Chapter 17
Unlocked
The water had gone tepid around her, but Marigold couldn’t bring herself to move. Her body still thrummed with the aftermath of release, muscles liquid and languid. She should feel ashamed. Should feel guilty for whispering his name like a prayer into the steam.
The lock clicked and her eyes flew open.
The gilded handle on the bathroom door turned with deliberate intent, and her heart slammed against her ribs. She’d locked the bedroom door. She was certain of it.
“Who’s there?”
The ivory door flung open, and she sloshed back against the wall of the tub, cool air rushing in, hitting her overheated flesh and raising goosebumps across every inch of exposed skin. “Hunter.”
He filled the doorway like a storm given form. His obsidian eyes burned molten in the dim light, fixed on her with an intensity that made her sink lower in the water.
“What are you doing in my bathroom?”
He stepped inside, looming like a lethal threat about to destroy her. “My bathroom.”
She sloshed to the other end of the tub. “Get out!” Her voice cracked with indignant pride.
He prowled closer, graceful and deadly, moving like an agile giant, each footfall silent on the marble floor, despite his heavy boots. “You called for me.”
“I did not—” Blood drained from her face. Had he been watching her? Spying? Her gaze dropped to the water as mortification burned through her veins. “You bastard.”
“That might be true, but I heard what I heard.”
“You heard wrong.”
“Liar.” The word rolled off his tongue like a caress.
He crouched beside the tub, one massive hand gripping the porcelain edge.
This close, she could see the pulse jumping in his throat, could smell the pine smoke and raw masculinity that clung to his skin.
“You whispered my name like you were tasting it.”
Shame scorched her cheeks. He couldn’t know what she’d been thinking. Couldn’t have known what she’d done. Her gaze shot to the bear camera.
“Yes.” He affirmed, not needing to follow her gaze to track her line of thought. “I watched the whole thing.”
The realization hit like ice water.
“Heard every breath.” His gaze tracked down her throat to where the water barely covered her breasts. “Every word.”
“You had no right.”
“I have every right.” He reached for her, and she pressed back against the far side of the tub.
“Don’t.”
“You’re mine to protect. Mine to watch.” He extended his hand, waiting. “Mine to use.”
“You rejected me.” Not once, but twice. “You’ll do it again. You’re only doing this to punish me.”
His hand froze inches from her skin. Something dark flickered across his features. “Not all punishment hurts.”
“Well, rejection does. Play games with someone else, Hunter. I’m not interested.”
His name on her lips, even in anger, was an aphrodisiac for the soul. “This time, I won’t reject you.”
“No.”
He stilled, then stood, furious she’d think to deny him after giving herself to her brothers several times over. “That’s not a word I abide from you.” He plunged both arms into the water and lifted her out as if she weighed nothing.
“Let go of me!” Water sluiced off her body, soaking through his shirt, dripping onto his boots, and sloshing onto the floor.
He gathered her against his chest, walking her out of the warm bathroom. “We’re past the point of resistance.”
She gasped as cold air awakened her wet skin, instinctively curling into his warmth even as she fought to get free. “You animal!”
He carried her to the bed and tossed her down unceremoniously, then stepped back. The handmade birch frame creaked as she scrambled for the blankets, her shaking limbs radiating fury as she wrapped her body in white fur.
“I hate you!” she snapped.
“You’re clean now.” His voice had gone rough, accent thicker. He undid his belt, pulling it slowly through each belt loop so she fully understood where this was going. “Fresh.” He toed off his boots. “No trace of them on your skin.”
She clutched the furs tighter to her chest. “Why are you doing this now? You said you didn’t want me. You said you wouldn’t.”
“Our circumstances have changed.” He circled the bed like a predator stalking prey as he stripped off his shirt.
“Does this have to do with Jordan? Did something happen?”
“Leave his name out of this.”
“How can I, when you plan to punish me? And I don’t know what I did wrong!”
“Not wrong. It is what it is. Here we are. You called my name.” He lowered his zipper.
“Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you regret it. But in that moment, as you fed your fingers into your tight heat and brought yourself to climax, it was my face you imagine. My hand. My touch. My name you whispered as you came.” He caught her ankle and hauled her to the edge of the bed.
“Tell me it wasn’t and I’ll leave you be. ”
She lay flat on her back, staring up at him in terror. The heat from his skin burned into hers. She couldn’t deny it. She’d touched herself, and in that moment, wished it was him. But she wanted the gentle giant from the library, not this unhinged version from her nightmares.
