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And I’ve claimed a victory of my own.
“Where’s the dungeon?” I ask Victor as we step into the elevator. I have a theory, but I want him to confirm it.
“In the basement.”
I knew it.
He hovers a long finger over the button for the lower floor before he presses the one to take us to the top.
He takes me to the bathroom and positions me in front of the sink. His big hands roam over me, checking for blood, bruises, and tender spots. I took a moment in the bathroom at Royal’s mansion to dust off the worst of the wood splinters and debris that coated my dress and hair from the explosion.
The worst of my wounds are carried over from my time in captivity—the letters carved above my heart. When Victor tackled me to protect me from the explosion, I crashed to the ground. The force broke the fragile skin, and the letters he carved were bleeding again.
I pull down the dress’s square neckline and push my sword necklace aside so Victor can remove the dirty bandage. He growls as he fusses over the marks.
“You’re the one who did this to me.” I roll my eyes at his muttered curses. “It’ll heal.” I stop him before he covers the cuts with another bandage. “Wait. Let me see something.”
I point to the letters carved into my chest. The V is the easiest letter to read. Next to it, in the same size script, is the letter R.
I studied them when Victor left me but didn’t understand. The V is obvious: V for Victor. But the second letter. . . “R? What’s your last name?”
“I have none,” he says. “Not anymore. I figured I could take yours.”
I drop my hand, my arm muscles suddenly too weak to hold it up. “Romano?”
“Or Regis. Your mother was a Regis, correct?”
“She was.”
“And here I am, part of the Regis family. If you and your cousin will have me.”
“He will accept you.” He will if I have any say in it.
“You saved me from him.” His touch is tender on my cheek.
“Yes.” I turn fully and rise to tiptoes to thread my arms around his broad shoulders. I pull him down until his lips brush mine and whisper, “If anyone is going to kill you, it’s going to be me.”
He straightens, lifting me off my feet as he claims my mouth. His kiss is ice and fire, and I savor the solid power of him, rubbing my swelling breasts against his chest. His dick jabs my thigh.
He swivels and sets me on the bathroom counter. I’m already spreading my legs. The dress he gave me was form-fitting but modest enough, with a hem that ends an inch above my knee. I wriggle, trying to pull it up, but it’s too tight and doesn’t budge. Until Victor helps by ripping it in half so it’s open to my navel.
“Yes,” I gasp and scoot forward to the edge of the counter. I’m not wearing underwear. He didn’t give me any earlier today, and after spending so long naked, a bra and panties would feel weird.
Victor’s already opened his pants. The head of his cock is red and angry, dripping pre-cum. He finds my sopping wet entrance and pushes in an inch. I’m squirming, trying to stretch to accommodate him when he digs his hand into my hair to hold me still.
“I will give you everything,” he promises. In one swift move, he pushes inside, spearing me as he wrenches my head back. Bombs explode in my brain. I cum right then, shaking in his grip. He watches me with his icy gaze.
“Krasiva. Mi kama.” He cups my bottom and lifts me so he can sink even deeper, filling the depths of me. My insides stretch around him, slowly accommodating his girth, but nothing can help me get used to his length. At this angle, pressed against him with gravity pulling me down, the head of his cock is knocking on my cervix.
I tear at his shirt collar, sending buttons flying as I rip the dress shirt open so I can fasten my mouth to his neck. I find the cut I made and suck on it, hard. His growl rolls through me, the delicious vibrations making me pulse around him.
“Fuck, Lula. You will be the end of me.”
That’s the idea. I sink my fingers into his hair, bare my teeth, and nip at the vein stretching from his neck to his shoulder. His winter scent swirls around me. Before I can bite him fully, he tugs my head up by my hair, and the sting in my scalp is enough to make me cum again.
Victor’s voice rings savagely in my ears as I convulse, squeezing down on his dick like the orgasm turned my inner muscles into a vice. He sets me back on the counter, pulling out. His shirt’s torn open, his hair disheveled from my fists, and there’s a red mark on his neck from my teeth. His own mouth is contorted into a snarl. He doesn’t look like we’ve been making love. He looks like he’s been in a fight.
He backs away slowly, his dick bobbing in the air. Come, he gestures, and I do, stalking after him, further tearing my dress so I can strip it off as I go. Naked in nothing but stilettos, I wait until he’s reached the bedroom before dropping to my knees. I crawl on all fours, my body swaying sinuously all the way to the bedroom. My breasts swing, the necklace dangling between them. I keep my head up and my gaze on Victor so I can savor the blue flame burning in his eyes. I prowl like an animal on the hunt, like an obedient pet, like a submissive safe in her Dom’s control. My humiliation and his happiness are a delicious heat that warms me through and through.
