Mine Page 4

  “I need to deal with this, Presley. There is a lot going on. You must understand.”

  “I do understand. What I don’t get is why won’t you talk to me about it.” She moved closer toward him, pulled by the desperate need to reconnect. She craved for them to return to some level of what they once had only days ago, something that was unexplainable, perfect. “Let me be here for you.”

  “No.”

  His curt voice stopped her in her tracks. Then when he added, “I don’t want to talk about this. I want to fix it,” the remaining strands holding her together snapped.

  Yes, she expected a Dom answer. But deep in her heart she thought there was more to their love than a D/s relationship. Still, his answers, his actions, were making her believe that he wanted a submissive both in the dungeon and out of it.

  And that’s not want she wanted.

  Also, it wasn’t what she had agreed to.

  Betrayal slid through her like a disease, and she trembled with the force of it. She loved submission and found freedom in letting go, but only in the bedroom or in the dungeon. Her parents had shown her what true love was—a relationship built on strong trust, communication, and respect—and that’s what she wanted for herself. Not this distance where Dmitri kept his pain to himself instead of sharing it with her.

  Tears welled, and she barely managed, “You’re breaking my heart, Dmitri.”

  His head finally lifted. Desolate eyes stared back at her. “Right now, doll, we don’t have the luxury to think of ourselves.”

  She cringed at those words. Yet somehow it was exactly what she needed to hear. He spoke the truth. And it was sad. Dmitri always put everyone else first, and Presley knew all his strain was because he was thinking of Charles, of what the club symbolized, and of the members who now feared being exposed.

  Her mind raced to think of a way to help him. “What do you need me to do? I want to be there for you. I don’t want you to shut me out.”

  His expression tightened. “You want to help me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She shivered against the power blazing in his eyes. Not only because he looked lost and desperate, but because he was a Dominant. Dmitri was a man who believed he’d failed all the people he’d vowed to protect. His club meant everything to him, yet Club Sin was slipping through his fingers. She craved for him to lean on her now, not push her away. To share what this was doing to him.

  So that, just maybe, she could help him.

  Looking at his expression, she realized there was one thing she could do for him. Maybe it was part desperation on her part, too, but she needed him close. She couldn’t stand this distance any longer. Doing the only thing she could do for him now, she dropped the robe from around her shoulders, exposing her naked body to her Dom. She offered her warmth in hopes that it would envelop him and ease the coldness in his soul.

  Concern knitted his eyebrows. His shoulders lowered when she reached him and she inhaled his musky scent, sliding her hands around his strong neck. To her utter relief, he leaned into her, resting his head against her chest. She tightened her arms around him, hoping to clear away his despair.

  She racked her mind trying to find the right thing to say, finally deciding on, “It’s only a club, Dmitri.”

  His glass clanked against the table, and he rose so fast she had to take a step back. Eyes blazing, he growled, “What did you just say to me?”

  She blinked at the wrath he exuded, an emotion she had never experienced coming from her lover. Presley’s trembling hands came up to his chest, and she could feel his heart pumping beneath her fingers. “It’s not the club that makes Club Sin, it’s the people in it. We still have all of them. I know you think this is the end of what you created in Charles’s honor, but it’s not.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’ve let my members down.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not your fault,” she said, much more loudly and angrily than she intended. “I’m sick of you taking the blame.”

  Dmitri’s brow arched, his scotch-laden breath brushing across her face. “Whose fault would it be then, doll?”

  “The damn person who took the pictures,” she shouted.

  She wasn’t even sure whom she was shouting at: Dmitri or the person behind this scandal. She despised all of it—the photos, the distance between them, the anger Dmitri was suffering, and the blame he’d taken on. “You need to stop letting it fuck with your head. I know this is terrible, but we’ll deal with it—whatever happens.”

  Darkness crossed Dmitri’s expression, an expression so icy it might scare a woman. That was, if she didn’t know that Dmitri, while Dominant, was insanely respectful and loving. He closed the distance between them as fast as she could draw in a breath. His chin dipped, those stony eyes coming level with hers. “While life at the moment is uncertain, Presley, it would do you good to remember that I am your Dom. A Dom who doesn’t appreciate the tone you just took.”

  Red-hot fury stirred in her veins, possibly because life was so uncertain, leaving her wondering where they would end up. “Well, I am your submissive only in the dungeon and in the bedroom.” The cool air in the room rushed across her flustered skin. “I don’t appreciate being ignored and left out of everything.” What about me? she wanted to yell at him.

  Her voice became louder, splintering with the anger that all the things he’d promised were now being forgotten. “Stop pushing me away. I am your partner—your best friend. And yet you are talking to everyone else instead of sharing all this with me.” She poked his chest, glaring up into his face. “You are being a real jerk, Dmitri.”

  Brows raised, his gaze turned darker, smokier. “Do. Not. Raise. Your. Voice. At. Me.”

  “Do. Not. Ignore. Me,” she retorted in the same deadly calm tone.

  Sure, she knew she was poking the beast, but she had more than enough. While there were a hundred excuses for the way he was acting, none mattered to her.

  He had made promises to her. Promises that he would never hurt her. And he was breaking them all.

