LEV
It wasn’t enough to only watch Mila train. Standing off to the side, I felt too distant from her. That was why I’d started to incorporate myself into training with her.
Instead of hawking over her progress during the day, I stayed busy with keeping up on the tasks expected of me.
I attended meetings. I killed traitors and liars. I backed Dean up at another run to assist the Garcias near the border.
But come evening, I headed to the training facility. Seeing her there was the reward I wanted to look forward to all day. Rather than drag her along with me in the hopes of breaking her and getting her to talk to me more, I shifted course and allowed the separation during the day.
Roman and his trainers could mold her into a combat fighter. I was still leaning on having her work for us as a spy. She was too stealthy not to be employed for something like that.
But in terms of trying to reach her and break her damnable stubborn and tough exterior, it seemed that this kind of communication was better.
Physical touches. Silent debates with nothing more than a look of an eye or a twinge of a limb moving.
Getting closer to her with the disguise of sparring with her seemed to work more than asking questions and never getting a reply.
Nikolai joined me as we walked back to my car after handling a situation with members of the Konstantin family.
A smaller faction of a rival group, they represented a nuisance in the city.
It was never anything too in-depth, and usually, a “slap on the wrist” conveyed the lesson to them not to mess with us or our businesses.
“Why not just… fuck her into telling you what you want to know?” he asked when he called me out on how committed I was to personally training with her every evening.
I hated to admit that I wanted her, and that I was using this as a way to get closer to her.
I shook my head. “Like that hasn’t been done before?” I shot him a skeptical look.
He nodded, letting out a deep breath as he settled into the passenger seat. “If she was sold when she was twelve, there’s no way…” He looked out the window. “Fuck. Twelve, man. That’s so young.”
We didn’t deal with human trafficking all that much. If we did, it was women, prostitutes well past adolescence. Now that Adrik was going to be a father himself, I doubted he’d be open to starting his reign as the Pakhan by selling children, either.
“There’s no way she hasn’t been raped already,” I told him bluntly.
“She’s too tense and guarded not to have been treated like that.
” And something deep inside me wanted to rage at her being mistreated at all.
She was still such a stranger to me, but something in her eyes haunted me.
Her inner strength spoke to me on an elemental level.
The challenge she presented coaxed me to tame her, to show that controlling the narrative of her being here would benefit us both.
“What are you even after?” he asked. “As far as her being an employee here…” He shrugged. “She’s solid. Adrik trusts her. You want to know her story and shit? Like get to know her for something long-term?”
I was after her. Owning her—and not with just a contract.
“I’m not even sure anymore,” I admitted because that summed up the mystery of how fiercely she captured my attention. All I knew was that I wanted her, and using force or torture to get her to submit did not seem like the right way to go.
When I entered the training facility, I zeroed in on her. Most of the gym was empty, and those who were still working out seemed to be wrapping up. Roman nodded at me in hello as I entered.
“Better watch it,” he warned jokingly, aware that I was here to continue training with her personally. I bet he wondered why I was so invested in her, like Nikolai had been. Roman knew better than to ask me, though. “She’s been tough today.”
I smiled. “I look forward to it.”
“I mean it. A real spitfire.” He chuckled. “It’s probably time to advance her and see how she handles weaponry next.” He furrowed his brow. “Unless she’s still a flight risk or whatever.”
I shook my head. Mila was not fleeing. I wouldn’t let her run from me until I could solve this enigmatic allure of her in my life at all.
She glanced back at me from where she’d been taking out her energy on that punching bag.
Without a greeting, only clicking with each other with an intense look of acknowledgment, she headed toward me.
She was ready. I didn’t have to ask. There was no point in greeting her or anything like that. The reason for my presence here was implied.
I beckoned for her to come at me, and she did. Like this, with the cover of training, there was no hesitation for her to address me physically. Before even a half hour had passed, we were both panting and sweating, equally primed and warmed up in sparring and trying to defeat each other on the mat.
Roman was right. I huffed a laugh when she got me down on my back. I fought the fantasy of her following me down the rest of the way and kissing me. Of licking the sweat off me as she ground against me.
