Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
ANYA
I ’m still awake when Erik joins me in our bed.
Normally, I’m asleep, and I’m usually grateful for that because then I don’t have to think about Erik sleeping right next to me. For the past week, when I’ve woken up, he’s already been gone.
But now, I have to think about it. His body next to mine. The heat from it seeping into mine. The power he exudes, even in sleep.
I scoot farther away from him.
“Awake?” His deep voice rumbles. It does something strange to my body, but I would never admit it.
“Obviously.”
He laughs more to himself. “Always a pleasure talking to you, Anya. Are you still angry about what happened today?”
“Meaning how you sold my sister off to marry that man? Then yes, I’m still angry.”
“She wasn’t sold. And she won’t have to marry Viktor for at least another year, if not longer. He doesn’t want a child bride, don’t worry. This is just a promise to work together. You know, Anya, you can’t protect Nadia forever. Your need to protect her this much is going to kill you.”
“Why do you care? You don’t care about anyone.” I keep my back to him so I can’t see his expression, but I would give anything to know what’s written on his face.
His voice becomes cold. “You’re right. I don’t care. Everything I do is for my business. The sooner you learn that, the better.”
“And yet you told my father not to hit me. You cared enough about that.”
“That was just because I didn’t want your pretty face getting bruised.”
I grip the sheets tightly between my hands. “Is that all? Nothing else?”
“How could there be anything else? I’m not a man with a heart, remember? I’m the boogeyman, and I always will be.”
With a huff, I roll onto my back and force myself to look at him. “You don’t always have to be.”
“I can’t change who I am, Anya.”
“Maybe not. But I’m your wife, Erik. You could learn to care about me. We don’t have to hate each other.”
“I didn’t realize I hated you.”
“Don’t you?”
He places his hand on my cheek and just holds it there. “I don’t hate you at all. You’re not my enemy. I’m just not capable of love. I don’t have it within me.”
“Well, I hate you,” I whisper.
“Do you? Why do you hate me, Anya? What have I done exactly that has made you hate me?”
“You spanked me.”
“True.”
“You kept me from seeing my sister.”
“I took you to see her the next day as I promised.”
I blink. He’s not wrong … “You do bad things to people. I never wanted to marry you.”
“All true things as well. But, Anya, your father made the decision for you. He came to me with an offer.”
“That didn’t mean you had to take me.”
“Why not?” He removes his hand from my cheek. “Arranged marriages are common in the Bratva. You know this. I haven’t beat you like your father. How am I a monster to you?”
“It was your idea to marry Nadia off.”
“Your father would’ve done it the second she turned eighteen. Viktor may be an aloof man, but from my understanding, he’s not a mean man. He doesn’t have a reputation of hurting women. Your fate was to get married, Anya, and so is your sister’s. You might want to learn to accept that sooner rather than later.”
“Why?”
“If you want to be happy at all.”
I stare up at the ceiling, hating how my hard my heart pounds and how flushed my face is. Erik isn’t wrong, I admit. I want to be happy. I don’t want all this anger inside me.
But how can I be happy when I despise my father, and Erik only ever treats me with a cold, clinical-ness that makes me feel even more alone?
“You speak so practically,” I tell him.
“Because I’m a practical man.”
“I know. But there’s no passion inside you, Erik.”
“Trust me. I have a lot of passion inside me when I’m killing and fucking.”
My face burns hot. “With me, I mean. You don’t treat me with passion. You’re so cold with me. How can I ever be happy with you when you treat me like that?”
“Do you even want to try and be happy with me? I thought you wanted to keep that chip on your shoulder.”
“I thought you liked the chip on my shoulder.”
His lips quirk into a small smile. “True. I find your attitude fascinating. Most people would never even dream of speaking to me the way you speak to me.”
“I’m not most people, Erik. I’m your wife. And I know now there’s no getting around that. I’ve come to accept that part of things. But I can’t accept my sister being miserable. I can’t accept her getting hurt.”
