Chapter 5 #2
“Alina, if you refuse to do this willingly, Gavriil will send his men over here to undress you. I don’t think you want it to come to that. I sure as fuck don’t want it to come to that,” Dominik says, muttering the last part under his breath.
So, I was right. Gavriil is a monster.
He may look like a cool, calm mobster, but after meeting him for only a few moments, I could see the darkness in his eyes.
He’s the kind of man who craves violence.
Relishes it. That’s the difference between him and his underboss.
Dominik may look like carefully contained violence dressed up in a suit, but I don’t think he would be unnecessarily cruel to me or to anyone who doesn’t deserve it.
Unless this whole “kindness” charade he’s playing is merely a means of showing ownership over me to spite his Pakhan.
“What if he ordered you to undress me and put those things on me?” I ask. “Would you refuse?”
“If he ordered it, I’d put a bullet in the wall before I touched you like that.” Dominik steps closer to me, making me shrink back into the chair. “You really think I would tear your clothes off unless you asked me to?”
“You did last night,” I remind him.
He rocks back on his feet. “That was different. I tore off a piece of fabric to staunch the blood gushing from my nose, all thanks to you.”
I hate the way my heart races at the reminder of him hovering over me. And it’s annoying how my skin feels hot like I have a fever. Dominik may be attractive, sure, but he won’t be tearing my clothes off me again in this lifetime.
A cell phone dings. Dominik breaks the silence and our eye contact to pull his device from his pants pocket to read it. “Gavriil is asking why he hasn’t received the photos yet. Should I tell him that you’re changing?”
I stare him down for a long moment, making sure that he understands just how furious I am about this, before finally conceding. “Yes,” I grit out.
Getting up, I lower my shorts then grab the panties from the box. I step into them, pulling them up my legs, over my sensible black cotton ones that will provide more coverage.
Dominik’s lips part as if to protest just as I pull off the tee, his tee I assume, revealing my matching black bra. I reach for the corset and slip it on over top. “Tie me up?” I ask, an ironic question since that’s what this whole ploy is all about.
While I’m half-naked and feel completely vulnerable standing before my captor, I still find pleasure in the way this powerful, intimidating man’s big hands fumble when he reaches for the satin ribbon. It doesn’t take him long to get ahold of both ends of it. Then, I’m the one thrown off balance.
With each and every yank of the ribbons, Dominik tugs me a little closer to him, until I’m pressed to his chest and stomach, barely able to breathe. He gazes down at the swell of my breasts overflowing from my bra cups and the top of the tight corset as he slowly, carefully ties the bow there.
His minty breath warms my face when he says, “I’d prefer to be doing this under different circumstances.” His long fingers reach out to adjust the delicate bow he just made, his thumbs intentionally brushing over the line of my cleavage that disappears into the corset.
I try to take a deep breath, but my ribs are too constricted by the material, by his nearness. “If you had it your way, you’d be taking all this off, not putting it on?” I guess.
Dominik smirks a little, the most relaxed expression I’ve seen on his stern face. “If circumstances were different, you’d be begging me to take every piece off you.”
Begging? I’d never beg him for anything.
“If you hadn’t kidnapped me off the street? If we’d just bumped into each other like normal people?” I question him, fighting between the growing heat in my lower belly and the anger that I feel toward him for uprooting my life and threatening Archer’s.
“How many people actually meet like that?” He reaches up and gently tucks a strand of damp hair behind my ear, making me shiver.
I blink at him, not expecting the question or the innocent touch. “I don’t know, but we didn’t meet like that.”
“A shame,” Dominik murmurs. “Do you need my help with the stocking and garters, or do you think you can handle them by yourself?”
“I-I can put those on myself.”
“That’s fine. I’m sure I’ll get a good look at them when I’m kneeling between your legs, tying your ankles and wrists to the chair.”
That’s an image I certainly didn’t need put into my head.
“Play nice, don’t fight me on this, and I’ll make sure I’m the only one who sees you wearing that while in such a vulnerable position,” Dominik offers.
One man instead of three or four lurking, gawking while I’m restrained with no way to stop them from touching me? I’d be stupid to refuse his offer.
“Fine,” I whisper, hating every part of this, including how much worse the alternative is.
“Once you’re dressed, you can cover up with the robe hanging in the closet before we go to the study. That’s where everything has already been laid out,” Dominik tells me.
As if a flimsy robe could hide my embarrassment behind it. Still, being covered with anything is better than nothing.
The ropes bite into my skin while tape seals off my mouth. The tight corset crushes what little breath I have left.
Being so powerless, so exposed, a single tear slips before I can blink it back.
“Look at me, Alina,” Dominik demands, his phone in his hand. “It’s just for a few more minutes.”
There’s something in his voice I can’t stand, not pity, but regret, like he hates this almost as much as I do. How dare he feel bad about the shit he’s putting me through?
I force my spine straight, the only defiance I have left.
Dominik nods as if in approval. Then, he raises his phone again and snaps more shots. The soft click of the camera app is louder than it should be in the silence.
