Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
She was sold. Now she will be claimed.
When Zoya Zhvania is shipped off to New York and forced into a marriage with powerful Russian mob boss Pavel Petruskenkov, she expects to be treated cruelly. But as she lies naked and helpless before the man who now owns her, still sore from a stern lesson in obedience over his knee, it is not fear that leaves Zoya quivering in her bonds. It is desperate, shameful need…
Need for him.
He will make her beg, scream, and climax until she is sure she can’t possibly handle any more, then whisper in her ear that he is just getting started and she will take everything he gives her.
He is not just going to make her his wife.
He is going to make her his completely.
Author: Isabella Laase
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95
Length: 71,000 words
Excerpt
“You’re afraid, little girl,” he said softly. “I can see it in your eyes, but are you afraid of me or of your own reaction when I chain you to the cross?”
She offered a quick nod as though that answered his question, but it didn’t matter. Since his father had introduced him to this lifestyle many years before, he’d worked with enough new submissives to recognize her confusion. It was her dominant’s role to combine the abject fear over the unknown with the burgeoning arousal buried between her legs. A firm exploration of her tense muscles would further tie her to his control.
As he caressed her, she leaned into his touch in a manner that was totally unacceptable, but he was willing to dismiss her mistake until he’d had a chance to work with her at length. As they’d progressed to this point in their tumultuous relationship, he’d been granting her a great deal of time to make up her mind, but he wanted her to instinctively respond to his every touch and direction without question or hesitation.
He grasped her ass more firmly, leaving a red imprint across her ivory white skin, but she stood still with an obedient resilience and a small gasp. Tweaking her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he simultaneously stroked her already soaking labia. She ground softly into his hand, licking her lips in satisfaction, and her full breasts begged for more attention. With his hand resting at the small of her back, he sucked hard on her stiff nipples, scraping his teeth against the edges.
Whimpering like a kitten, she twisted to take a small step back, making it clear that the time had come for restraining her. The cross in this room was specially made for the club with a simple X pattern and a center leather pad to hold her weight if he chose to lower her to a flat position. Pressing her breasts on either side of the leather pad, he adjusted the bars for her height, fastening her wrists into the cuffs and slapping the insides of her thighs until she spread them far enough to meet the ankle restraints.
Any woman spread-eagle on a St. Andrew’s cross would harden his cock, but with Zoya’s beauty, strength, and sass under his control, for the second time since entering the dungeon, he considered taking her first and tormenting her second. No matter how tempted he was, however, he wouldn’t rush the experience. For a woman as independent as Zoya, giving herself to another would be her biggest challenge, and, of course, transform into her greatest reward, making this session essential in establishing her trust.
“Are you frightened, little girl?” he asked, rubbing his hand across her ass.
She spoke softly. “You will have to do better than this to frighten me.”
Describing the pleasure of delivering to a submissive the unique combination of pain and pleasure was almost impossible, but Zoya was clearly ready to fulfill his needs. He rubbed his hand across her ass before delivering a hard spank. She yelped at the unexpected correction, but immediately closed her eyes to embrace the warmth.
He slipped a velvety soft black blindfold over her eyes. “You don’t need to stare at a concrete wall to enjoy this,” he murmured, as her muscles tensed, and she pulled at her restraints with another whimper. “Focus your energy on your remaining senses, the sound of my voice and the touch of my hand.” He slid his palm through her wet channel and placed his fingers on her lips. “Open for me, pet. Taste what your pussy has given you.”
In another sign that she didn’t truly trust him, she paused, but he would gain her blind submission before the evening was over. Nudging his finger forward, he rubbed her lips until she accepted him. He stroked her vulva with long, sensual caresses and she finally latched on to his fingers, sucking with an urgency that made him chuckle.
“Good girl.” He rewarded her with a quick rub over her clit. “But let’s begin our first lesson. You will never even attempt to deceive me, little girl, because your subservience will form the basis of our relationship. Only one of us will be in charge, and that person will be me. Do you understand?”
The post Sold to the Russian: A Dark Mafia Romance by Isabella Laase appeared first on Stormy Night Publications.