“You can’t save everyone, Anya. Now, you didn’t answer my question. Do you want to be happy with me?”
“Of course, I would love to be happy. I don’t want to be filled with hate and anger and sadness. But I don’t know if I can trust you. You’ve said as much.”
“That’s because I’m not sure what I would do with your feelings. I know the kind of man I am. I do things to benefit myself. That’s why you can’t trust me.”
“So, how can I ever be happy with you if I can’t trust you?”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” he asks. “Go to sleep, Anya. You’re going to work yourself up.”
“I’m already worked up.”
“I could help you with that.” There’s a strong implication in his voice. I know what he means by help . He could touch me. Show me pleasure, I’m sure. I still think about how he spanked me and how close his fingers were to that pleasurable spot between my legs. How good it felt for him to touch me on my lower backside, even though he’d just shown me pain.
I could’ve opened my legs. If I’d done that, it probably would’ve changed everything between us. But I can’t see Erik as anything other than a monster.
“I’m good,” I respond.
“Ok, then.” He rolls onto his side, keeping his back to me. “I thought you should know that your father, Viktor, and a few of our men are going to come over here for a party later in the week to celebrate us all working together.”
“My father will be here?” I hate how my heartrate spikes.
“He will be. But, Anya, I won’t let him hit you again. That is one thing I can promise.”
And it’s that promise that makes my body lose some of its tension and allows me to finally fall asleep next to the man who confuses yet excites me.
The sight of my father walking through Erik’s front door makes me want to vomit.
I’m in a red evening gown befitting a get together such as this. Erik is in a classic navy suit. He looks handsome; I have to admit.
Over the past week, we’ve mostly kept our distance from each other. We’ll talk at the dinner table, but our conversations never go deep. I still don’t know much about him, and I’m starting to realize I want to learn more about Erik. I want to crack his hard shell.
One thing I’ve noticed over the week is that I’m not as afraid of him. He hasn’t beat me. He kept his promise in that regard. He hasn’t pressured me for sex. Other than the occasional touch to my face or low back, he’s barely touched me.
I’m grateful he hasn’t been a monster to me, but he’s just so cold. And the coldness in him only makes me feel colder, not warmer. I don’t feel closer to him at all.
And that has been making me miserable.
“Anya,” my father says with his lips pursed like he’s smelled something bad. It’s a look I’m very familiar with.
“Father,” I reply.
I just have to get through this evening, and then I don’t need to see him for a while.
“How is Nadia?” I ask. I haven’t been allowed to talk to her because he took her phone away. I just have to trust she’s keeping her head down and staying safe.
“Your sister is good. Quiet. Polite. Like you should’ve been.”
Erik stands next to me and places his hand on my low back. I find myself leaning into his touch without even thinking about it. “Anya isn’t quiet, but I like that about her.”
I stare at Erik for a moment. His expression is serious. He means what he says. That’s what makes everything confusing for me. He likes me, but he barely shows me any warmth. I don’t like him, but I can’t seem to get him off my mind. It’s a virus. Once infected, it never goes away.
“Mmm. Yes,” Father says, looking even more pinched.
More men arrive at the house, including Viktor. I make a beeline straight for him. “I’m sorry I spilled water on you that day.”
“Thank you.”
“But if you ever hurt my sister, I will make you regret it.”
Viktor regards me with curiosity, like a cat does a bug. “I have no desire to hurt your sister. I find your love for her admirable.”
“That makes one of you,” I mutter.
“You might think I’m an evil Bratva man, but I can assure you, I’m nowhere as bad as your own husband is. He’s the one I’d keep an eye on.”
I glance over my shoulder at Erik, who’s deep in conversation with James and a couple other men I don’t know. It’s then I realize something.
Our entire living room is filled with men. Only men.
I’m the only woman here.
I turn back to Viktor. “Just promise that you won’t hurt her.”
“I won’t hurt her.”
I have no reason to believe Viktor, but I have to. I hate to admit it, but Erik’s right. I can’t keep stressing about Nadia. It’s going to kill me. I have to trust she’ll be all right in the end, no matter what happens to me.
