently, methodically, and relentlessly he pushed her closer to the precipice and watched as the passion coiled more tightly within her.

“You are not to come until I give you permission.”

“Viktor,” she hissed, her voice breaking on his name.

“Trust me. I want to see you come undone for me,” he murmured between kisses, his voice raw with desire.

With shaking hands, she reached up to play with her nipples. Viktor slapped them away and then pinched the pebbled tips until she arched her back, biting her lower lip. “You do not touch yourself without my permission. If you cannot help yourself, I will tie you up.”

The groan that rumbled up from her reverberated within him, amplifying the maelstrom that swirled inside his core.

“Viktor, I… I can’t…”

“You can. You will,” he commanded, his dedication to her pleasure unwavering.

The world narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth, the mastery of his touch, and the overwhelming certainty that he could and would make her shatter into a million pieces. He watched as her body responded and realized the moment her ability to control her own response had surrendered to her need for release. When her climax hit her, it was as if he was watching a supernova streak across the sky, dazzling and all-consuming. Her body arched off the bed, every muscle tensed as wave after wave of ecstasy ripped through her.

“Viktor,” she cried out, a testament to the wonder he had coaxed from her depths. It was an amazing revelation that left him breathless as she clung to the remnants of earth-shattering bliss.

As the aftershocks of her orgasm subsided, Viktor’s movements became a languid crawl up her body, his skin scorching hers. Her hands found his cock, hard and insistent.

“Please,” she begged prettily. “I’m sorry.”

“You tried. I could see that. I will have to figure out the price you will pay for your failure.”

“Can I touch your cock, please?”

He nodded, and bit back a groan of pure need as she wrapped her fist around him. His own breathing hitched as she began to gently stroke, a rhythmic pull that matched the rapid beating of his heart.

“Viktor,” she murmured, seeming to enjoy the fleeting raw power she had over him as he pressed into her palm.

The corners of his mouth lifted in a half-smile filled with promise before his lips crushed against hers. The kiss was a maelstrom, destroying any thoughts of control or remnants of restraint. There was only the two of them, the heat of their bodies as they became entwined, and the thundering pulse of desire demanding fulfillment.

Covering her with his body, he pressed his length to her entrance. Slowly, but inexorably, he pushed in and pulled back, each surge forward going a little deeper and driving her mad with wanting. A soft sigh escaped her lips as he pushed in until the intimate connection had been completed. It sent ripples of pleasure coursing through them both.

“Viktor…” The word was a sigh, a prayer, as he brought her legs up to wrap around his waist.

Surging in, he began to move within her, her inner walls trembling up and down his length. Each thrust was punctuated by a shared breath, a shared heartbeat. They moved in sync in a dance older than time itself and yet as fresh and new as the flowers that rose up from the snow.

The world outside ceased to exist. Nothing could touch either of them here, not the shadows of past doubts nor the whispers of the pain they had left behind. In her arms, his soul was restored and the invincible warrior became not the controlling Dom, but her protector and supplier of all her pleasure.

That didn’t mean he would let her take or even share control. No, Emerson was a woman who needed and would learn to rely on his strength and the fire within him that would burn the world down for her.

Their rhythm quickened, a crescendo of motion and emotion that spiraled tighter with every thrust. The heat of his body seared hers, an inferno that threatened to consume them both. Emerson clung to Viktor, her fingers digging into the cords of muscle along his back, each movement driving her closer to the edge.

“Viktor,” she gasped, her voice hitching as the pleasure coiled tighter with each thrust. With every stroke, he hit a depth that made her toss her head back and forth.

“Come for me, Emerson,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear as he nipped the lobe. “Only for me.”

Then, as if his words were the key to release the lock, the tension snapped. The explosion of bliss was blinding, all-consuming. Her body shook with the force of it, waves of ecstasy rolling through her like a relentless tide. She cried out, a sound that echoed off the walls, raw and full of wonder.

“God, yes… Emerson,” Viktor groaned, his own release following close on the heels of hers. He thrust deep with a final, brutal stroke before grinding into her, his body shuddering and tensing above her in powerful spasms.

He allowed himself the luxury of collapsing on her and reveling in the softness of her body, his weight a comforting pressure that anchored her to the here and now.

Lying beneath him, she held him close. A profound stillness enveloped the room, their mingled breaths the only sound. Her heartbeat pounded against his chest, a drumbeat that matched his own.