Chapter 18 - Danica
DANICA
The mattress dips under Vadim's weight as he sets me down gingerly like I might shatter. I stare at the ceiling blankly and lie there shivering. My body is present but my mind's somewhere else entirely, replaying the moment Marko's gun pressed against my temple. He would've killed me. I know it.
"Here." Vadim presses a glass of water into my hand, followed by two white pills. Then he helps me sit up, though I feel woozy. "Take these."
I look at the aspirin in my palm and realize I'm trying hard to close my fingers around them but my hands won't cooperate. I feel numb and paralyzed by all this heavy emotion. I'm seeing the world, but interaction feels so difficult, like slogging through chest-deep mud. What's happening to me?
"I can't," I whisper.
"You need to—"
"I need a drink," I grunt, and I don't mean water. Water is good, but it's not going to take the edge off what I’m feeling. This oppressive heaviness is crushing my soul. I can’t feel my limbs. My vision is dim and blurry.
But Vadim sighs and rubs his face before walking out of the room. I sit there waiting for him, so weak and out of it, I can't respond when I notice the pills drop from my hand and the water start to spill to my leg and the floor below.
Marko's not going to stop hunting me until he kills me.
He keeps coming back for more and more. When this started, Dusan barely owed a thing, but every time I miss a payment, Marko jacks up the total.
I can't make Vadim pay that money to him.
It isn't right. This is my brother’s debt, not his, and I don't want to just become indebted to someone else.
When Vadim returns, he carries a bottle of rakija and a single glass.
He pours a measure and offers it to me, but I reach past the glass and take the bottle instead.
The brandy is exactly what I need and I'm so numb, I hardly feel the burn as I chug from it, large, painful gulps that stretch my neck and make me wince.
"Easy," Vadim says, pressing the bottle back down. He doesn't take it, but he slows me from downing the whole thing at once.
A whimper is my only response, though I don't lift it to my lips again.
I'm trapped. There's no way out. Staring blankly at the wall again, I try to imagine what life will be like for me in whatever bleak future I have, and all I see is bondage and desperation. "I'm a slave… no matter what happens."
"You're not enslaved to me." Vadim crouches in front of me and gently removes the bottle from my hand now. He sets it on the table and cradles my hands in his so gently, but I'm too distraught to notice how he's acting.
"Aren't I?" I turn to look him in the eyes as I feel tears well up, but nothing moistens my cheeks.
It's like my eyes burn to shed them, but my soul is bone dry now.
"You saved my life, Vadim. But whatever you thought you owed me for marrying you—it's nothing compared to this.
The balance has tipped so far in your favor, I'll never crawl out from under it. "
"That's not how I see it, Rodnaya…" He speaks softly, but I grimace at the words. I don't know why he's saying that, and why would he say it with those words? I'm not his dear.
"You're an idiot." I reach for the bottle and bring it to my lips to drink again, deeper this time, feeling the warmth spread through my chest. "Or a liar," I gasp as I take a breath and use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth.
Vadim pushes some hair out of my face, then dusts my knees off. They're covered in dirt and tiny shards of glass from my broken dishes on the floor.
"Why won't you just leave me alone?" The words burst out of me and finally, a sob erupts, and more tears emerge. And now I can't stop them again. "You got me out. You saved me. Why are you still here?"
"Because I blame myself." Vadim grabs the bottle and won't let me tip it up again. "I asked you for that information so I could pay your brother's debt off, but I never pressed when you didn't deliver. I let it slide. And that bastard came hunting you because of it."
"That's not—" I shake my head as the alcohol buzz starts to warm my neck and shoulders. "It's not your fault. I never wanted your money. I could've left Serbia when Marko came after me the first time and I—"
"Stop."
"Should've. I should've run away, or I don't know, maybe just let Marko kill me the first time he asked and saved everyone the trouble—"
"Danica—"
"Because now you're stuck with me and I'm stuck owing you and Dusan's gone and everything is just so completely fucked—"
Vadim rises up on his knees and takes both of my cheeks in his hands in a hard embrace and presses his lips to mine. It's enough of a shock to make me stop protesting and babbling, and when he doesn't back away, I open my mouth to him and let him consume me as the tears continue to flow.
I grab the front of his jacket with both hands and pull him closer, kissing him with all the desperate, chaotic energy that's been building inside me for hours.
His hands move to my waist, anchoring me to something solid when everything else feels like it's dissolving around me, and this is just what I need.
This tangible thing that snaps me out of the emotion and forces me to be present with him.
I pull him down onto the bed, and he comes willingly, his weight pressing me backward into the mattress. His mouth moves to my jaw, my throat, and I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair.
"Vadim—"
"Stop talking," he murmurs against my skin, and I do, because for once, I don't want to think. I don't want to feel anything except his hands and his mouth, the solid reality of him against me.
Vadim's weight presses me into the mattress, and I arch up to meet him, desperate for the contact. His mouth moves from lips to my jaw, trailing heat down my throat as I tip my head back to give him better access. His teeth graze my pulse point, and I shudder.
"You're shaking," he says against my skin.
"I know," I mutter, "but I need this."
He growls and his hand slides up my side, pushing my shirt higher, and I help him pull it over my head. The cool air hits my skin, but Vadim's palms are warm as they map the newly exposed territory. He touches me like he's memorizing every curve, every angle, and it makes my breathing grow ragged.
I reach for his shirt, tugging at the hem until he leans back and strips it off in one fluid motion.
The scars I've glimpsed before are more visible now, pale lines crisscrossing his torso, and I trace one with my fingertips.
He watches me do it, his jaw tight, and then he catches my wrist and pins it above my head as his eyes lock with mine.