“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” I threaten.
Viktor doesn’t laugh, but his lips do subtly turn up. “I can see why Erik likes you. You’re braver than a lot of women in our world.”
“I’m only brave because I have to be for my sister.”
“That’s not a bad reason to be brave.” He takes a champagne flute from a waiter passing by and takes a sip. “Stay safe, Anya.”
“Safe from who?”
His eyes flick to Erik and back to me before he walks away.
I’m left standing in the middle of the room, all on my own. I’m suddenly aware of just how … female I am. My dress. My breasts. My long hair.
A few of the men in the room look at me, giving me glances that are not completely innocent.
I look over at Erik, who’s still conversing with James. Why do I have the urge to go over to him and grab his hand?
I push that from my mind. It’s silly. I don’t need Erik to protect me. I’ll be fine.
I grab a champagne flute and sit down on the couch. A man sits down next to me.
“Alek Lipovsky.” He holds his hand out to me with an expectant look on his face.
“Uh, hello.” I tentatively take his hand. Alek’s grip is a lot stronger than I expect. He almost takes my arm off from how rough his handshake is.
“So, you’re Erik’s wife. I was at your wedding.”
“Oh? I didn’t see you there.”
His laugh is boisterous. “That’s because we hadn’t been introduced. But now that we have, may I say that you made one beautiful bride.”
“Thank you.”
“Erik made a handsome groom. You’re a beautiful couple. I’m sure you get that all the time.”
“Actually, no. Not at all.”
“Shame. A beautiful girl like you deserves to be complimented all the time.” He leans over the back of the couch to grab a champagne flute from a passing waiter. As he sits back onto the couch, his hand brushes against my arm.
I shift away from him.
“Oh, you don’t need to be so far away!” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me against his side. “I won’t bite.”
“Should you be touching me?”
“Why not?” He chugs his champagne back.
“Because I’m married to Erik. He might not appreciate you touching his wife.”
“Then, good thing Erik is busy. It’s his fault if he’s not paying attention to his wife.”
I search for Erik in the crowd and find him still talking to James. He hasn’t looked over at me once. That’s fine. That doesn’t bother me.
I turn back to Alek. “You know what, Alek? Do you want to have some fun?”
“I would love to have some fun.”
“Then let’s get drunk.” I grab another champagne flute and drink it back in one go.
Alek laughs. “You’re a wild one!”
“I try to be.” If I’m going to be stuck at this party, I might as well let loose a little. Erik doesn’t seem concerned that I’m the only woman surrounded by men. I’ll be fine.
Alek cheers me on as I throw back another drink. And then another. And another.
“Uh, miss?” the waiter asks. “Maybe you should slow down a little.”
“I’m good.” I reach for another glass when someone else grabs it.
“She’s had enough.” It’s my father.
“Hi, Dad.” I giggle at the sound of my own voice. It’s so much higher pitched than I thought it was.
“Don’t ‘Hi, Dad,’ me,” he seethes, grabbing my arm and dragging me to a corner of the living room. “You’re making a fool of yourself. Again. Stop this nonsense. This party is to celebrate the partnership between your husband, Viktor, and me. Do not make a fool out of me.”
“Why not? It’s not like anyone cares. Erik doesn’t care.”
“You care what Erik thinks now, do you?”
“He’s my husband, isn’t he?” I rip my arm away from him but my father only grabs my jaw in return.
“You will stop drinking this once.”
“I am an adult. I can do whatever I want.” I stumble back on my feet and laugh. Everything is much more pleasant when you’re drunk, I realize. Maybe I need to be drunk more often.
“You will stop this.” He gives me face a little slap. Nothing too hard to warrant anyone else’s attention.
“No.”
“Yes, you will.” Another slap.
So, I decide to slap him in return. My hand connects with his face. The sound is like a firecracker in the room, drawing everyone’s attention to us.
Including Erik’s.
