Chapter 7 – BODHI
BODHI
She bit me.
The little hellcat actually sank her teeth into my shoulder hard enough that I felt it through my shirt, and my cock reacted like she’d wrapped her hand around it.
My legs nearly buckled on the front steps, and I had to adjust myself in front of the guards, who smirked, thinking her struggles were turning me. Which they were, but for another reason entirely. I have no desire to force her to do anything, but damn, do I love her spirit.
Her weight is nothing to me, and I’m trying my hardest not to hurt or drop her, but she’s not making it easy.
She’s still squirming, and every movement shifts her body against mine, her subtle curves pressing into my shoulder, and her scent flooding my senses until I can barely focus on what I’m doing.
When I grabbed her ankle and dragged her to me, she liked it. Her scent flared, sweet and full, when I loomed over her. And I didn’t miss the flush on her chest or the way her lips parted when our bodies touched.
I can’t think straight, not helped by my hand that’s still on her ass, resting on the soft flesh I can’t wait to sink my teeth into. I tell myself it’s just to keep her dress down, to preserve her modesty in front of these leering assholes.
It’s a lie.
My palm is pressed against the curve of her backside, fingers splayed wide, the heat of her skin seeping through the thin silk. The word mate echoes through my skull like a drumbeat, drowning out everything else.
“Put me down, you absolute Neanderthal.” She lands another punch on my kidney, and I grunt, more from the effort of not reacting to her than from any actual pain she’s inflicting.
I’ll give her credit; she knows how to fight. Whatever act she was putting on in the club, pretending she wouldn’t cause any trouble, is long gone.
A guard steps into the foyer as I carry her through, his hand going to his weapon, eyes widening at the sight of a snarling, half-dressed woman being carried through the marble entrance hall in a fireman’s hold.
His confusion is almost comical, gaze darting between Emma’s flailing limbs and my grim expression.
“He’s good!” Igor calls out from behind us, amusement thick in his voice as his footsteps echo across the polished floor. “That’s Lennox. He’s handling Kozlov’s new special project.”
The guard’s hand drops from his gun, but his eyes linger on Emma’s bare legs, and a knowing smile teases his lips. I shoot him a look that promises violence, letting just a hint of my bear bleed into my expression, and he spins away, suddenly finding the ornate wallpaper very interesting.
“Blue wing,” he mutters, jerking his chin toward the sweeping staircase that curves up into darkness. “Up the stairs, take a right, then another right. Third door on your left.”
I start climbing, my boots heavy on the marble steps, with Emma still thrashing against my grip like a wildcat. An eclectic variety of swear words and insults tumble from her mouth, but I ignore her futile attempts to get away.
God“I swear to god, if you don’t put me down, I’ll… I’ll…” She lets out a frustrated scream that’s more feral cat than scary warrior.
“You’ll what?” I tighten my grip on her thighs, my fingers drifting dangerously high on her leg, my self-control is hanging by a thread. “Bite me again?”
She stills.
“No,” she says quietly, her breath hot against my back through my shirt. “But I’ll think of something.”
I grit my teeth and take the stairs two at a time, my boots echoing off the marble in the cavernous stairwell.
The hallway at the top is long and dimly lit, lined with identical doors set into dark wood panelling.
Oil paintings of hunting scenes line the walls, with horses, hounds, and men with rifles.
All of it reeks of old money. Kozlov’s trying to buy the illusion of a respectable background and true wealth.
I shoulder Emma’s bedroom door open without breaking stride and carry her into a huge suite that’s more modern than I’d expected.
A large bed dominates the space, covered in a blue silk coverlet that matches the heavy drapes framing a sash window.
An ensuite bathroom is visible through an open door, all white marble and gleaming fixtures.
It looks like a luxurious guest room, but the heavy lock on the door makes it clear what this place really is. Nothing but a gilded cage.
I cross to the bed, then unceremoniously tumble her down onto the mattress not at all gently.
She bounces once, her golden hair fanning out around her head like a halo, with her dress twisted around her thighs in a way that’s making my mouth go dry.
Before she can scramble away, I’m leaning over her with one hand planted on either side of her head, caging her in against the silk coverlet like I did in the car.
Her chest heaves beneath me, straining against the low neckline of her dress, and her green eyes blaze up at me with fury, shining with a fiery passion that’s making my blood run hot.
