Untamed (Bratva Kings #2)

Chapter 10

RODION

She didn’t like it, but I put the mask back on.

I like how she acts when I wear it.

“This is not what I had in mind,” she says with an adorable frown. I stifle a smirk.

When I told her there was a lesson I had to teach her, I could tell exactly what she had in mind by the way her eyes lit up. It made me almost pull her over my knee right then and there because I know she craves it. I've watched the videos. I've seen her reactions. I’ve hacked into her e-reader and read every section she’s highlighted and recommended since I found her. I've seen the stitches incoming where she talks about being overpowered and punished by a strong, preferably masked man.

I know that some of this is only fantasy, but I also want to make sure she’s prepared. It's important that we know how to defend ourselves.

“So tell me. Who’s Shawn?”

I know what I found out, but I want to hear what she has to say in her own words. Her whole body freezes. Just for a second. Just enough for me to see the truth in her eyes before she schools her face into something defiant.

“How do you know that name?”

“I asked a question first.” My voice drops, low and calm, the kind of calm that precedes a storm. She hates it—I can see the flash of anger in her face—but I don’t care. Not when I’ve seen the texts. Not when I know something isn’t right.

“It’s none of your business,” she snaps, wrapping her arms around herself like it’ll protect her.

“Wrong.” I take a step toward her, closing the space between us, the mask making me feel sharper, colder—like a weapon. “he won’t leave you alone, and you’re mine, so he’s making it my business.”

Her chin tilts up stubbornly, but her voice trembles when she speaks. “And what exactly are you going to do about it? Beat him up? Kill him?”

“If I need to.” The words hang between us, heavy and unshakable. I mean it, and she knows it.

She scoffs, even as her cheeks color, turning on her heel and pacing to the other side of the room. “I don’t need your hero complex, Rodion. I can handle him, you know.”

I love hearing her say my name, even when she’s angry.

I want to hear it again.

“Maybe you can, maybe you can’t,” I snap, sharper than I intended. She flinches, and I force myself to breathe, to pull back from the edge. “Not yet.” My voice softens, though the mask keeps it cold. “But I’m going to teach you.”

She spins to face me, her green eyes blazing. I want to grab her chin and force her eyes to mine before I claim her mouth and teach her manners. “Teach me what , exactly?”

“To fight. This is why we’re having your first lesson in self-defense.”

Her laugh is sharp, almost self-deprecating, but there’s an edge of something—self-doubt maybe—underneath. “You’re crazy.”

“And you’re reckless,” I bite back, closing the distance between us again. She doesn’t back away this time, her gaze darting between my mask and my eyes. When her pupils dilate and she visibly swallows, it only confirms what I already know. Ember’s fucking turned on. “You don’t know what you’re up against, little queen. You don’t even know how to defend yourself. I’m not always going to be there to stop someone from touching you.”

“Oh yeah?” she challenges. “I’ve studied self-defense. I work out, hard.” Her voice is husky as she licks her lips and meets my gaze. I step forward before she can react, crowding her space. Her breath catches, and she raises her small hand as if on instinct to warn me off, but her movement is slow and wide. With barely an effort, I grab her wrist without hurting her, just enough to immobilize.

Her body stiffens, her eyes locking onto mine. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Proving a point,” I murmur. I twist her wrist slightly more, shifting her balance so she stumbles forward, her chest brushing against mine. When her free hand hovers between us, it’s as if she’s unsure whether she wants to fight or flee.

I know what I fucking want. I’m holding myself back, but I want to prove this point.

“Let me go,” she demands, but the tremor in her voice gives her away. A stray strand of hair crosses her face, and she blows her breath at it to get it out of her mouth with an angry frown.

“Break the grip. Don’t pull,” I command, guiding her wrist out of my hold before releasing her. She stumbles back, rubbing her arms, her cheeks flushed. Even though she glares at me, I can tell her confidence is shaken. “You didn’t give me a chance?—”

“Exactly my point.” When I step closer, this time, she doesn’t retreat. “In a real fight, there are no chances. You get one move. If you don’t make it count… you lose.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak, just stands there, her chest rising and falling, the frustration in her gaze evident.