Calmly, he comes over to us. “What’s going on here?”
“Your wife is making a fool out of you. She’s drunk. And she hit me.”
“Because he hit me first.”
Erik’s body slowly turns tense as he faces my father. “Didn’t I tell you to never lay a hand on my wife again?”
“It was just a tiny slap, Erik. She won’t bruise, trust me. She just needs discipline.”
“Did I or did I not tell you to not put your hands on my wife again?”
My father’s lips pinch even tighter together. We have the attention of everyone in the room now. “You did.”
“So, why did you slap my wife?”
“Because she’s drunk.”
I stumble in my heels and clutch Erik’s arm, laughing to myself. He does have strong arms, I’ll give him that.
He quirks his eyebrow as he gazes down at me. “I can see that. But that still doesn’t give you the right to put your hands on her. Go calm down, Sergei. Leave Anya to me.”
My father shoots me another glare before walking off, muttering to himself.
“Thank you,” I say to Erik.
“Don’t,” he growls, making me freeze. “Why are you drunk, Anya?”
“I just had a couple of glasses of champagne. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. Do you know what a group of men will do to a woman if she’s inebriated? Any one of these men could’ve taken advantage of you.”
“You didn’t seem concerned that I was on my own in a room full of men. If you’d been concerned, you would’ve stayed by my side the whole night.”
Erik nods once. “You’re right. I didn’t think I’d have to be concerned, but you’re showing me I need to be. You’re going to stay by my side the whole night so I can keep an eye on you. Make sure no one hurts you.”
“Why do you care if anyone hurts me?”
“Because you’re my wife.”
“Your property, you mean,” I spit back.
“I don’t want you to get hurt because then it reflects badly on me. If someone thinks he can take you for himself, then what does that say about me as a husband?”
“So, it’s not because you actually care if I get hurt or not?”
He looks away from me so I can’t read his expression. “Just come stand by me. We’ll discuss this later when you’re not drunk.”
I grab Erik’s face and make him turn back to me. Being drunk has some benefits—I’m a lot more bold this way. “Do you care for me as a person or not?”
Erik grabs my hand and pulls it away from my face. He backs us up so I’m pressed against the wall, and he’s right before me. His entire body is touching mine, and I can admit, it feels good. I’m trapped, yet an excitement flares through me. A part of me wants Erik to just grab my face and kiss me and take my choice away.
Because I don’t want to have to make a choice when it comes to him.
“You’re drunk right now.”
“Doesn’t make my question any less real.”
His hands rest on my waist and squeeze slightly. “I don’t care for anyone, Anya. It’s what makes me perfectly suited for this job.”
“Just say you don’t care for me.”
His eyes search mine, then he pulls away from me without a word. “Come on.”
“You didn’t say it.”
“I know.”
I’m not sure what he means by that. Does he actually somehow care for me? Or is Erik just trying to mess with my mind?
He guides me over to the couch and pulls me onto his lap. “Anya, sit here like a good girl.”
“I’m not your dog,” I hiss, which makes a few of the men laugh, including Alek.
“She’s a spitfire, all right,” Alek says. “I’m curious, Erik. How do you punish her for her insolent attitude?”
“A spanking here, a spanking there.”
I gasp and tense in Erik’s arms. He tightens his hold on my waist, keeping me in place.
“Did she comply like a good girl, or did you have to use force with her?”
“What kind of question is that?” I snap. “If you’re so intrigued by people’s asses, Alek, then take off your own and show everyone in this room what you’re working with.”
His face turns beet red as men laugh at him. Even Erik chuckles.
“She’s a spitfire. You said it yourself, Alek.”
“Aren’t you going to punish her for her insubordination?”
“I mean, I could. But why would I? I have no desire to spank my wife in front of any of you. That’s for my eyes alone.”
I look at Erik closely. In some strange way, he’s protecting me. And yet it doesn’t feel like protection at all. It feels like a threat.
“I could spank you instead,” I offer. The room goes silent, then a couple of men chuckle awkwardly.
