Claimed

by Stacey Kennedy

  She remembered him removing the ropes and picking her exhausted body up off the ground, though she hadn’t realized he’d walked anywhere. But here she was, cradled in his arms while he ran his fingers through her hair as if this were everyday business. “Is it always like this after a scene?”

  A soft kiss pressed against the top of her head, then Master Dmitri continued to brush his fingers through her hair. “Sometimes a sub needs a moment to recover, and it’s her Dom’s responsibility to give her aftercare, just like I’m offering it to you now.”

  He was tending to her not because he wanted to but out of obligation. Not wanting to be pitied, she attempted to sit up.

  Master Dmitri’s hand tightened on her head, even if his voice remained gentle. “No, doll, stay still. I’m enjoying you in my arms.”

  An ease that he seemed to bring without much effort washed over her, and she relaxed into his hold. Besides, his touch felt . . . nice. Safe. His presence was as warm as the blanket around her, and oddly enough, she’d never experienced such a sensation of peace. As if the voices chattering in her head, telling her what to do, where to go, and how to act, had finally gone silent, though how could that be? He’d stolen her voice from her, hit her with a flogger, bound her with a rope, and made her follow his rules.

  A gentle touch along her forehead drew her into the present, and Master Dmitri murmured, “All conflicted, aren’t you?”

  The music playing only added to the sense of relaxation, which confused her. She hadn’t been relaxed since she stepped foot into the dungeon. Sometimes she’d been insanely nervous and other times completely aroused when Master Dmitri had turned all that impressive power on her, but relaxed hadn’t entered the equation. “Something like that.”

  Tipping her head back against his arm, he looked down at her with his sexy half-smile, which now portrayed gentleness. “Tell me.”

  “I . . .” She hesitated, not overly comfortable sharing her thoughts. At the slow arch of his eyebrow, she sighed. He wouldn’t take no for answer. “I’ve never felt so comfortable, so calm, or so centered with anyone than I do with you now.”

  His mouth once again curved. “That’s a good thing, doll.”

  True, but . . . “It’s odd, considering you took control from me. You did all the thinking for me, and it’s strange I found freedom in that.”

  “You thought it’d be the other way around?”

  She nodded, the back of her head brushing up against his thick forearm, as he continued stroking her hair. “I would’ve have thought I’d be comfortable and sure of myself when I was in control, not out of it.” She hesitated, gathering her foggy and distant thoughts. “I wasn’t expecting to feel anything after the scene, except sexually satisfied.”

  He inclined his head in clear understanding. “That, Presley, is what makes you a submissive. You find peace and happiness when you relinquish control.” His eyes searched hers a moment before he dragged a finger along her cheek. “What else has you confused?”

  Exhaling a long breath, still trapped in the comfort of his warm stare, she tried to sort out her thoughts. “I’ve never had a one-night stand before, so I’m not sure what it’s like, exactly. From what I hear, they’re cold and impersonal, and this isn’t.”

  One sleek eyebrow arched. “Far from it, doll.”

  The tenderness in his touch and expression only cluttered her mind more. “Okay, but I got off, and you didn’t take anything back. I can’t help wondering what you get out of this.”

  His hand stilled on her head. “Your submission.”

  She pondered and realized that her books hadn’t taught her everything; nor had she asked Cora enough. “Which means?”

  He resumed the swipe of his fingers over her hair, and his voice was smooth and controlled. “I like knowing a woman finds a certain type of peace in my care, to know I can bring her to the highest levels of pleasure, and I am the reason for it.”

  Seemed simple, but . . . “That’s enough for you?”

  “For now, it’s enough.” His gaze sizzled with a hot promise. “Besides, I’m not finished with you, Presley. Our scene was about you learning my expectations, experiencing your first time not only submitting to a Dom but also experiencing kink, and most important, building trust between us.” His grin turned entirely wicked. “So later, I can get off.”

