Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
ARTEM
D inner had been tense.
It had started so well and for a moment, I thought we were both enjoying ourselves. Then it all fell apart when I found out about the little mind games her professor had been playing.
The rest of the dinner she was practically mute.
She would speak to answer my questions in one or two words. Her earlier curiosity about my work, or how I knew her brother, had vanished like smoke.
The mood had soured, and the food tasted like sawdust in my mouth. Her appetite must have disappeared with mine. She pushed her food around her plate but barely ate a thing, the beautiful curve of her lips set in a tight line.
When I put my hand on her lower back to escort her down the cold hallway to her apartment, she flinched from my touch before correcting herself.
I fought the urge to grip her tighter, to remind her who she belonged to.
The thin fabric of her dress did nothing to mask the heat of her skin beneath my palm. I could feel every breath she took, every subtle shift of her muscles.
She said nothing as I guided her, but I could feel the tension in her body, and how it intensified the closer we got to her door.
This time, I'd shoulder part of the blame. The meetings I had earlier hadn't gone to plan, and when I found out that some half-wit professor was tearing down my girl, trying to make her vulnerable so he could make a move, I nearly lost control.
Nearly. If it wasn't for the clumsy waitress dropping the plate and breaking my focus, I would have. This had to end. I couldn't have such a precarious grasp on my temper and still be the cold, effective leader I needed to be.
It was easy to see what changed.
Her.
Something about her brought unpredictability and emotions out in me.
I knew that. What I didn't know was how to solve the problem.
Did I need to claim her, make sure she knew she was mine?
Really mine—marked and claimed in ways she couldn't deny?
My cock throbbed painfully against my zipper at the thought of bending her over right here in this hallway, hiking up that dress, and showing her exactly who she belonged to.
Or should I break her so she lost her fight, and I would lose interest?
Did I need to trick her into loving me, so she became my escape like Samara was for Gregor?
Or did I just need to be rid of her?
Letting her go wouldn't be enough.
If I knew she was still out there, I would hunt her down, then I would be no better off than Gregor.
If I decided to get rid of her, to eliminate the distraction, it would mean killing her.
It wouldn't be the worst thing I had done in service of my family's ambitions, but my stomach churned at the thought even crossing my mind.
I never lost control, but the more time I spent around her, the more my grip was slipping. Watching her walk ahead of me, the gentle sway of her hips, the graceful curve of her neck, it was all I could do not to shove her against the wall and devour her.
Maybe I could be strong enough to leave her be. Make her stay in the apartment while she completed her studies and trust in my men to monitor her while I did my best to focus on Solovyov and then Gregor.
It was clear that was what she wanted.
She saw the moment my mask slipped earlier.
I only gave her the briefest peek at the monster inside, but she saw it.
Viktoria saw everything.
It was one of the things that I found so fascinating about her. I wanted to know exactly what was going on behind those beautiful eyes all the time.
Her skill for careful, quiet observation was one of the many reasons I knew that leaving her alone could never really be an option.
"Thank you for dinner," she said as we reached her door and she stepped inside, partially closing the door between us. Her voice was soft, uncertain, a stark contrast to the fire I'd seen in her eyes just hours ago when she was writhing beneath me.
"Viktoria—" I warned.
I could still taste her on my tongue from this morning. Could still feel the silken heat of her wrapped around me. My body ached to have her again, to pin her wrists above her head and remind her who she belonged to.
She looked up at me with those striking eyes of hers, and I saw it.
That addictive defiance and fight staring back at me.
She held my gaze, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. She wanted to fight me, but not to win. Not really. She wanted me to prove that I could win. That I was worthy to dominate her and make her mine.
God, I loved rising to that challenge. Literally.
The sweet struggle before surrender. But there was something else tonight.
Maybe that was why she took up so much of my mind. She craved my dominance as much as I craved her obstinance. The knowledge that she was still tender from our earlier activities only intensified my desire. I could be gentle. I could make her forget everything except my name on those perfect lips.
As she stared at me, I felt the tension shift.
She was demanding some autonomy.
I could push the point and control her anyway. Remind her how much she loved being under me, her legs wrapped around my waist, her nails digging into my back as she begged for more.
But that didn't feel like the right move.
Not tonight.
The next time I sank into her sweet body, I wanted her to be desperate for it. For that, I was going to need to give her a little time. Remind her what it was like to go to sleep cold and alone, so she remembered waking up in my bed was far preferable. Let her body heal just enough that when I took her again, the pleasure would overpower everything else.
If I took her now, she would resent me for it, not crave it. She was too angry to behave, but too smart to do something that deserved another punishment.