Erik’s eyes are intense as he meets my gaze. “You could. But then I’d have to spank you right back and on and on and on it would go. When would it ever end?”
“When you learn to have a heart.” The words slip out of me before I can stop them.
Something flashes in Erik’s eyes. Almost like … sadness. It’s there and gone within a couple of seconds.
“Go wait for me in the kitchen,” he orders.
“What?”
“Go, Anya.”
Slowly, I get up on my unsteady legs and go to the kitchen, which is thankfully absent of men.
Erik finds me here a moment later. “Bend over the counter.”
“What?”
“Anya,” he says pointedly.
My breath comes out in faster pants as I lean over the counter. Erik lifts my dress over my hips and rips my panties down. The cool air in the kitchen makes me jump. I’m fully exposed like this. Anyone could enter and see me.
But for some reason, I don’t think Erik will let that happen.
His hand settles on my ass right before he spanks me. I have to grip the counter to keep from falling. He spanks me in quick succession, each one harder than the last.
I press my lips together to keep from screaming. I won’t give any of the men out there the satisfaction of hearing my pain. Erik won’t hear it either.
Then he stops spanking me and rests his hand on my ass. “Why do you insist on acting the way you do?”
“Because I’m not happy.”
“And if you were happy? You’d be more compliant?”
When I can’t give him an answer, he leans close to my ear and says, “I didn’t think so. I don’t mind your attitude. In many ways, I find it exciting. But you will never embarrass me in front of my men. Is that understood?”
“I don’t care about your pride. I don’t care about you at all.”
“Funny. I don’t either.”
“Then what’s the point? I’ll never respect you, Erik. And I don’t think you’ll ever truly respect me. We’re better off just never interacting. I know I’d be happier.”
“You would be, huh? You’d be happy never being touched?” His hand moves down to my lower ass, right above my upper thighs. “You don’t want me to touch you right now?”
A flash of arousal hits me, and I press my legs tighter together. My body’s response to him doesn’t make any sense.
“I could so easily slip my fingers between your legs and show you pleasure you’ve never felt before. Do you want me to do that for you, Anya?”
“Why do you want to? If you don’t care about me?”
“Because I think you’re in need of a real good fucking. And I can give that to you. All you have to do is give in to me. Just open your legs for me, Anya. Make this easy on both of us.”
His fingers pat my upper thighs.
It would be so easy to do. And there’s a curious part of me that wants to know what it would feel like to have Erik touch me.
But can I give myself over to a monster like him?
My legs part open just the tiniest bit, and I can feel Erik smile against my ear. “Good girl.”
His fingers slide between my legs and touch my sensitive nub, making my hips jerk back against him. I gasp and clutch the counter.
“You’ve ever been touched this way, have you?” His touch is surprisingly gentle against my clit as he rubs it.
“No,” I admit.
“I know you haven’t. It’s what makes you delectable. It’s what makes me want to fuck you.”
My inner walls clench at the idea of him taking me. I both hate this man and am also undeniably attracted to him.
He rubs my clit harder, cupping my entire vulva with his palm. While his hand moves, the rest of his body is so still. My hips respond on instinct, moving back to reach his touch.
Neither of us says anything else. The only sound in the kitchen is the sound of my labored breathing.
Erik’s touch is relentless as he presses and flicks and plays with my clit. My legs open wider. My head falls back against his shoulder. My eyes flutter closed as I get lost in the pleasure of it all.
“You are mine,” he growls as his fingers press right against my nub.
And that does the trick.
I gasp as my orgasm washes over my body. Erik keeps his hand between my legs even after I’m finished coming.
I slump against the counter. All the energy has left me.
Erik pats my ass, then pulls my panties back up and fixes my dress in place. “We can do wonderful things together, Anya. You just have to learn to put aside your hate for me.”
“You know something, Erik? For someone who’s so insistent on not caring about me, you sure do seem to want me to like you.”
He goes silent, then walks out of the room, leaving me alone to catch my breath.