  Her cheeks heated, but his reasoning eased her slight guilt toward him. At least he got something out of their scene. Shifting against his lap, she didn’t feel an erection, and oddly, that comforted her. It meant right now he was in the present, not lost in naughty thoughts. That restraint warmed her to him, which made her curious about the man holding her. “Have you always needed to be in control?”

  He nodded, the dim light in the dungeon cast a shadow over his chiseled jaw, and a strand of blond hair fell over his eyebrow. “I have a naturally dominant personality, but I didn’t understand what that meant until I worked at the casino beneath the vice president, Charles.”

  The name instantly registered in Presley’s mind: Charles was the husband of the doctor, Mary. Now the close relationship between Mary and Dmitri made sense. Dmitri had worked with Charles at the casino, and that’s how they were all connected.

  “Four years ago Charles died, and because he’d taken me under his wing and taught me everything he knew, I took over the role of vice president at the casino.” He watched his finger slide through her hair, then he looked into her eyes. “A year later, I stepped into the role of president.” Raw pain seeped into his expression before he controlled his emotions. “Our friendship changed my life, and not only professionally.”

  She pondered, then she concluded, “So, I take it you mean that Charles introduced you to the lifestyle?”

  Master Dmitri inclined his head, continuing to trail his fingers over her hair in light, gentle sweeps. “He recognized Dom traits in me, explained the lifestyle, and offered to guide my way as a sexual dominant.”

  Leaning in to his touch, which brought forth that sexy curve of his mouth, she asked, “And that helped you?”

  He looked at his fingers brushing through her hair, as if doing such a simple thing relaxed him as much as her. “Once Charles brought me into the lifestyle, I became more able to control my need to dominate in public, keeping it confined to private. Before Charles, I was very strained and unhappy. After I discovered the lifestyle, everything settled for me.”

  She supposed that made sense. If Master Dmitri held a desire to be dominant and he couldn’t be that way in everyday life—since not everyone took well to it—she figured it would be stressful, even frustrating. “After that, you opened the dungeon?”

  Something close to pain filled his eyes before he controlled his features yet again. “I bought the vacant land two weeks after Charles’s death. It took one year to build the mansion, and I opened the dungeon a month later in his honor. Now I enforce the rules he instilled in me and educate those as he did me.”

  Warmth slid through her heart. Out of all the reasons she had thought he’d open a dungeon, that wasn’t what she’d expected. Leaning her head to the side, she scanned the dungeon. From their spot on the couch, she couldn’t see any scenes going on, only members walking by.

  Master Dmitri’s motives for opening the dungeon touched her. The rules and ways that Charles had lived by would never be forgotten, because Master Dmitri made certain of it. He honored his friend and mentor in the only way he could, doing what Charles had taught him to do and passing the rules on to others.

  His fingers trailed over her hair again, and she looked up into the powerful stare that reached into the very depths of her. Now she saw deeper into him than a dominant man who enjoyed kink. Master Dmitri had a genuinely kind soul.

  During her scene, a certain peace had washed over her. She had thought she’d come to Club Sin with something to prove to herself, to be a different woman, but tonight she felt as if she had become the woman she was meant to be—free and calm.

  Now she l
ay in the arms of a man who asked her only to be herself. He demanded honesty, and right down to the simplicity of it all, he cherished her gift of submission. When he touched her, he meant it. When he looked at her, he saw right through her. When he talked to her, he didn’t see anyone but her. For all he’d given her since her first sight of him sitting in his office, she realized an empty hole in her soul had begun to heal.

  The sheer tenderness she spotted in his features, the care and compassion he’d shown her, all made her nibble on her lip as she tried to fight off the emotion in her chest. Sadly, she failed, and on a deep breath, tears filled her eyes.

  His touch halted as his eyebrows drew together. “Now, doll, what are those tears for?”

  Overwhelmed with emotion, experiencing an unfamiliar sense of rightness deep in her soul, she said the only thing she could think of: “It feels nice being here with you.”

  He smiled, sweet and soft. “I enjoy it as well.” He slid his fingers over her jaw so tenderly, it came as a contradiction to his dominant side. “Rest now, doll, you need it.”