“Hunter, please.” She placed a staying hand on his chest, surprised when he stilled. “Why are you here? What do you want?”
“Everything.” He caught her under the knees and yanked her to the edge, pulling her legs apart.
“Wait!”
“Your fear…” He growled. “I already told you it’s mine. It won’t stop me. It only edges me on. I want to taste it in your arousal when I devour you.”
“Why does it have to be scary?” She panted, desperately trying to find the man she’d witnessed in the library. “I know there’s a softer side to you.”
“A man has many sides, but at the core, we’re all hiding an inner beast. Whichever side you get, they’re all me. And when I’m done with you, you won’t know where terror ends and pleasure begins.”
Her thighs clenched involuntarily. “You said you weren’t interested.”
“I said you would beg.”
Indignant fury burned through her as she glared at him. “You had your chance.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Is that what you think?” He moved on her so fast, pinning her arms beside her head and forcing her back to arch. “Every second that you’re here, in my home, is another chance to do what I want with you.”
The fur blanket slipped off her chest, and his gaze fell like a physical caress over her breasts, tracking the drops of water that trailed from her skin. Tension filled the room, so thick she could barely breathe.
“Hunter!”
He stilled. “Say it again. Softer.”
She panted, gentling her voice, “Hunter…”
He grinned, his gaze traveling slowly over her exposed body like a hungry caress.
“Look at you.” His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper.
“Shivering. Scared. Perfect.” He was closer now, close enough that his body heat reached her.
His gaze pinned her in place as much as his unbreakable hold.
“Enough with this game, Lisichka. We will ease the tension so we can both breathe normally again.”
His thick accent cast an intoxicating spell on her.
“It’s better that I come to you now, while I still have a shred of control left.” He leaned over her, dragging his nose along her breast and breathing her in. “Admit that you want it, too.”
“I’m scared.”
“Yes, sometimes I even scare myself.” His gentle hand moved in complete contrast to her erratic heart. “Beg, and I’ll end all your suffering, Lisichka. Just say one pretty word, and I’ll show you things you’ve never imagined.”
The Russian endearment shouldn’t affect her. Shouldn’t make her stomach flip and her skin flush. “What’s Lisichka?”
“A clever, little fox.” His hand lifted toward her face, hovering just out of reach, then he trailed his fingers softly over her throat. “Foxes are thieves. And I think you stole my sanity today. The little I had left.”
She could feel the heat radiating from his palm, could imagine how it would feel against her skin. Rough. Warm. Possessive. The space between them crackled with possibility.
“Do you plan to hurt me?”
“Nyet, but that’s not the right question, little fox.”
He was right. She wanted to get it over with—this inevitable outcome was the only thing keeping her from fully accepting her new life. “Will there be pain?”
“Perhaps. Pain is unavoidable. It’s proof we’re alive.” He glanced down where the blanket gathered over her hips and frowned. “You’re very…petite. I’m not. Some pain is to be expected.”
She studied his dark stare, searching for hidden cruel intentions. The friction of their chemistry alone was abrading her nerves.
She’d wanted him since she left the library. Continued fantasizing about him as she washed her body clean. Then, when she touched herself, it was his face she imagined, his fingers she pictured slipping inside of her. It wasn’t an accident when she uttered his name.
Now, he was here.
“Touch me.” The words escaped before she could stop them.
His hand dropped immediately. “That wasn’t begging.”
Frustration and need tangled in her chest. He stood over her like carved stone, everything she wanted just out of reach. The blankets slipped lower when she arched toward him, and his eyes tracked the movement with laser focus, but still, he didn’t move.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.” His voice had gone deadly soft. “Tell me what you thought about in that tub. Tell me what made you say my name.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “You already know.”
“Say it.”
She pressed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache building between them. He noticed, of course, his eyes darkening, and his hands clenching into fists.
“I thought about your hands.” The admission scraped her throat raw. “Your scars. How they felt on my neck. How they might feel in… other places.”
“Continue.”
“Your mouth.” Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “How it sounds when you roll your Rs and how it might sound to hear you say my name.”
“Marigold…” he said, with deliberate slowness, letting the R roll over the G into the long, lulling L.
Her eyes rolled shut. It was better than she’d imagined.