“Still think you know self-defense?”

“Fuck you.”

“Careful, little queen.” I shake my head, holding her gaze. “You’re treading deep water.”

She swallows hard, her throat bobbing as she looks up at me. “And what makes you think I’ll let you teach me anything?”

I lean in closer, the mask making my words feel darker, heavier. “Because you know I’m right.”

“My god, you’re arrogant.”

“I know your favorite coffee order and your favorite books. It took all my self-restraint not to go to the house of the bastard who bullied you online—and yeah, I got his address, but I held myself back—to teach him a lesson in respecting you. And you thought I wouldn’t check out a real-life threat to you?”

I shake my head. Silence follows, broken only by her sharp inhale. Then, finally, she sighs, biting her bottom lip as she considers.

“Fine. But no weird power-trip bullshit, okay? Just show me what to do. Please,” she amends.

I give her a half smile. “Whatever you say, little queen.”

We clear a space in her tiny living room—not that there’s much room to clear. I shrug off my jacket, toss it onto her couch, and roll up my sleeves. I don’t miss the way she watches me warily, her hands twitching like she’s ready to defend herself already.

When I point to the space in front of me, a shadow crosses her features. “Come here.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Good,” I say, my voice taut. “Trusting me would be stupid.”

“You make no sense.”

“You’re a walking contradiction yourself, and I don’t have time for games. Now come here. ”

Jesus, my palm itches to smack her ass.

Reluctantly, she steps into my space, standing stiff as a board. “Now what?”

“First lesson: confidence,” I say, moving behind her. She jumps slightly when my hands settle on her hips—not tight, but firm enough to reposition her. I love the way her hips feel under my touch, warm and supple.

Christ. I bring myself back to our lesson with effort.

“Never look vulnerable. Stand up straight.”

She exhales sharply, her shoulders rising. “Like this?”

“Better,” I murmur, my voice quieter now. I step back to study her stance. “Relax.”

“Hard to relax when you’re supposed to be trusting yet not trusting your fake Bratva boyfriend while being confident and not vulnerable yet relaxed. Am I supposed to be turned on? Angry? On edge?”

I huff out a quiet laugh while I walk in front of her. “Yes. Now. Hit me.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide. “What?”

“Hit me,” I repeat, spreading my arms. “Come on, Ember. You want to fight? Show me what you’ve got.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Crazy, ridiculous, insane. I’ve heard worse. You need to learn.” When she doesn’t, I egg her on. “You afraid of me? You can’t do it?”

Before she can argue, I grab her wrist—not hard, just enough to startle her. She gasps, her body stiffening as I hold her still.

“What do you do now?” I ask, my voice a low rumble.

Her lips part, but no words come. She pulls at her wrist, trying to yank free, but I don’t let go.

“Wrong,” I say softly, loosening my grip just enough to guide her. “Remember what I said before. You don’t pull. You break .” I twist her hand sharply, showing her how to free herself. “Quick, sharp. Then go for the weak spots—wrists, elbows, knees.”

She nods, biting her lip as she tries again. This time, she gets it, breaking free with a triumphant huff.

“Good girl,” I murmur before I can stop myself. Praise wells in my chest.

Her smile falters, her cheeks flushing. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” I tilt my head. “You like it.”

Her chin in the air, she holds my gaze. “I do not.”

I step closer, towering over her, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Liar.”

Her breath hitches. I love to see the fight in her, the war between fear and something else—something she doesn’t want to admit. I trace a finger down the side of her face. “Are you really telling me you don’t like it?” I shake my head. “I’ve watched your videos, little queen. I know for a fact you fangirl hard over praise kink.” I lift my mask for a moment, lean in, and kiss her cheek. “You’re doing so well, baby. I’m so proud of you.” I nibble her ear and span my hands over her hips. “You’re learning so quickly.”

“Ugh,” she says in a heated whisper. “Mayyyybe…”

I stand up. “Mhm.” I give her ass a sharp slap. “Back to business.”

