Chapter 16
NIKOLAI
Night has fallen and the lodge is quiet. The tree stands in the corner of the great room, decorated with ornaments I pulled from storage.
White lights cast shadows across Holly's face as she sits across from me at the dining table, two plates of Katya's pelmeni steaming between us.
"This is incredible," she says, spearing another dumpling. She's on her second glass of wine, her eyes twinkling.
"Katya's been making them since I was a boy."
"Hard to imagine you as a boy." She raises an eyebrow. "What were you like?"
"Feral. Unmanageable."
"Why am I not shocked?"
She takes another bite of pelmeni, and I watch the way her teeth catch her lower lip, trapping a drop of butter before it can escape. Fuck.
It’s hard not to imagine those lips wrapped around my cock. That mouth working me over while I fist my hand in her hair.
I take a long drink of wine. "We need to discuss the rules."
Her fork pauses halfway to her mouth.”The rules?”
“The obvious one being, don’t try to run. You won't make it off this mountain, and I'll be significantly less pleasant when I drag you back."
"Less pleasant than forcing me into marriage? That’s hard to imagine."
I bite back a smile. There's the fire I've come to expect from her. "Understand that this is your life now. This lodge. This marriage. Me."
Something flickers across her face. Something that looks almost like acceptance before she buries it behind another sip of wine.
“Anything else?” she asks.
“Yes, don’t ever take off that ring.”
Our eyes meet over the table, and I see the challenge in hers.
“Excuse me?”
“That wedding ring means something. Don’t take it off.”
“It’s not a ring, Nikolai. It’s a shackle.”
“It declares you as my wife. It stays.”
She starts to slide it off immediately, just to see what I’ll do. "Make me keep it on."
I stand.
She stands.
“Don’t challenge me.”
But I can see the contempt and fire in her eyes.
It’s exactly what she is going to do.
Because this is the only battle she can win in the war.
But only momentarily.
"I'm not yours." She drops the ring on the table.
"Aren't you? You wear my name. You sleep under my roof."
“Because I’m forced to.”
I smile. “But I don’t force you to want me. And there is no mistake you want me.”
"Fuck you, Nikolai."
"Eventually." I start to move. "But not until you ask."
She backs away as I round the table. "I'll never ask."
"We'll see." I drag my fingertips along the tabletop as I move toward her and pick up her ring.
"God, you're arrogant. You really think I'll just fall into bed with you?"
"I think you already want to."
"You are the most delusional human being I’ve ever met."
"Am I?" I move closer. She retreats until her back hits the wall. "Your body doesn't lie, solnyshko. Every time I get close, your pupils dilate. Your breathing changes."
"That's fear."
"Liar." I brace one hand on the wall beside her head. "That's desire."
"You're insane."
"Maybe." I reach between us and slide the ring back on her finger, watching her face. “This doesn’t leave your finger again.”
She swallows thickly. “And if it does?”
“Then I will keep putting it back on.” My voice drops to a growl that promises both pleasure and punishment.
She shudders hard, her body betraying her even as her mouth stays defiant.
Her hands come up, pressing against my chest. "Fuck you.”
My hand moves to her throat, not squeezing, just resting there. Feeling her pulse hammering against my palm. "You can lie to yourself all you want. But your body knows the truth."
"Stop." But there's no conviction in it.
"Make me."
“I hate you.”
"I know you do." I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. They're glazed, pupils blown wide with lust. "But you want to fuck me anyway."
"That's not… I don't…" She's breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Don't what?" My hand slides from her throat to cup her jaw. "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you don't want me to fuck you, and I'll walk away."
“I would never—"
“Never what? Melt beneath my touch? Come on my cock while you dig your nails into my back and beg for more?" Sliding my fingers under her chin I tilt her face up, forcing her to meet my eyes. "We both know that's a lie."
She doesn’t protest. Just looks up at me with those big brown eyes glazed over with lust and hunger.
"That's what I thought." I brush my thumb across her lower lip, watching it fall open beneath my touch. "You don’t hate me as much as you think you do."
"I do hate you." Her voice cracks.
I smile, because I don’t believe her. I lean in until we're sharing breath. "Such a defiant little captive. Your lips say one thing, but the way you’re trembling says something completely different."
Her breathing quickens under my gaze. From the way I have her pinned to the wall.
I lower my voice to almost a whisper.
"I bet if I touched you now, it would only be a matter of seconds before you were moaning my name." I slide a finger slowly down her throat and across her chest where her heart pounds violently beneath my touch.
She gasps as I press closer and cage her fully against the wall.
“You’re an asshole.”
“Yes, I am. But that doesn’t stop you from wanting me.”
My finger trails lower. Down the middle of her chest to the soft curve of her stomach. She trembles, her lips parting. Hating me and wanting me at the same time.
"Tell me, solnyshko, what will I find if I go lower?" I bring my lips to her ears. “Are you wet for me? Are your panties soaked.”
"No…”
“You’re lying. I bet that sweet pussy is drenched.”
“Asshole…”
"So you keep saying." I dip my head, lips hovering over hers. Close enough to taste her next breath. "But you and I both know I’m right."
She shoves me hard in the chest, and pushes me backward. “Enough. What the hell are you trying to prove here? That you can make me want you? That you have that much control?"
"Yes."
The honesty seems to catch her off guard.
“Challenge me, and I will always remind you who is in charge here.”
She laughs bitterly. “You really are an asshole, Nikolai. No wonder you had to kidnap yourself a wife. Because no woman in her right mind would willingly put up with your psychotic, controlling, narcissistic bullshit."
The words hit like a gut punch.
But I won’t let her see it.
"Feel better?" I ask.
"Actually, yes."
“Good.”
She scoffs. “You’re a lost cause, Nikolai Morozov.”
Again, her words rip through my armor and strike me in my weak spot.
What I feel for her.
"Better a lost cause than a fool who thinks this ends any other way than me getting what I want," I say, my voice cold.
She shakes her head. “I’m done with this tonight. I’m going to bed.”
She walks past me but stops at the base of the staircase and looks back. "You know, every time you force my hand, every time you threaten or manipulate or cage me in, you prove exactly why you're alone. That you'd rather have control than connection. And deep down I think you know it."
She runs up the stairs to her bedroom, and the door slams a moment later.
I drain my vodka and pour another.
And lie to myself that she is wrong.