The Bratva's Captive_A Dark Mafia Romance_Wicked Doms by Jane Henry

Author:Jane Henry [Henry, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Maksym

I've scanned the perimeter of this cabin looking for any signs of a threat but have seen none. Shepherd is alert and trots off into the forest but comes back hanging his head after a few minutes. I look for any clue that might show me if someone's been here or not, but I find nothing. I'm preoccupied when I return to the cabin.

Someone tried to kill her the night before. Are they after us? Will they try to hurt her again?

My whole body clenches at the thought of an intruder coming in. Coming after her.

Touching her.

I'm ready to kill.

So when I return to the cabin, my first thought is to be sure she's still safe. No one's come in, and she's in the bed where I told her to go. She gives me a strange look; one I can't comprehend. Pity?

But I don't bother dwelling on it. Now that we're momentarily safe, we both need sleep. Shepherd is a natural guard, lying down by the door, his head on his paws but ears perked up. Watchful. And it reassures me a little, knowing I'm not the only one to defend us should it come to that.

And now that night has fallen, I think about sleeping arrangements and groan out loud. Christ. I hadn't planned on this.

There are no couches for me to crash on, and the bare wooden floor of the cabin won't suit me either. Last night when we shared a bed, I almost choked her. I can't risk that again.

Maybe I need something to help me sleep. Thankfully, Demyan had my bags packed with a small bottle of vodka I've already stored in the freezer.

"Get ready for bed," I tell Olena. "And no clothes."

She doesn't even protest as she strips her clothes off and heads to the bathroom. With her back to me, I can see the faint pink evidence of the spanking I gave her earlier. My stomach tightens, my dick hard. I want to fuck this woman from behind, her reddened skin beneath me, so badly my balls ache.

Taya was adamantly opposed to anything forceful. Our lovemaking was sweet, tender, passionate, and although I longed to try darker, more taboo things, and we did dabble, she never agreed to more than a tame spanking. She hated being tied up, and even the spanking did nothing for her. I accepted this as a part of our relationship, a trade-off for being with the woman I loved. But now that Olena is mine—my sadistic tendencies no longer subdued—my desire for more burns as hot as a bonfire within me.

Oh, what I could do to this woman.

I strip to my boxers as she finishes getting ready, gather up the dirty clothes, and toss them in a wicker hamper by the bathroom door. When she returns, her face is pink and freshly scrubbed, her hair falling about her shoulders in curls. And she's done what I asked: she wears nothing but the marks of the spanking I gave her.

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