Chapter 20
Varvara
Lying in the dark, Lev’s arm wrapped around me, I shift slightly, aching in places after being fucked a second time, and then a third and a fourth.
He stirs but doesn’t wake, even as his grip tightens.
He’s possessive even in sleep. I wonder if I’ll ever see my flat again.
I wonder if I even want to. My whole life is now contained within four walls and a locked door.
It’s terrifying. It’s also the first time I’ve felt as though I truly belong somewhere since my mother died.
I shift again, needing to get up for water.
“Don’t,” he murmurs, his arm tightening around my waist.
“Thirsty.”
“I’ll get you some water.”
“You’re sleeping.”
“Not anymore.”
He climbs out of bed, having roused himself to get me a glass of water.
“I am capable of getting it myself,” I say, taking it. “But thank you.”
“I know you are. But you don’t have to. I’m here now, Varvara. I will take care of you. Understand?”
He climbs back into bed, and I take a sip of the water to hide my, not unease, exactly, but the feeling his words invoke. It’s hard to put into words.
“You don’t need to—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I do and I will.”
End of story. His tone is final; it’s set in stone.
The cage is gold, and the keeper is a monster, but for the first time in years, the world outside isn’t my problem. He made it his. I settle back down, and he pulls me against his chest.
“Sleep now,” he murmurs.
Closing my eyes, I drift off to the sound of his breathing.
Jerking violently, I wake alone. The absence of his heat is noticeable. Too noticeable. The sheets are a mess, a reminder of the night I spent losing myself to a man who shouldn’t have my name on his tongue. I sit up and push my hair back. My body feels heavy and marked.
Climbing out of bed, I walk to the window and watch the guards in the garden. One of them looks up, sensing movement, and then quickly looks down, turning his back.
I squeak and cover my tits with my hands a bit too late and back away. He must’ve seen everything.
I jump a mile when the door opens, and Lev enters, looking sharp in a dark grey suit that highlights the hard lines of his face. He carries a small box. He looks at me, clutching my tits, with an intensity that unsettles me.
He blinks slowly, and his expression turns murderous as he shuts the door. “Who was in here?”
“No one,” I stammer, my face burning as I try to shrink into myself. “I was just looking out the window. I didn’t think.”
He drops the box onto the dresser with enough force to make the wood groan. He doesn’t look at the box; his blue eyes are fixed on me, dark with a rage that makes my heart skip. “The guard. Did he see you?”
“He looked up. It was a second, Lev. I moved back. I didn’t think. I’m not used to—”
“I’ll have his fucking eyes,” he says. He doesn’t shout, but the quiet intensity is far more frightening. He stalks toward me, his presence filling every inch of the room.
“Stop being a fucking psycho. It wasn’t his fault.” I scramble for my oversized tee; he must’ve picked it up and draped it over the armchair. “I forgot they were there. I’m not used to armed guards being outside the fucking window.”
He stops inches from me. He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t need to. “You’re mine. Every inch. If another man looks at what belongs to me, he pays. That’s the rule.”
“Your rules are psychotic.”
“Get used to them,” he says, ignoring my insult.
I roll my eyes, though my pulse gives me away before I can stop it, and gesture to the box. “You’re exhausting. Is that a bomb or my breakfast?”
“Open it.”
I lift the lid. A brand-new phone sits inside, the screen dark and polished. I pick it up, surprised.
“It’s tracked. Every call, every message, every location ping goes to me. I’ve already put my number in. It’s the only one that works.”
I stare at the device. “So it’s an electronic leash.”
“It’s a lifeline. Use it if you’re in trouble. Or if you want to tell me how much you miss coming on my cock.”
“In your dreams, Voronov.”
“We already established what happens in my dreams. Get dressed.”
“Why?”
“You will witness what your actions have set in motion.”
Blood drains from my face. “What do you mean?”
“Get dressed, Varvara.” He gives me an expectant look that makes me move.
I gather up yesterday’s clothes and pull them all on, trying to look respectable. “I’d rather have a shower.”
“Later. Move.” He opens the door, and I step out, barefoot again.
He leads me down the hallway and the stairs, through the sitting room to the French doors.
I gulp and plant my feet.
“Outside,” he says, opening the doors.
I hesitate, but when his eyes darken, I brush past him, stepping out onto the cool flagstones that sit in the shade of the house. The sun is already up, bright and warm, and I squint as I wait for Lev.
“Which one was it?” he asks.
