Claimed (12 page)

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!

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, Dmitri pressed his hands against the roof of his car and exhaled a controlled breath, glancing outside from the garage. Dark clouds sweeping across the sky matched his mood. He’d woken to discover that Presley had left sometime in the night.

He wanted answers, and he wanted them now
.

Dmitri had never had a submissive behave so disrespectfully, and he wasn’t sure if his harsh reaction was for that reason alone or if it centered on Presley herself. His experience with her last night had warranted a deeper look, and instead of doing that, he was chasing her down with irritation burning his blood. How could she have logically thought her behavior was acceptable? Or that he wouldn’t lose his mind at what she’d done?

He opened his car door, dropped into the plush bucket seat, and started the engine. With a squeal of his tires, he tore out of the garage and booked it through the wrought-iron gates just as they opened. The engine revved beneath his heavy foot, and he cursed any red light that got in his way.

Las Vegas streets whipped by his window; he took the back roads to avoid the Strip traffic. He knew these streets well and pushed the car to excessive speeds in the industrial area, quiet on Sunday morning.

Within fifteen minutes, he rounded onto East Silverado Ranch Boulevard, in a neighborhood close to the Strip. He glanced down the row of houses, and when he saw number twenty-four, he pulled over at the curb.

Turning off the ignition, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, catching a whiff of the aroma from the leather seats in his car. The man in him wanted to call Presley out and demand answers, but the Dom knew better. Lashing out wasn’t his way. Issuing a stern portrayal of his dominance and stating his position on what she’d done, followed by punishment later, was his resolve.

Once the tension in his chest had faded, he exited the car and approached the two-story home with the cherry-red door. At the front door, he knocked, and the sound of heavy footsteps barreled toward him before the door whisked open.

Cora stood on the other side, dressed in a purple cotton T-shirt and light blue jeans. She wore no makeup, and her hair was pulled into a loose bun on top of her head. He’d never seen her so dressed down. She appeared much more innocent than the submissive he’d grown used to seeing in the dungeon.

A smile had turned up the corners of her mouth, but as she took in who stood at her door, she frowned. “Master Dmitri?”

“Hello, Cora,” he replied, pleased that his voice was controlled. “Outside of Club Sin, I’m Dmitri. May I come in?”

Apparently, he had stunned her. She didn’t move for a long awkward moment, then she blinked a few times before she opened the door wider. “Of course, please do.”

Dmitri entered the home, noting that it was much like the woman he knew, neat and orderly, though the design was modern and edgy. He stood in the entranceway, and the open concept showed off the living room with the bright kitchen. The hallway to his left, he suspected, led to the bedrooms. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you, si—” She smiled, giving him a sheepish glance through her lashes. “Thanks. Do you need a drink, coffee or tea?”

“No, I’m fine.”

She headed into the living room, and Dmitri followed. Once she sat on the white couch, he dropped down next to her and listened for a moment. He didn’t hear any noise coming from the rest of the house. As far as he could tell, Presley was nowhere in sight.

He looked to Cora just as she shifted in her seat and fiddled with her hands. Her head remained bowed to her lap when she asked, “Have I done something wrong? Is that why you’ve come?”

Normally, he’d never come to a sub’s house without asking permission, and he hated the disgrace crossing her features. “I apologize that I’ve showed up unannounced. Even more so, that you think you’ve done something wrong.” He waited for her to lift her head and noticed the worry clearing from her eyes. “I’ve come to speak to Presley. Is she here?”

Cora stretched out her fingers, then she shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, she’s not. The dental office she works at does urgent care on Sundays, and someone called in sick, so she took the half-day shift.” She hesitated, nibbled her bottom lip. “Has she done something wrong?”

“Yes, I would say so,” he retorted. “Sometime during the nighttime, Presley sneaked out of my house.”

Cora’s eyes widened. “She did not!”

“She did.”

Cora’s brows drew together. “I’m not sure what happened last night. Presley never said anything to me about it this morning, or that she left your house without you knowing.” A small smile curved her mouth. “She did tell me her first scene had been incredible and that you were amazing.”

Then why did she run?

Dmitri placed his arms on his legs, glanced down at the hardwood beneath his shoes, and tried to wrap his mind around her words to Cora. Her actions made no sense if she’d enjoyed herself. He considered what he’d seen from Presley and suspected she’d overthought things. Why had she gotten defensive and obviously worried over something he’d done?

Bottom line, he wondered what had gone through her mind when she ran out. Did she think he didn’t want her in his bed, or had she left because she didn’t want to be there with him? He discovered that that thought didn’t please him in the least.

What did please him was that Presley had been with Cora this morning and hadn’t been alone, although it was his duty, as her Dom, to be there when she woke. It irritated him that, even without knowing it, she had refused him a right that belonged to him.

No matter how many ways he spun it, he couldn’t make sense of her leaving him last night. For him to proceed with Presley, he needed to understand her better. Lifting his head to Cora, he set to doing exactly that. “How did you meet Presley?”

Cora leaned back into the couch and pulled one leg underneath her. “I have friends—not in the lifestyle—who run in the same circle as her ex-boyfriend, Steven. We met at a party the first week she moved to Vegas, and the friendship stuck.” She hesitated. “Good thing we found each other, too, since not long after that, she found out Steven had cheated on her with this skank.” Cora’s eyes went huge, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Dmitri smirked at the horror on Cora’s face. “It’s all right.” He doubted she’d ever talk to him in that manner in the dungeon, and he suspected she hadn’t meant to say what she had. “Please continue.”

Cora lowered her hand. “It was actually really sad—Presley was so heartbroken.” Her pain for her friend was apparent in the hard lines of her frown. “I think if anything, it made her feel like she wasn’t enough for him, you know?”

His heart sank, and now he fully understood. He assumed Presley had fought through her nerves not for herself or because of her desire to join the dungeon but to be the woman she thought she wasn’t, the woman she thought Steven wouldn’t have cheated on, and that was a damn shame.