  A low growl rumbled from deep in his chest, and those eyes…oh, how they burned.

  One second she was standing there, almost nose to nose with him. The next he was slamming her against the wall and his lips were crushing hers.

  Raw.

  Primal.

  Heartbreaking.

  Not because his kiss wasn’t passionate, but because his touch was desperate.

  And Dmitri never leaked that emotion.

  The power play was there, burning like wildfire. The loss of control was nearly dripping into the air. The insecurity of the future sizzled around them; it was an emotion they both understood, yet both despised.

  His breath roughly brushed across her face as his tongue thrust into her mouth, as if to clear away the words she’d spoken. A fierce kiss to steal the anger in her body and replace it with heat. He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, grinding himself against her. Not in a sensual way—no, this was pure unadulterated lust.

  He nudged her head to the side, nipping at her neck, but not to mark her as his. It was almost as if he was fighting to remind himself of his love for her, searching for the man he used to be. Her eyes pinched shut against the sadness of it all, and she battled to find the Dmitri she knew. The Dmitri she loved. She prayed that him touching her now would help him find his way back to her.

  So out of control and so rough in his advances, the man devouring her neck with vicious kisses was a man she had never met before. Some might think it was just hot, spontaneous sex, but to her, Dmitri seemed like a stranger.

  He never lost control.

  A squeak escaped her mouth and her eyes shot open, tears prickling her eyes. He had both of her wrists in one hand, and seemed to be unaware she was on the verge of crying as he hastily removed his pants. When he grabbed her thigh painfully tight, yanking it over his hip, she gasped.

  Who are you?

  His cock pressed against her entrance, and her ey
es widened in surprise as he thrust inside her, not caring or acknowledging the fact that she wasn’t entirely prepared for him. His skin slid against her dry inner walls, and he bit her lip, as if telling her the state she was in was unacceptable. But emotions were raging, and she was tumbling into confusion. She wanted to help him, free him from his demons, and ground him again.

  He loved her. He respected her. He protected her.

  But this wasn’t her Dmitri.

  Her mind battled to make sense out of what was happening now. He had never touched her without care or without thought of her emotional state. It all left her so shocked she couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, and couldn’t even breathe. She thought the moment he touched her, he’d return to her. But that wasn’t what happened.

  When he grasped her breast firmly, she parted her lips, prepared to tell him to stop. Never before had Dmitri made her feel used or unappreciated, but that sensation engulfed her now. Tears ran down her face. Her body betrayed her and moistened for him. He growled a feral sound, thrusting easier, moving fast, and pumping into her.

  Yet her mind recoiled. Part of her knew he needed to shed his demons and that this was a way to do it. The other part of her realized if she allowed this to happen, they could never go back. Things would be forever changed between them.

  He wasn’t thinking of her; he was thinking only of himself and his needs. The moment she realized he wasn’t coming back to her, instead remaining so far away, it sickened her, sending a cold bite washing through her. He thrust only for his orgasm and only to shed the tension inside of him. Her breath caught on a sob, and her mind snapped back.

  This was wrong.

  “Dmitri,” she managed, attempting to yank her wrists away. This would break their special bond. It wouldn’t save him from his hell. It would send him into a different type of hell, where he’d hate himself.

  His hold tightened. She pulled harder, demanding to break free, nearly hoping it would snap him out of this dark state. She wanted her Dmitri. The man she loved, not this man crumbling to pieces.

  He kissed her mouth, stealing her objections. Rough and filled with tension, his affections lacked the passion Dmitri usually held for her. Tears soaked her face as she stilled beneath him, feeling lost in his complete breakdown. His thrusts were frantic and her world unraveled.

  Stop.

  If she didn’t stop this now, they would never recover. He’d never forgive himself for losing control with her. And she would never trust him again. He might be breaking down, but Presley wasn’t.

  As he thrust savagely against her, her heart crashed and burned. What happened next would be something she could never take back. He’d also given her no other choice. She began to say Club Sin’s safe word: “Drag—”

  His primal growl cut her off as he crushed his mouth against hers. So drawn into himself, he was unaware of anything around him. Digging her fingernails into his hands, she screamed, “Dragon.” Then she bit his lip hard. He cursed, and the second he released her wrists she pushed him away.

  The shove sent him two steps back.

  Breathless, his chest rose and fell. Her arousal glistened against his hard cock, with veins protruding the sides. Tears continued down her cheeks, and Dmitri blinked once…then again…before his eyes widened. Shock, disappointment, and a dark emotion were reflected in their depths.

  “Jesus Christ,” he spat out. His face haunted, he took a step toward her, and then stopped himself. His empty expression met hers, and it was in that second, she became aware of how far away Dmitri was from her. How far away he was from himself.

  His breakdown ran deeper than the loss of his club. This was a man who was broken, and even now, even after what had just happened, her heart only ached for him. Because tonight Dmitri wasn’t with her; a darker part of him was. Her Dmitri, the other part of him, was sickened by what had happened between them just now, as the tears welling in his eyes suggested.

  “I’m so sorry, Presley.” His hands shook as he pulled up his pants.