“You are in a mood today,” I admitted.
“Too much for you to handle?” she asked.
The sarcasm. The taunt. Fuck me, the confidence in her almost sassing me back as she started to crawl off.
My dick ached and I bit my lip not to grin.
Was this really working?
Was she able to let me in—at all—because we weren’t trying to sit and chat but work out and beat each other into exhaustion as she learned how to fight hard?
She was pushing back just enough to keep me on my toes, and I wanted to take it as an invitation for more. For more chances to peel the layers back and see her.
I rolled over swiftly, grabbing her before she could fully get off me and stand for another round.
Her breath shot out of her as a grunt of surprise. I snaked my arm around her waist and twisted into the momentum to pin her to the mat.
She blinked up at me, and I reveled in the fight in her eyes. The fire of wanting to push back, to engage with me at all.
“Too much?” I replied, throwing her words back at her. Making sure she couldn’t miss how she really was too much for me, too much of a temptation, I pushed my hips against hers and wedged her in place.
Her throat flexed with a hard swallow. Mesmerized by the instant flare of heat in her eyes, I steadied my breath.
“You got me there,” she muttered wryly. She wriggled to get up, pushing at me, but I didn’t budge.
“I do.” I leaned down, committing her to memory like this. Her face flushed. Those pink lips parted as she panted. The pure desire flashing in those twin blue orbs of her eyes that always snagged me. “I’ve got you.”
She licked her lip and stared me down.
“Maybe it’s time to practice more on how to get out of a hold.”
That wasn’t my intention at all. But if we could let this tension between us simmer with the excuse of sparring on the mat for her training, I would use it as much as I could to get her to submit.
“Out of a hold?” she repeated, skeptical.
I nodded, dipping lower. I ran my hand along her side, ending with a possessive clutch on her hip.
“You think you can get away from me? Like this?” I dipped my hips again, not only to further lock her into place with my body weight over hers but to let her feel how miserably fucking hard I was getting for her.
Again. I was in a perpetual state of being hard for her—something only bearable with jerking off to the idea of her every night or morning.
Her lids fluttered as she gaped at me. If she let one of those sexy-as-fuck little whimpers of need escape, or a moan, I was done for. My control was so close to snapping as it was. I held on by a thin thread with the desperation that she wouldn’t hide from me or put up a wall again.
But then she furrowed her brow, snapping to with that defiant fight I fucking adored.
She pushed at me. Wiggled. Twisted. When she used her arms to free them and push at me, I grabbed them with one hand, using my body weight to trap her to the mat, and held both her hands above her head.
Panting harder and with more need so bright in her eyes, she frowned at me.
“Giving up already?” I teased. I dragged my mouth along her jaw, bringing my lips toward her ear. “Or are you not so sure you want to get away?”
“I…”
Please.
Don’t stop.
Finish that.
Tell me.
Tell me anything.
“I…” She shook her head until I closed my lips around her earlobe and sucked hard. The buck of her smaller body against mine wasn’t a faltering attempt to get away. It was instinct, more proof of how she responded to my touch.
“I…”
“What, Mila?” I whispered, kissing a slow path down her slender neck. Her chest rose and fell faster under me, and she did it. She gave it to me.
One of those sounds.
The quiet grunts of need.
The soft whimpers of being impatient.
“I…”
I leaned up to face her frown. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t that on-the-brink-of-panic expression I hated to see on her. “Tell me what you want.”
She shook her head.
“What I want doesn’t matter,” she whispered.
Lights turned off from the other side of the gym, the motion sensors killing them since we were the only ones in the entire facility now.
“What you want from me is all that fucking matters,” I argued in a low growl. To demonstrate how much I meant that, I closed the distance between us. I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t hold back a second longer. I had been riding the slow-burning ride too long and I was going to snap.
I sealed my lips over hers, stealing her breath and muffling her sound of surprise as I closed in on her. As I preyed on her. As I tempted her to submit.
Please.
Let me in.
She stiffened at first, but as I brushed my mouth over hers and ground my erection against her, she gasped. Moving against me and kissing me back slightly, she lost some of the tension in her body.