“I’m not telling you,” I say, lifting my chin. “This is ridiculous.”
“Tell me, Varvara, or I punish all of them.”
“No. You will do no such thing.”
His eyes widen a fraction in surprise before they narrow to two slits. “You are telling me how to run my household.”
“I’m telling you to stop being a dick.”
The two guards who are closest to us freeze.
“Excuse me?” Lev says, his tone giving away the fact that he finds that amusing as opposed to insulting.
“It was an accident. The guard did exactly what he was supposed to do. He sensed movement and looked up. Then he looked away the second he realised it was me.”
Lev steps into my space, his shadow engulfing me. “He saw you naked. No other man gets to see you naked.”
“It was an accident. It won’t happen again. You think I like showing my bits off to anyone who will look?”
His expression darkens, rage flickering in his eyes. “You had better not. Last chance,” he murmurs, his thumb catching my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Which one?”
“I’m not doing this.”
He does not move, but the air seems to freeze. “Fine. Then you will take the punishment.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You either tell me who it was, or I take you back upstairs and punish you instead.”
“How dare you?” I hiss, but I know he is baiting me.
Too bad he doesn’t know how stubborn I can be.
“You’re choosing to protect them over yourself?” he asks.
“I’m choosing not to be a total prick.”
The guards stand frozen. They stare at the brickwork.
Lev doesn’t flinch. He stands there, solid and immovable. “If that is your choice, then since you’re so intent on protecting my staff, you can bear the weight of their failure.”
He reaches out, his fingers locking around my wrist. He walks back towards the French doors, dragging me along. The humiliation burns worse than the cold stones under my feet. The guards don’t look. They don’t breathe.
“Lev.”
“You decided,” he says, taking me back inside and marching through the sitting room and back up the stairs.
I don’t fight him as we hit the landing. There’s no point. He’s a force of nature fuelled by a dark, archaic sense of territory. He hauls me into the bedroom and slams the door.
“Take off your clothes,” he commands.
His voice is thick, vibrating with a frequency that makes my knees weak. I stare at him, my pulse erratic. “You said punishment, not a repeat performance.”
“In my world, they are the same thing when you defy me.” He tosses his jacket onto the armchair and unbuttons his shirt. “You want to play the martyr for the help? Fine. But you’ll learn that every time you shield someone else from me, I take the tax from you.”
“You’re a monster,” I whisper, even as my fingers reach for the hem of my tee.
“I’m your monster, moya sladkaya.” He stalks forward, his shadow swallowing me before he even reaches out. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
I pull the tee over my head and drop it. I’m trembling with lingering fear and a shameful, soaring heat. He watches me with a hunger that feels like it could consume the room.
“Kneel,” he says.
I hesitate for a heartbeat, my pride screaming, but the look in his blue eyes is absolute. I sink to my knees on the thick carpet. He stands over me, a god of ink and iron. He doesn’t touch me yet, but the air is electric.
“You think you’re brave for standing up to me,” he murmurs, his hand finally coming down to cup my jaw. “But you’re just making it easier for me to keep you, because now I know exactly how to break you, Varvara. I just have to threaten the things you try to protect.”
“You think you’re breaking me?” I whisper, my gaze on his, unmoving. “You are the one who is breaking, Lev.”
His eyes flash with a danger that spikes my blood, but I don’t look away. He laughs, a low, grating sound. His thumb presses into the hollow of my throat.
“I’m breaking?” he asks. He lets go of my jaw and unfastens his belt. The heavy leather snaps. “I’m going to show you exactly how broken I am.”
He wraps the belt around his hand, the leather creaking in the silence. My heart hammers against my ribs, a trapped bird seeking exit. He uses the strap to tilt my head back. He looks down at me, his expression a mask of ruthless possessiveness.
“You won’t give me a name because you think you’re being noble,” he says, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “But all you’ve done is ensure that I focus every bit of my frustration on you. Open your mouth.”
I do it. Not because I’m broken, but because the air in the room has become too thick to breathe without him.
“You want to be a martyr?” he whispers, his thumb tracing my lower lip.
“Then suffer me.” He unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, hard, enormous, and twitching.
He grips the back of my head and shoves the head of his cock into my mouth.
I moan softly as my jaw drops to take in his size.
My hands go up to grip the hem of his undone shirt, and he lets me as he takes control.
He fucks my face, holding me where he wants me as he thrusts his cock deep into my mouth.