  “Come back to me,” she begged.

  He refastened his belt, head bowed. “I can’t do this.” His voice was empty, flat. “I…” He finally lifted his head, and she nearly wept at the pain that lay present in his eyes. So much passed through his expression—the horror at what he’d done to her and the acknowledgment that he had now failed her even more. “That loss of control can never happen again.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling deep in her soul. “Please don’t leave me now.”

  “That was unforgivable. Completely fucking despicable.” His shoulders slumped before he added softly, “You deserve better than this. I can’t give you what you need right now.”

  “No!” she shouted at him, chilly to her bones. “I didn’t safe-word to create more distance. I safe-worded to bring you back to me.” She had wanted to show him how lost he was and how broken he’d become. More important, she wanted to stop him from touching her without emotion and forcing him to realize how much she needed him to touch her the way he usually did.

  But it was too late.

  He opened the front door and left.

  She slid to the ground, grabbing the robe from the floor and wrapping it around her shoulders. Coldness sank into her as she stared at the shut door, absorbing the silence in the room and feeling more alone than ever. Tears spilled over her cheeks, and then hard sobs broke free from her chest.

  You promised you would never hurt me.

  You lied.

  Chapter 4

  Driving along the quiet streets of Las Vegas, Dmitri downshifted his black BMW sports car. Usually he enjoyed the low purr of the engine, but not tonight. Kyler’s phone call twenty minutes ago indicating that he’d discovered who was behind the leak made Dmitri clutch the steering wheel, looking for the speed and power he was anxious for. He preferred to be on the road right now rather than in his office, reeling with culpability. One question playing over and over in his mind: What the fuck had he done to Presley? He’d taken all his stress, worry, and upset out on her, and she deserved none of it. And she’d safed out. She had never done that before, and the thought that he had brought her to that level sickened him.

  This situation was fucking with his head.

  He’d built Club Sin to honor his mentor, Charles, who’d passed away from cancer nearly six years ago. All the lessons he’d learned from Charles rushed through his mind. Dmitri had had the utmost respect for Charles. His behavior tonight would have disappointed Charles terribly.

  Dmitri had placed himself over his submissive’s needs, something he hadn’t done since before Charles began mentoring him. Christ, he had entered the BDSM lifestyle to ensure that he kept a firm grip on himself. Through his teen years, he’d been emotionally unstable—one second happy, the next flying off the handle in annoyance. Charles had helped Dmitri became centered. The BDSM lifestyle had helped Dmitri become a man.

  Tonight, his head hadn’t been focused on her. As a Dom, he knew that was despicable. More important, he had used her for his selfish needs, which was something he’d sworn he would never do.

  Guilt and anger had him pressing the brake and slowing the car. The dark night lay close around him, with only streetlights cutting through the blackness on the quiet road. Cursing to himself, he parked at the curb next to the Spanish-style house.

  He sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest. She’d pulled her safe word. Disappointment ached in his chest, yet he remained proud that Presley knew to use it. She knew what she deserved, and it wasn’t him fucking her like a horny teenager unable to control himself. Pulling in his emotions, he knew he had to fix what had happened tonight with Presley.

  He owed her an apology…and so much more.

  With his heart clenching in his chest, he stared at the house. The living room lights were on, while the rest of the house was bathed in darkness. Dmitri knew he had something to finish before he returned to Presley. There was more to do tonight before he took her in his
arms, sharing the depth of the guilt he suffered now over Club Sin’s problems and admitting to her that the world that he’d expertly crafted was falling apart. And that he also felt like he was spiraling out of control, with the concern for his members and his beloved club ripping him apart.

  Perhaps he hadn’t realized how closed off he’d been, but not sharing with her hadn’t done him any good either. And, more important, it had forced his submissive to push him away. He’d seen the devastated look in her eyes before he left—a horrified look that would forever haunt him.

  One that he would ensure he never saw again.

  Determined to get back to her, he exited the car and approached Kyler and Ella’s house. He moved toward the front door, having noticed the other Club Sin Masters’ vehicles parked at the curb.

  He knocked on the front door, probably louder than was necessary. The door immediately opened to Kyler. The other Club Sin Master’s eyes were tight with concern. “Good. You’re here.” Kyler stepped away from the door, allowing Dmitri entrance.

  Dmitri took off his shoes at the door, and then strode behind Kyler into the large living room. He noted the change in décor since he’d been here last and assumed Ella had been decorating the home. It had a much more comfortable feel. Dmitri couldn’t imagine Kyler shopping for the large mirror above the fireplace, nor could he picture him buying the vase of flowers resting on the coffee table in between the dark gray couches. He glanced around the room at the other Club Sin Masters, either seated on the couch or in the chairs. Everyone looked about as tired as he felt.

  “All right.” Kyler dropped down onto the loveseat next to Porter. “No matter what I say here, we need to be quiet. Ella and Andie are sleeping.”

  Dmitri nodded in understanding. Kyler’s young daughter, Andie, was awake more than she slept, and even Dmitri had noticed the signs of Ella’s fatigue. Dmitri lowered himself onto the couch next to Aidan. “Go ahead.”