Chapter 14 #2
Even when I fold her arms behind her back and pull tight, she doesn’t make a peep, though I can damn near hear her teeth grinding. Every inch of her trembles with defiance. Even now, pinned and helpless and completely at my mercy, she’s not giving up.
“Caught you, Nika.” I lean close to her ear. “Where are your sneaky tricks now? Good ole Dimitri? Nothing and no one left to help you, hmm?”
She breathes heavy through her nose. “Bite me.”
“Only if you beg.”
She fakes a gag. “You’re disgusting.”
A dry laugh scratches my throat. “We’re going to have fun, you and me.”
Now that I’ve got my hands on her, I drag her back to the room I saw her come out of.
Her bedroom.
She tries to resist, but I am so over this day. Using both hands, one still gloved, I haul her up and shove her face-first on her bed.
The mattress is soft. Too soft. As I press her down, she twists her head to the side, struggling to suck in air as the pillow conforms around her mouth and nose.
She’s strong, but leverage matters more than strength. Physics doesn’t care how well Dimitri trained her. She’s pinned now, her legs sticking out helplessly as the edge of the bed hits her just below the knees. Her rapid pulse hammers under my palm.
Next to the bed, barely in reach, is a dresser. I yank open drawers one-handed, hunting for anything useful. In the third, I discover black silk stockings, folded neatly on top of a matching teddy with whale boning.
“Well, well. Who would have thought you had such a naughty side?”
She says nothing, her torso heaving as she breathes.
I climb on top of her, using my weight to subdue her. Underneath me, she’s all coiled muscle and desperate energy.
I ignore the flickering overhead light.
Now that I can use both hands, I tie her wrists together with the stockings, ensuring the knots aren’t too tight and sit away from her joints.
The silk is much better suited for this than appliance cords, and they knot neatly at her pulse.
Once that’s done, I just need to find an anchor point she can’t reach.
The headboard, which features vertical dark wood slats, is perfect. Looping the stocking over the top, I pull the material to the bottom horizontal piece and tie off.
She’s bound now, her hands secured to the headboard. Helpless.
I climb off her and stand at the foot of the bed.
She flips over immediately, her legs swinging, but I’m already out of reach. I know exactly what those long limbs can do, and I refuse to stay in the line of fire.
In her struggle, her white hair fell out of its bun, spreading strands across the dark silk pillows and creating a stark, almost artistic contrast. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. The tank top rides up her sides, revealing a strip of pale skin above the waistband of her underwear.
We both pant as the wind howls outside.
She flings her head back in a swift, defiant motion, and her hair flies in a corona around her face. “Just do it.”
“Do what?” What does she think I’m about to do? Fuck her?
“Kill me.” She spits out the challenge.
I could go ahead and snap her neck. I certainly want to after all this bullshit.
That would end this. Then I could bring the locket back to Roman and tell him his daughter is dead, his threat eliminated, his empire secure.
That’s not the assignment he gave me, but I owe her for Sasha’s death.
And if I blamed the winter storm or even this Dimitri guy, the Pakhan would never know I murdered her.
The image of Roman’s expression when he talked about Lilia and Nika flashes through my mind.
That grief’s eaten him alive for fifteen years.
The obsession that’s driven every decision, every order, every brutal choice.
Despite the woman she’s become, my Pakhan would be furious if she died, regardless of the circumstances.
Plus, we still need answers.
Like how she got inside the Bratva and managed to plant those GPS trackers, who’s feeding her information, and what other traps she’s laid. I’m here in her sanctuary, where she crafted all her careful plans.
The overhead light flickers again, then dies, leaving only the warm glow from a bedside lamp. I peel off my remaining glove and drop it on the floor.
“I’m not going to kill you. Not yet, anyway.” I’m not going to rape her, either, but after what she pulled in the penthouse suite, she doesn’t need to know that I don’t have nonconsensual sex on my radar.
“Why not?” She twists back and forth, trying to sit comfortably with her arms pulled over her head. Finally, she rests both hands on her right shoulder, the one closest to me.
I bend over and trail my freezing fingers down her cheek. “Because I’m going to break you first.”
The lamp on the nightstand goes dark half a second later, plunging us into shadows.
I can still see the outline of her body on the bed.
Her white hair gleams even in this dim light, and her dark eyes shine as she stares up at me.
Rose water wafts off her skin, mixing with an intoxicating blend of sweat and fear.
A gasp escapes her.
She wriggles again, and this time, I don’t think it’s because of the restraints.
She lifts her chin and fixes me with a glare that could melt my face. “I’ll never break.”
My blood surges. Heat floods through me despite the exhaustion that kept the sexual tension at bay until now.
She certainly didn’t have that problem holding her back. And I don’t think it’s my cold touch that has her nipples hard as rocks or her thighs clenched so tightly together.
I cup her jaw, my fingertips barely grazing her throat. Shivers run down her skin, and she licks her lips. That tiny act captures my attention.
“Wanna bet?” I settle my weight more fully onto the bed. “You were about to break back at the hotel while sitting in my lap. Maybe that’s what we need to do to get you back into that headspace. You want to sit on my lap, Nika?”
Standing up, I start stripping off the layers of weather protection.
“You’re insane.” Yet dark, hungry eyes track my every movement, each piece of clothing that drops. “The only part of that I liked was the headbutt.”
“So you like it rough.” I shove the snow pants down, then sit on the bed beside her to pull them over my boots. “I do too.”
“I…” She stops to bite her lower lip before curling her body against the headboard. “I didn’t say that.”
“Maybe not, but it’s what you meant.” Plucking a chunk of snow from the floor, I lightly drag it up her arm, to her shoulder, and then down her side and over her hips while cataloguing every micro-expression. The fear. The fury. The desire she’s struggling to hide.
My hand covers her through the fabric of her panties, eliciting a half-groan, half-gasp. Still, she doesn’t retreat.
Immediate heat wraps around my icy digits. I’m sure the cold must burn her. She arches slightly off the bed, rolling along my finger.
Lust barrels through me, harder and faster than ever before. I’ve had plenty of sexual escapades in my life, all with women whose names I can’t remember, in moments that merely scratched an itch.
This is different.
I tell myself it’s about power and dominance even as my fingers slide between hot, delicate folds and damp cotton. About making her understand that I own her now, that her body will betray her just like mine betrayed me in that hotel room.
As I peer into her angry, half-lidded eyes while making her lithe, muscular form writhe for me, I remind myself of an important truth.
It’s just sex.