  * * *

  An hour had passed since Presley had fallen asleep, and Dmitri officially gave up on fighting against his next steps. He gathered her in his arms, and she didn’t stir from her sleep, still wrapped in the warm blanket.

  He strode through the dungeon, passing by members who smiled and nodded at him, which he returned. He scanned the dungeon and spotted Cora sitting next to Kyler on the couch in the center of the dungeon.

  At his approach, both turned to him, and Dmitri didn’t hesitate, knowing what he said next would cause a reaction. “I’m going to take Presley to my bedroom.”

  Cora’s eyes, not surprisingly, widened, and she glanced at Kyler, who wore a similar mask of shock. Dmitri ignored the astonishment rippling across their features, and to Kyler, he said, “Will you lock the doors at midnight?”

  Kyler slowly grinned. “Sure will.”

  Dmitri snorted. He didn’t need the reminder his behavior wasn’t typical, but nothing since Presley walked into his office had been ordinary. He kept his face impassive, and to Cora, he said, “Presley will be fine with me tonight.”

  “Oh, I know, sir.” Her wide eyes hadn’t lowered, confirming that he’d stunned her senseless.

  While he could justify his actions by saying that he was simply doing right by Presley, it would be a half-truth. She had suffered a huge emotional drop after her scene, and as her Dom, he needed to stay with her; but wanting her with him tonight was not out of duty. He’d never taken a sub into his personal bedroom; instead, he would’ve taken them to a guest room. For those reasons, he kept his mouth shut and didn’t bother feeding either of them lies.

  Cora looked between him, Presley in his arms, and Kyler, then she finally asked, “Should I come get her in the morning, sir?”

  He glanced down at Presley, who breathed deeply in sleep, so sweet in his arms. Dmitri wanted more time with her. He needed to understand why her whisper of Master still echoed in his ears. He had to figure out why her aftercare was more to him than duty, and why he could’ve run his fingers through her hair for hours. And he needed to understand why he’d spent the last hour trying to talk himself out of taking her into his personal bedroom.

  He lifted his head. “I’ll drive her home. Before you go, please bring her clothes up to my bedroom and leave them on my chaise.”

  “Of course, sir,” Cora said with a gentle smile.

  Kyler waggled his eyebrows and gave his typical measured look, but Dmitri ignored his friend’s amusement. He didn’t need any more of Kyler’s smart-ass expressions to prove he had some thinking to do. Shifting Presley’s weight in his arms, and without another word, he headed for the exit.

  After the dungeon door closed behind him and the music grew quiet, Dmitri made his way up the basement stairs then walked down the main floor’s hallway. Doing his best to remain steady, not to wake Presley, he journeyed to the upper floor.

  He reached the top of the stairs and strode down the hallway, entering his large bedroom, decorated with cherrywood furniture. He approached the king-size sleigh bed, awkwardly slid the black duvet back, and laid Presley down gently on the mattress. Then he removed the blanket from her naked body and covered her with the duvet. She looked precious against his dark sheets.

  Dmitri had never expected this force of emotion, inquisitive and protective. Her experience of new pleasure excited him. His mastery of her gave him purpose. Her blushing and innocence made him smile. Her melting under his touch made him feel powerful.

  He liked all of that.

  He wanted to feel more of it.

  Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, she moaned and snuggled into his touch. “You make me do strange things, think odd thoughts, and you force me to break my own rules.”

  Another moan.

  He leaned down, pressed his lips against her soft cheek, and stated a promise. “I intend to find out why.”

  * * *

  A pleasing scent swept through Presley’s nostrils, and against her body she felt something warm but hard. She blinked, pulled herself out of her sleepy haze, and saw above her a ceiling with large dark wooden beams.

  Not my house.

  Next to her was a lamp on the end table casting the room in a soft glow. She noticed she lay in a bed surrounded by gorgeous cherrywood furniture. A large red carpet rested at the foot of a fireplace on the far side of the room, with a burgundy chaise in front.