An hour later, we’re both exhausted, and Ember has shown that she’s a very good student. I feel a little better about the entire situation.

“You hungry?” I ask her, sitting gingerly on the edge of her couch so that I don’t break the damn thing. I’m really not made for an apartment like this. I feel as if I’m walking in a fucking dollhouse. I can barely get through the doorways.

“I don’t usually eat breakfast,” she says, nodding toward her coffee cup. “Coffee is enough.”

“Don’t eat breakfast? Jesus. You have to eat breakfast.”

“But what if I don’t want to?” she snaps, crossing her arms.

“Cut it out, little brat. What if I tell you to?”

“Don’t remember telling you that was your call?”

I roll my eyes. “Keep it up. You’re giving me a good reason to tease our online followers.”

Ember shakes her head. “No way. I think we need to keep up the facade. Keep them guessing. I think we’re both in danger if we start hinting that we’re actually in a relationship with each other because obviously—” She holds up a finger. “We’re still not. Right? Do you get that?”

Oh, I got that. I also saw the way her cheeks flushed when she backtracked, making damn sure I know we’re not a thing.

Ha.

“Whatever.”

We sit back on her couch. More accurately, she sits on her couch, and I teeter on the edge, trying not to break it. I feel like a dad at a parent-teacher conference trying to squeeze his legs under an elementary school desk. It’s ridiculous.

Ember leans back on the couch. “Do you cook, Bratva boy ?”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Call me Bratva boy one more time and see where that lands you.”

The way her eyes light up and her cheeks flush—my dick is totally in favor of this next move.

“I just asked a simple question,” she says in a low, seductive voice. “ Bratva boy .”

I grab her wrists easily with my left hand, engulfing them, and bend her over my lap with no effort. She squeals, but I’m here for it, and she’s so easy to overpower. I grab my phone with no problem whatsoever, flip the video camera on, hit record, and prop it up on one of her little bookshelves. I’m careful to make sure you can’t tell we’re in her place.

“Oh my god!” she says, trying to squirm out of my grip. “Are you recording? What the hell?”

She protests right before I crack my palm across her ass. My palm covers her entire ass. It’s satisfying as fuck.

When she squirms and scissors her legs, my dick approves.

“This is what happens to bad girls who don’t do what they’re told,” I whisper before I lift my palm and crack it across her ass again. “You say you want to be overpowered, and then at the first opportunity, you talk back to me. This is where it’s going to get you. But I think you knew that.”

I spank her again and again until the wriggling slows and her breathing grows heavy. She’s draped over my knee, utterly pliant.

“Didn’t you, little queen?”

“Didn’t I—didn’t I what?” she says in a breathy whisper.

“Know this is where you’d end up?”

“I—” A knock sounds at the door, so loud and sharp the door rattles.

“Ember. I know you’re in there. Open up!”

I wanted to kill Shawn before. Now, I want to make the death slow and painful for his shitty timing, since I still don’t even know what the fucker did to her.

“What perfect timing,” I mutter, sliding her off my lap. I tilt her chin with my finger. “We’re not done here. I’m gonna go get that door.”

“With your mask on?”

I blow out a breath.

The knock sounds again. I reach for the edge of my mask and tug it off in one swoop. I watch as her eyes go wide. She likes when I take it off.

Reaching her hand out to me, she traces my cheek with her index finger. I close my eyes and brace against a well of emotions I wasn’t ready for. “Don’t ever get rid of that mask.”

Fuccck.

I reach for her hand and kiss her palm. “I’m going to get that door.”

I do a mental check of the weapons I have on me but know if this guy is the douchebag I suspect he is, I won’t need anything more than my hands. I’m already a dead man walking with my brother, and I don’t need to push this envelope.

I stride to the door with deliberate slowness, cracking my neck as I reach for the handle. When I swing it open, there’s no mistaking the guy standing there. Shawn looks just as smug and self-satisfied as his texts suggested, tall but shorter than me, blond, clean-shaven, arrogant as fuck.

His confidence falters the second he sees me filling the doorway though. I watch as his brow furrows, and he glances past me, trying to look into the apartment. “Uh, who the hell are you?”