“Get off me.” Her voice is breathless, her pulse fluttering visibly in the hollow of her throat, which I can’t seem to look away from.
“Listen to me.” My left hand shifts on the ornate headboard as I speak, fingers finding the gap between the carved wood, and the wallpapered wall behind it.
The tiny camera Chase gave me, which is no bigger than a shirt button, slips into place without a sound, angled to capture the whole room.
“These men are dangerous. I know you’re pissed off, and you have every right to be, but if you keep acting up, they will hurt you. ”
She laughs softly, her head falling back against the pillow, exposing the long line of her throat in a way that makes me want to lean down and drag my teeth across her pulse point. But there’s no humor in the sound, just a hollow, brittle edge that makes my chest ache.
“They’re going to hurt me anyway,” she says quietly, the fight draining out of her voice as quickly as it came, leaving something raw and weary in its wake. “So, I’d rather it be on my terms.”
I stare down at her, this fierce, stubborn woman who’s been thrown into hell and wants to go out swinging.
The animal inside roars at me to tell her the truth, to gather her close against my chest and promise that I’ll get her out of this, that I’ll kill anyone who so much as looks at her wrong.
But I can’t. Not yet. Not with Igor’s footsteps already echoing somewhere in the hallway, getting closer by the second.
So instead, I let out a slow breath, letting some of the tension drain from my shoulders, as I hold her gaze and dip a little closer, my beard brushing against her cheek, and our hips lining up perfectly.
“If any of them fuck with you,” I whisper, my voice rough. “You tell me. Understand?”
Her brow furrows, a crease forming between her eyes as confusion flickers across her face like a shadow. “Why would you care?”
“Just… tell me.” My stern tone seems to reassure her that I’m serious.
Something passes between us in the silence that follows, the air thick and charged in the narrow space between our bodies. A question. An answer. A fragile thread of something that isn’t quite trust, and not exactly a promise, but could maybe become one given the time we don’t have.
Her lips part, soft and pink, and for one insane moment, I think she’s going to say yes. That she’ll do what I say, maybe even acknowledge this inexplicable pull between us, this gravity that keeps dragging me toward her no matter how hard I try to resist.
“Lennox?”
Igor’s voice shatters the moment, echoing down the hallway and breaking whatever spell had settled over us.
“In here,” I call, pushing off the bed and stepping back, schooling my expression into indifference as his footsteps nearby.
Emma props herself up on her elbows and studies me.
“Come on, I’ll show you the layout before the boss gets back.
” Igor appears in the doorway with his shoulder propped against the frame.
His eyes sweep over Emma sprawled on the bed, taking in her mussed hair, flushed cheeks and heaving chest, and a knowing smirk spreads across his weathered face. “She giving you trouble?”
I shrug, deliberately not looking at her and keeping my posture loose and bored. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You sure? It looked like she took a chunk out of you on the way in.” He gestures toward my shoulder, where I can feel her bite throbbing beneath my shirt. “Need to get a tetanus shot?”
I reach up and rub the spot where her teeth marks are probably still visible, letting annoyance creep into my expression. “I took her shoes. Let’s see her try to run now,” I say flatly, jerking my chin toward her bare feet dangling over the edge of the mattress.
Emma makes a sound of outrage behind me, pushing up to sitting now to glare. “Ha. Don’t pretend to be mad. You liked it.” Her voice cuts through, sharp and mocking, and I can hear the vicious satisfaction in every syllable. “I know you did.”
I turn to look at her over my shoulder, letting a slow smile spread across my face. The kind that says she’s right, and we both know it. That her teeth in my flesh made me harder than I’ve been in months, and I’m still half-hard just from the memory.
Her cheeks flush a deep pink, but she doesn’t look away. In fact, her gaze drops to my crotch, and she raises an eyebrow, the exact opposite of backing down.
“Come on,” Igor says, already turning to leave, his boots scuffing against the hardwood floor.
I follow him out, wrapping my fingers around the heavy brass door handle and pulling it shut behind me with one last longing glance at my mate, who’s already slipping off the end of the bed.
“Don’t go anywhere.” I tease, throwing Igor a wink. I turn the key in the lock. The click is loud and final in the quiet hallway.
For a second, there’s nothing but silence, thick and suffocating.
Then Emma screams in rage, the sound tearing my chest apart just as much as Igor’s sick laugh.