  Not my bedroom.

  Turning her head on the pillow to her right, she restrained her gasp. Undoubtedly, the warmness had been Dmitri, and the hardness his toned body pressed against hers. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Good Lord . . .

  Heat flared in her body as Dmitri’s physique filled her vision. Her fingers twitched to explore the valleys of his bare, muscular chest and smooth wide shoulders, and to slide her touch down his ripped abdomen.

  Trying to control her desire to caress his flesh, she forced herself to recall what had happened and how she’d ended up in his bed. Looking away from the display of masculine perfection sleeping next to her, she caught sight of the clock on the bedside table informing her that it was three in the morning.

  Oh, God, I fell asleep on him.

  With full awareness, the memory of their incredible flogging scene and the huge-ass orgasm she wouldn’t forget anytime soon rushed into her mind. The last thing she remembered was their conversation after the scene, and . . .

  “I’ve never felt so comfortable, so calm, or so centered with anyone as I do with you now.”

  Tightness formed in her chest, and ice slid through her veins, removing any of the heat that seeing Dmitri half-nude had built. Cora had told her the D/s relationship was intense, but she hadn’t expected that. She never thought he’d make her feel so safe that she could bare her soul.

  Dmitri had never made any promises and had stated their agreement well enough. She’d talked to him as if she held some sort of place in his heart. Her heart pounded in her ears as the awful memory of her crying in his arms returned with vengeance, the thought utterly mortifying.

  He had agreed to be her Dom, to give her a scene to rock her world, not listen to her blubbering all over him. The arrangement had been to train her, and sharing her emotional state hadn’t been part of it.

  Her pathetic emotions must’ve made him do things he normally wouldn’t have, but why was she in his bedroom? They weren’t in a relationship, and there was no reason for her to sleep in his bed. Cora had never slept over at a Dom’s house, or so Presley believed, since she’d never been away from home in the three months Presley had lived with her.

  Dmitri’s arm was draped over Presley’s waist, and even now he wrapped her in the same safe feeling he had last night. He breathed heavily in sleep, and she couldn’t help but note that he looked kind of . . . cute. He’d been so dominant in the scene and commanded her with fierceness, making her tummy flip-flop, but she had the urge to kiss his
puffy lips.

  Heck, no!

  He wore black cotton pajama bottoms with the duvet tangled between his legs. Unable to help herself, she scanned the lines of his body, mesmerized by the view. He might look sweet while he slept, but she couldn’t deny that he was all delicious man.

  No!

  She yanked herself away from ogling him, even ignored how her instincts told her to stay. With gentle care, holding her breath, she lifted his arm off her waist and slipped out of the bed, immediately realizing—from the cool air brushing over her skin in intimate places—that she was stark naked.

  Scanning the room in a quick sweep, she noticed her clothes were neatly folded on top of the red chaise with her shoes resting on the floor. She tiptoed toward her clothes, didn’t dare breathe, and gathered her items in haste.

  She took a quick peek over her shoulder at Dmitri, who remained sound asleep. Light as a feather, she finished her escape, tiptoeing quietly through the room to the bedroom door. Gritting her teeth, praying it wouldn’t make a noise, she gently turned the handle. She couldn’t face him right now.

  No wonder Steven had cheated. She was a basket case. Now Dmitri had seen it, too. Why couldn’t she have skipped the aftercare bit and gone home? Humiliation made her think only about getting the hell out of there.

  Click.

  The door whooshed open, and she bolted into the hallway in a second flat. Pulling the door closed behind her, she left it slightly ajar, not wanting to chance the noise waking him, then she hurried through the hallway.

  With her clothes in hand, she hightailed down the huge wooden staircase and rushed past the dining room. Heading straight for his office, she said a silent oath in hopes that there was a phone where she thought she’d seen one that first night with Dmitri.

  Once she entered his large office, her gaze skipped to the desk, and she sighed, so glad she’d been right.

  Call a cab and forget this embarrassing episode ever happened!