I lean casually against the doorframe, letting him see exactly how much bigger I am. “The better question is, do you typically bang down the door of someone when you’re uninvited?” I cross my arms and shake my head before I cluck my tongue. “Those are terrible manners.”

“Excuse me?” He laughs nervously, attempting to step closer. “I’m here to talk to Ember. This is her place, isn’t it?” Placing his hands on his hips, he tries to stand taller and fails. “What are you, her security or something?”

“Or something.”

I don’t move, keeping my stance loose but unmistakably commanding. Douchebags like him are easily intimidated. “Let me make this simple. She doesn’t want to see you. Turn around, and we can pretend that this never happened.”

Lies, but I know he won’t buy it.

“Hey.” Ember’s voice rings out behind me. I glance over my shoulder to find her standing there, arms crossed, a flush still high on her cheeks. She’s clearly trying to pull herself together, but there’s steel in her voice. “Shawn, leave. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Shawn’s face falls into a wounded mask, but I catch the glint of manipulation in his eyes. He edges closer, trying to peer around me. “Ember, come on. Don’t let this guy speak for you. We’ve got history. I just want to talk.”

“You heard her,” I growl, straightening to my full height. “She said to leave.”

I’m not sure decking this guy, whoever the fuck he is, is the best way to earn Ember’s favor, but he’s pushing the damn envelope.

Shawn’s mask cracks, and his voice turns sharp. “Who the hell do you think you are? This is between me and her?—”

I step forward, forcing him to stumble back into the hallway. My voice drops into a dangerous calm. “I’m the man who will happily remind you what ‘no’ means. Try me.”

Don’t kill him. Do. Not. Kill. Him. I conjure up the faces of my brothers, ready to murder me if I misstep here.

For a moment, Shawn’s bravado wars with his self-preservation. His jaw tightens, but the size difference—and my unflinching stare—seals the deal. He throws his hands up in mock surrender, stepping back with a scowl.

“Fine. I’m going,” he mutters, shooting a pointed look at Ember over my shoulder. “But we’re not done, Ember.”

“Yes, we are,” she calls out, her voice steady despite the tension in her frame. “Don’t come back.”

He glares at me one last time before turning on his heel and stalking off. Footsteps sound on the stairs. The slamming of a door. I watch until he’s fully out of sight, then close the door, locking it firmly behind me.

When I turn, Ember’s watching me, her arms still crossed but her posture softer now. Her lips part, but no words come out. Instead, steps closer to me.

“That was hot,” she whispers. “The uh… difference between reality and fantasy? That one right there? Checks out on both fronts.”

I can’t help it. I need to kiss her. I have to.

We lean into each other. When her lips meet mine, I stifle a groan. Fuuuck.

I slide my hands to her waist, pulling her flush against me as she presses up onto her toes, her fingers tangling in my hair. There’s no hesitation, no doubt—only heat and want, and I’m matching that fucking energy.

Her nails scrape against my scalp as she tilts her head, deepening the kiss. My hands tighten on her hips, and I steer her backward until her back hits the wall. She gasps into my mouth, and I take the opportunity to nip at her bottom lip, drawing a soft moan that sends a jolt of electricity through me.

“You’re tempting the devil,” I warn her, my voice rough with restraint.

“Maybe I hope he bites,” she whispers back, her voice breathless. Heated. She’s living up to her fucking name.

I don’t give her a chance to second-guess. I capture her mouth again, my hands sliding up her sides to anchor her in place. She arches into me, and I’m seconds away from losing all fucking control.

But this time, she pulls back, her lips swollen and her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her green eyes blaze as she meets my gaze. “Let’s get this clear. Just because I let you intimidate Shawn doesn’t mean I’m letting you boss me around.”

I smirk, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “We’ll see about that, little queen.”

Glancing at her phone, she groans. “Shit! I have to get to a shoot. I promised.”

“And I’ve got to check in with my brothers.” I pull away from her with reluctance. I know I need to leave. I have to make sure she learns to trust me, and right now, I’ve pushed far. “Tonight, Ember.”