This man saved my life today without even hesitating. He could've ignored the call and left me to Marko's mercy, but he came for me. Vadim ran right into the fire to save me and I don't even really belong to him. What does that say about him? And what does it say about what he thinks of me?"
"Danica," he growls as his lips crash into mine again.
His free hand slides down my stomach, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of my jeans, and I groan when his fingers dance over my mound.
He pauses, giving me a chance to stop this, but I lift my hips in silent permission.
He makes quick work of the button and zipper, sliding the fabric down my legs until I can kick it off entirely.
"I thought he was going to kill you," he growls against my mouth, and I can only whimper.
I thought the same thing, but never once did it occur to me that I'd miss this—the chemistry and the connection I have with this man.
I was too afraid to think straight. But now I wonder why Vadim ran headfirst into danger to save me.
Why would he do that for me?
He pulls away but I immediately reach for him, pulling him back down. Our mouths crash together, and his hand slides between my thighs. I moan into his mouth when his fingers find me and stroke me, building the tension until I'm writhing beneath him.
"Oh, God…" I whisper, and he pulls his hand away.
I whimper at the loss, but then I hear the sound of his belt buckle, the rasp of a zipper, and anticipation coils in my stomach.
He shoves his pants down and tears them off.
Then he tosses his shirt and crawls back over me, and then he's settling between my thighs, his cock pressing against my entrance.
"Look at me," he says, and I look up at his face where his eyes bore into mine like he can see my soul as he slides into me inch by inch.
The sensation is overwhelming, almost too much, and I dig my nails into his ribs. He groans, his forehead dropping to rest against mine, and for a moment we just breathe together. Being joined to him is loud enough that the other noise in my head fades and all I can think about is him.
Then he starts to move. The first thrust draws a groan from my lips, and I wrap my legs around his waist to take him deeper.
I cling to him, meeting his movements with my own rocking hips.
I'm lost in him, fully immersed in this moment so that nothing else in the world could come between us or remind me of life outside these walls.
Vadim is everything right now—his eyes locked on mine, his hand groping my breast, and the way he fills me and makes me forget my name. It's intoxicating how he can hypnotize me so thoroughly and I wouldn't change a thing.
"You like that?" he asks in a dark tone, and the rumble of his voice makes me squeeze around him. Of course I like it. He makes me feel incredible.
"Yes."
He increases his pace, driving into me harder, and I feel the pressure building low in my belly. My hands slide up his back, clawing deeply, and he hisses in pleasure. The slight pain seems to spur him on, and he shifts his angle, hitting that perfect spot that makes me moan.
"That's it," he murmurs. "Don't hold back."
I couldn't if I tried.
Every nerve ending is on fire, every sensation amplified to an almost unbearable degree.
His free hand slides down to grip my hip, holding me in place as he pounds into me, and I feel myself moving closer and closer to the edge.
My toes curl, and my mouth parts on a whimper.
He’s touching every spot I need, and speaking to me like I belong to him—his possession he deeply values.
"Vadim, I'm going to—"
"Come for me."
The command in his voice is all it takes.
My body stiffens and clamps down on him as climax crests and rolls through me.
It's impossible to stay quiet. Every curse word I know flies from my lips, mingled with his name and pleas for him not to stop.
He works me through it, drawing out every last tremor until I'm boneless under him.
But he's not done.
He hooks his arms under my knees, folding me nearly in half as he drives deeper.
The new angle is almost too intense, but I take him, because I need this as much as he does.
It’s hard to breathe, and his hands grip me so hard it hurts, but now he’s touching my back wall every time he bottoms out. And I gasp and whimper.
His eyes meet mine again, and what I see there makes my chest tighten.
This isn't just physical release for him either.
There's something raw and vulnerable in his gaze, something that mirrors the emotions churning inside me.
A tear slides down my temple before I can stop it, and he catches it with his thumb.
"Don't cry,” he purrs, and it seems odd with how he’s fucking me.
"I can't help it."
Another tear follows the first, then another, but they're not tears of sadness. The relief and gratitude are overwhelming—the realization that I'm not alone anymore. That this dangerous, complicated man chose to save me.
Vadim leans down and kisses me, swallowing my tears, tasting the salt on my lips. The tenderness of the gesture is at odds with the relentless rhythm of his hips.
"You're mine now," he says against my mouth so possessively, I can't refuse him.
I whisper, "Yes," and deep down, I mean it. He owns me, and it frightens me sometimes, but I know it's true. I'm falling for him helplessly and he owns me.
His control snaps and he buries his face in the curve of my neck and pounds into me, chasing his own release.
I wrap my arms around his back, my legs locked around his waist, and I let him take what he needs.
His breathing becomes ragged as his movements lose their rhythm, and then he groans my name as he comes.
I feel him pulse inside me and his warmth flood me, and more tears stream down my temples into my hair. When he collapses on top of me, his weight presses me into the mattress, and neither of us moves for a long moment.
Eventually, he shifts his weight to his elbows, looking down at me with dark eyes full of desire. His thumb brushes away the moisture on my cheeks, and then he kisses me again. This kiss is different from the others—it’s slower, like he's trying to tell me something he doesn't have words for.
When he finally pulls out, I feel the loss acutely. He rolls to the side, taking me with him so we're facing each other, and his hand comes up to cup my jaw.
"You okay?" he asks.
I nod, not trusting my voice. I finally feel grounded again, not fractured and dissociated.
"Good."
He pulls me closer until my head is tucked under his chin, and his arms wrap around me like a fortress. I close my eyes and let myself sink into the warmth of his chest.
I never expected to find safety in this marriage. My life might be in pieces, my brother might've destroyed everything I once had, but lying here in Vadim's arms, I feel safe.
Finally.
And it might cost me something, but I think I want to stay here.