Please. Just like this. Let me in, Mila.
Her fingers uncoiled, and as she tipped her head and angled it to the side, I saw it as a sign of her acquiesce. Of that surrender I coveted and demanded.
Before I could scare her off, I reared back and reveled in the lust in her expression, the sweet sound of protest as she let out a noise. “Tell me what you want.”
“I… don’t know how.”
Her admission cut at my heart. Maybe she didn’t know how to tell anyone what she wanted, so used to her life as a slave and nothing more. Or perhaps she wasn’t sure about how to vocalize her desire, never having been in the position to feel it.
But that ended now.
I kissed her again, too desperate to show her that she could find her way with me. Before I could really taste her and commit the map of her sweet mouth to memory, I pulled back again.
“Then I’ll follow your lead.”
“My lead?”
I responded with another kiss, sealing my mouth over hers until she opened up to me.
When she slid her tongue alongside mine, I groaned with need and let her hear and feel how I wanted more.
When she turned her hands and I twined my fingers with hers, I let her register the grip of my hold so she’d know that I sensed her need to be grounded.
I licked and nipped, sucking at her mouth and grinding against her. We moved as one on the mat as I kissed her and let her acclimate to what this could be like, this raw sexual tension we couldn’t pretend wasn’t there, this greedy hunger that no one could stop us from sharing.
She led me. With her moving against me, arching her back and squeezing my hand, she gave me the cues she wasn’t aware of having. And as I lowered my free hand toward her stomach, then lower as I slipped it between us, I waited for her to show me how much more she wanted.
“You want this?” I asked, rubbing her pussy as I slanted toward the side of her. Still pinning her in place, I stroked my fingers over her cunt, smearing her juices and arousal.
“I… I…” She gasped, trembling as she parted her legs only a little. “I don’t know how.”
“Then you follow my lead.” I silenced her with my mouth, kissing her senseless as I began to pull at her clothes.
Her shorts and panties were gone with a rough shove of my hands, but it was harder to free my cock just as fast. She gripped my hand so tightly as I kept her arms over her head that I didn’t want to release her.
Limited to one hand to stroke over her entrance and then line myself up, I tried to pace it.
I tried not to hurry because once this was over, I would be under the countdown of needing her once more.
I wedged her legs further apart until she hooked them around my waist. The slippery slickness of her entrance teased me. The hot arousal that aided my cockhead into her taunted me to slam all the way in and claim her once and for all.
“Tell me, Mila. Tell me you want my dick stuffing your tight cunt.”
She gasped at the stretch of my head pushing in. “Oh, fuck.”
I kissed her again, nipping her lips. “Tell me. Let me in, Mila. Before I fucking go insane.”
She cried out as I slid in more. But it wasn’t a protest. It was pure need, frustration to splinter apart. “I want—” She gasped again and arched her back as I claimed another inch.
“Fuck. You’re so tight. So fucking tight.” She gloved me mercilessly, and I pressed my face against hers as I strained not to come too soon. She was swallowing me in like no other woman ever had.
“I need to… I need…”
She couldn’t find the words now. She was barely hanging on as it was. We’d work on getting her to speak up next time. Right now, I heard the desperation in her tone. I felt the trembling need in her body.
I kissed her again as I thrust the rest of the way in.
She was letting me in. Not only with my dick all the way in her pussy, in to the hilt. But also into her life. She was opening up to me, and I refused to ever let her have the slack to hide or shut me out again.
She was mine. And as I fucked her hard and fast, not letting her breathe long enough with this burning need to kiss her as she came, I knew nothing would change that.
Mila was mine.
To own.
But as she clenched around my dick and made me come with her in a blinding bliss, I felt like this was only the beginning.
I owned her, and I wouldn’t give up possession anytime soon.
Her submission tonight was too rushed, too incomplete. Because while she quivered and moaned at the intensity of her orgasm, I flooded her with my cum and looked forward to the next lesson of how she could be led to submit to me again.
And again.
I doubted I’d ever get enough of this euphoria of her pussy throbbing and squeezing me so tightly. Like there was no start or end between us anymore. Like we could be one, bound in the forbidden chains of desire.