He even takes a photo while kneeling in front of me, making me wish my foot was free so I could kick him in the balls or his face.
“We’re almost finished,” he promises. “Keep your eyes on me.”
I’d rather not. Because there’s something dark in his eyes I can’t misinterpret now.
The bastard is turned on by this little scene.
At least my raging anger at him helps to calm my panic. I won’t be restrained by these ropes or silenced by tape forever with his eyes roaming over every inch of me, as if he’s forgotten that the purpose of these photos is to send my brother a message, and not for his own indulgence.
I feel violated. Like a private, carefully guarded piece of me is being turned into currency for a deal I have no control over.
Will Archer care that I’m being held by the Bratva? Will he give himself up to save me? Or will he leave me to fend for myself and go on with his life carrying the guilt?
“That’s enough.” Dominik finally lowers the phone and gets to his feet. His chest rises and falls as if it were such a strenuous task for him to complete. Sliding the phone back into his suit pocket, he reaches to jerk the tape off my mouth. It’s painful, but at least he did it quickly.
I exhale my first full breath while he stands there and studies me while I’m still at his mercy.
“Good. You’re pissed off now. I prefer that to the hopeless tears.”
“Fuck you.” I hate that he saw me cry.
One corner of his mouth curves up, not in amusement, but in what I think is meant to be respect. “You should be angry, dikaya koshka. It’ll keep you alive longer than the sadness.”
I don’t respond to that, and he finally begins untying the ropes, starting with crouching down to release my ankles.
My right hand is untied last. Dominik doesn’t retreat quickly enough once it’s finally free.
The sting of my palm slapping his smooth, shaven cheek is a welcome burn and the shock on his face makes it well worth it.
Dominik takes a step back, rubbing his face and watching me curiously as if he can’t believe I hit him as I get to my feet, ready to flee the room. “I probably deserved that, but could you at least use your words to fill me in on the specifics of why?”
“You’re a sick bastard for getting off on this!”
“Not many straight men could see you in that sexy outfit with your legs spread wide open and not get turned on, dikaya koshka.”
The use of that same annoying pet name stuns me for a second, more heat building within me, but it isn’t angry heat.
“An outfit I didn’t choose to wear but was forced to put on? My legs spread because of the rope tied to my ankles?”
“I wasn’t thinking about fucking you while you were tied up,” he says, his jaw tight. “I got hard thinking about tugging your panties to the side and burying my tongue in your pussy.”
The image of him doing that to me flashes across my mind, lighting up my libido like the Fourth of July before I quickly throw water on it. I should find the thought revolting, since it doesn’t sound like the mobster would even bother asking me if I wanted his tongue anywhere near me first.
“Ever heard of something called consent?” I snap at him.
“Consent? You’d be screaming for more after the first lick.”
God, he’s so sure of himself, so damn arrogant.
“You’re disgusting,” I scoff.
Dominik slowly moves toward me. “You’re not denying it, though, how much you liked having me kneel before you,” he murmurs.
“And you think you’re a better man than your Pakhan,” I say with a scoff.
“You’re free to go, aren’t you? I’m not holding you down.
I’m not demanding anything or manipulating you,” Dominik replies as he gestures to the doorway of the room.
“You’re the one still standing here like you can’t bring yourself to leave, like you’re waiting for me to follow through on my fantasy. ”
My face burns as I glare at him. I don’t know if his little spat with his Pakhan yesterday supercharged his ego or what, but this whole dirty, flirting scheme isn’t going to work on me.
I storm past him and out of the room so fast I forget about my robe until I’m in the hallway, halfway to the guest room, and standing before two of Dominik’s men I don’t recognize.
One of them immediately turns around to face the opposite direction. The other…does not. He makes a low, appreciative sound that makes my skin crawl.
I feel his eyes still lingering on my ass as I slip into my room.
As soon as the lock clicks, everything in me snaps.
The sudden boom in the hallway hits a second later, so loud it rattles the bedroom walls.
Rough, furious Russian rolls through the air, Dominik’s voice unmistakable even muffled by the door. It’s followed by a vicious, “Get the fuck out!”
I flinch, even though he isn’t yelling at me.
Did he just slam the guard who wouldn’t take his eyes off me into a wall? Fire him? Hurt him? Just for looking at me?
What else could it have been? The thought is too much.
Everything is too much.
My back hits the door, and I slide down until I’m sitting on the floor, knees pulled to my chest.
The moment the hallway goes quiet, the breath I was holding breaks free and the first sob slips out of me.
I press my hand over my mouth, but it doesn’t stop the second or the third one. Tears spill hot and fast down my cheeks.
I told myself I wouldn’t cry, that I wouldn’t let them see me break down. But this…this is a desperate release I didn’t know I needed.
So, I let myself cry for thirty seconds. Only thirty.
Then, I wipe my face with shaking hands and force my body to move again, piece by piece as I get up off the floor.
I have to keep going even when I’m terrified. Terrified of what’s coming, of what I may lose. And terrified of the man just outside that door who’s starting to look like the only safe place left, even if part of me is terrified to trust that.