If I pushed her, eventually that fire would be snuffed out, and that was one thing I was not willing to kill. Tame, yes, but never kill.
Right now, I didn't need to guess what she was thinking. She was upset, worried that I was going to somehow make the situation with her professor worse. So there was no way that she was going to invite me inside that apartment.
I understood.
I even understood her fear that things with her professor would get worse. The fact remained that it wasn't possible for me to drop it.
That professor was using her, isolating her from everyone else in the class, so when he tried to fuck her for a passing grade, she would have no recourse.
Either she would do it and he would make her do all types of depraved things, probably keeping a recording of it if he was anything like the other vultures I had dealt with before. Or she would try to fight it.
Since he spent so much time in the class discrediting her, no one would believe her. They would think that she was as stupid as he implied, and as slutty, and that she tried to come on to him and when he said no for his ethical values, she went to the dean.
It was slimy, underhanded, and the act of a coward who wanted to be top dog but just didn't have the balls. This was likely not the first time he had played this game. I would ensure it would be the last.
But I couldn't tell her that.
Not yet. Not until it was done. Just in case it went sideways, I wanted her to have plausible deniability.
"You're welcome," I said, leaning against the doorframe, sticking my foot inside so she couldn't slam it in my face. Not that it would have made too much of a difference.
I had a key.
She knew I had a key.
She knew she couldn't stop me from coming in if that was what I wanted to do. That didn't stop her from trying to take a stand. Try to get some semblance of control in her life.
My gaze dropped to her mouth, remembering her sweet taste, the way her lips parted on a gasp when I thrust into her. My hands itched to grab her, to feel the softness of her skin, to tear away the flimsy barrier of her clothes.
"Did you enjoy dinner?" I asked, rougher than I intended.
"It was great, but…"
"But?" I prompted when her words trailed off. I watched the pulse flutter at the base of her throat. I could almost hear her heartbeat quickening, smell the faint hint of desire mixing with her fear.
"I'm tired and I still have a lot of coursework to do." Her eyes darted away from mine, unable to maintain the lie.
She didn't have any coursework to do. She just wanted to prove she had some control.
The question was, how much control could she be trusted with?
I let her live in a dorm, and she shattered that trust when she put herself in danger. She showed poor impulse control and was alarmingly na?ve. Then she had the audacity to come to my home and scream at me for putting her in a beautiful apartment. That suggested questionable self-preservation instincts.
This girl needed to be in a bubble.
Still, understanding the family that she was raised in, I understood her need for some type of agency. Knowing now how she was constantly humiliated and belittled by her professor, I could even see why she was desperate for some control in her life.
I'd give it to her...for now.
"Have it your way, for tonight. Tonight only, princess." I reached for her, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck to pull her close before kissing her forehead. My body burned where it touched hers, even through our clothes.
I inhaled deeply, committing her scent to memory.
"Lock the door. Stay in tonight. It isn't safe." I let my lips brush against her ear as I spoke, feeling her shiver in response.
Viktoria eyed me like she was waiting for the punchline or for it to be some trick. When nothing happened after a beat, she closed the door, flipped the deadbolt, and even slid the door chain closed.
Smart girl.
Not that a silly little chain would've stopped me if I wanted her.
And god, how I wanted her.
Heading down the cold hallway, I nodded to the security guard I had stationed at the end of the hall. My cock still throbbed with need. I adjusted my stance to hide the evidence of my arousal.
"All quiet, sir."
"Good. Let me know if that changes or she tries to go somewhere. No one comes in here tonight. Understood?"
"Yes, sir." He nodded, and I headed down to the lobby. There were three more I passed before I got to the man at the front desk. Ivan had worked for my family for years, as had his father. There was no one I trusted more.
"You have your orders," I said, and he nodded and opened the door for me.
The brisk DC air cut through the fine wool of my coat, but I took a minute to savor it. The cold was a welcome relief against my overheated skin. Maybe it would calm the fire raging through my veins.
The cold air was in stark contrast to the heat between Viktoria and me.
With her, I could never tell the exact moment when the heat turned from anger to passion or back again. I was just as swept up in it as she was. Tonight I'd sleep without her body curled against mine. The thought left me aching and hollow.
The shrill ring of my phone cut through the quiet night and I answered it, not even bothering to look at who was calling.
"What?" I said as I climbed into my car.
My mind was still upstairs with her, imagining her stripping off that dress, sliding naked between the sheets.
Pavel's voice was on the other end. His tone was emotionless, professional. That was never a good sign. "We have a problem."