Chapter 11
Ilya
She’s speechless. I’ve rendered her entirely, hopelessly, beautifully speechless.
Her breasts rise under the loose shirt when she sucks in a shaky breath. A deep bloom of rose rises in her pale cheeks. The spatter of freckles I find so curiously endearing is less enhanced when she blushes. When she wets her lips, my eyes drop to her mouth. She has a beautiful mouth with full, pink lips that deepen in color when she’s angry or—aroused?
I want to kiss her.
The urge to taste her strikes me like a lash. It takes monumentous effort not to lean in and take her lips as I’ve taken her life—for my own.
When her bottom lip wobbles, I harden my resolve against claiming her mouth. She might be affected by my words, but she doesn’t trust me. She doesn’t feel safe with me.
I want her to feel safe with me.
I would protect her with my life.
“Are you hungry?”
Her brows draw close in confusion as she digests my words, and the abrupt turn in conversation. “Um—I—I don’t know.”
She’s in shock. It’s no surprise.
Ignoring my body’s desire to close the small distance between us, I push away. Standing, I pull my phone from my pocket and send a text to my housekeeper. I don’t usually do this, demand her attention in the middle of the night. But after my little captive’s threat to run from me at every chance, I’m not keen to let her run amuck through my house. She might find a door. She might run through the door into the dark, into the snow—into the jaws of one of my dogs who has yet to meet her and does not know she is to be protected—not mauled.
After proper introductions, when I’m confident I will be able to chase my prey, I’ll indulge her in a little game of cat and mouse.
The idea of chasing her through the trees under the light of a full white moon, snow crunching beneath her feet as I track her through the dark. I can see it now, the way her pale hair will glow silver under moonlight, her skin white as porcelain against pale snow. Heat will flare like fire through my veins.
I’ll hunt her. I’ll catch her. And I’ll plunder her.
My cock is stone stiff. Blood rages as it pumps violently inside the chambers of my heart.
Fucking hell. I’ve spent my life kissing women, a desperate and failed attempt to prove to myself that I can experience the burn of excitement. The quickening of my pulse.
Every kiss, every touch, has fallen flat.
And yet, somehow, the anticipation of having her, of claiming her, has my heart coming alive in my chest. I feel more in the anticipation of having her than I ever have while with anyone else.
She flinches when Polina knocks. Her eyes track me as I move across the room, pulling the door open. As I requested, the chicken bone broth and vegetable soup wafts from the bowl that sits on a tray. A small dinner roll and hot cup of chamomile tea accompanies the bowl.
“That will be all for the night, Polina.” I take the tray, close, and lock the door behind me.
When I turn back to my little captive, I find her standing. The bed sits between us, as though she thinks it can stop me if I want to get to her.
Has she learned nothing from earlier?
Nothing can keep me from her.
I carry the tray to the table that sits between two wingback chairs, close to the fireplace. Then I angle the chair so it’s facing the small round table, gesturing at it with a hand. “Chicken and vegetable soup. Tea.”
She eyes me cautiously. Looking down to her exposed legs, she nibbles her lip. Hesitation paints her face. Then she looks with longing at the steaming soup. Hunger flares in her eyes and she swipes the throw blanket from the foot of my bed, wrapping it around her body as she moves nearer.
When she sits, having taken a few bites, she finally lifts her eyes to look at me where I sit in the chair opposite her. I can’t take my eyes off her.
“You know, I have people who will miss me.”
“They will be taken care of.”
She stiffens, the flush in her cheeks from the hot soup draining away quickly. She croaks, “What?”
“I will not kill them.” I eye her and amend, “So long as you behave.”
She lifts her little chin in an act of bravery that falters when her bottom lip wobbles. “I’m tired again.”
“If you wish to shower or use the restroom,” I gesture to another door, and her eyes drift to it before sliding quickly back to me.
She nods once. “Thank you. You can leave now.”
I feel a wick of surprise at her words. Cocking my head to the side, a brow rises. “I can leave?”
She nods again. “Yes. I wish to be alone.”
I almost laugh. I do rise from my chair. A trickle of excitement quickening in me when she stands her ground as I close the space between us. My brave, Little Blue.
I stop in front of her, a breath of space between us. I don’t touch her, however, as I explain, “This is my room, Little Blue.”
“Then I want another room.”
How adorable.“You will share my room, my bed.”
She takes a step back at this. Her face has gone pale again, her blue eyes wide. “I won’t sleep with you.”
“You will. Every night.”
Horror washes the last remnants of the heat of the soup from her face, stealing the bright from her eyes. Her words are an aghast breath between us. “You’re going to rape me?”
My entire body grows stiff. “No. For that, Little Blue, you will beg.”
“I won’t.” Her chin wobbles and she tugs the blanket tighter around her tiny body. I want to pull her close and defeat every fear that plagues her—even if I am the very thing that haunts her.
“You will. For now,” I lift my chin in the direction of my bed. “Sleep.”
“With you?”
My blood heats. I keep my voice steady. Calm. “Yes.”
“No.”
This time, I do reach out for her when the urge strikes. Gripping her chin between thumb and finger, I force her eyes to mine. They slam into me with a force that nearly steals my breath.
Fuck. “You’re mine, Irelynn. Mine. You will sleep next to me every night. I will hold you. I will kiss you. I will touch you, and when you beg me, I will fuck you. Until then, you’ll sleep next to me where I know you are safe.”
Angry tears flood her eyes. “You’re dangerous. I’m not safe with you. I’ve never been in more danger in all my life.”
“You’re right.” I begin coolly, my eyes locking on hers. This is something I need for her to understand. “You’ve never been in the presence of someone as dangerous, as lethal as me. I’ve slain many monsters and have yet to encounter one more deadly than myself. I’ve torn flesh from bone, hearts from chests, and made grown men who own monstrous sins, scream for mercy. I’ve claimed more souls than I can count, and I will claim more before my time comes to an end, this I promise you. But as monstrous as I am, as lethal and dangerous, as toxic and violent, I will only ever be gentle with you. For you, I would lay down my own life. I would trade myself to an eternity of torture, simply to ensure your safety, your comfort.” Her lips part on a shuddering exhale I long to taste. “So, you will sleep next to your monster every night, where I know you are safe, Irelynn. In this, you will behave. This is not a negotiation. Am I understood?”