2. Kira #3
"It's okay, I—"
"I insist. Besides, I want that pussy clean when I have dessert later," he said, winking.
With the promise of more pleasure like I had just enjoyed, I scooped up my panties and dress and avoided eye contact with him as I shuffled toward the stairs.
If my father knew what I was doing, he'd kill me.
Niko was so incredible, though, so perfect, and besides, the liquor I'd consumed made me wish I could stay here and never stop coming from his touch.
I found the room he'd directed me to and dropped my dress on the bed, going for the adjoining bathroom to shower.
The whole time, I found myself swaying a little and acknowledging that my lack of foresight concerning the whiskey had left me too tipsy.
Part of me felt like I was seriously falling for this man I barely knew, but part of me knew that was probably the whiskey too.
Until I got out of the shower and walked into the bedroom drying off my body and saw him standing there fully clothed, in shoes, with his tie tied straight.
"I thought you were cooking?" I said, holding the towel around me tightly.
"Oh, I thought about it but then changed my mind." Niko sipped his own glass of whiskey now in his hand and nodded at the bottle on the nightstand. "Feel free to indulge."
"I should really eat if I'm going to drink more." Something about the way he looked at me now made me uncomfortable.
It wasn't the hungry sensual expression he'd had only a few minutes ago.
"You know, I think you're wrong. You'll probably want to drink a lot more before this night is over."
I smiled at first, but his expression was dark. It sort of scared me. "Niko, please. We can just order in if you're not hungry. But I can't stay the night. My father will—"
"Oh, yes. Your father…" He set his glass down on the nightstand and smoothed a hand over his tie. "Your father would shit his pants if he saw you in my bed, wouldn’t he?"
My body tensed as he spat the words out, and I cautioned a glance at the door. He was scaring me.
The tone of voice, the way he slid his hands into his slacks casually while scowling—I didn't like it.
Yes, my father would be upset, but not because of Niko. Simply because of his age, but that didn't seem to be a problem a minute ago.
"Niko, what are you doing? Why are you looking at me like that?" I had an impulse to grab my dress and run, but he stood between me and the door.
Besides, I’d just had sex with him.
He was the kind, sweet man I spent the past two weeks texting. I didn't have any reason I could think of to be scared of him.
"Have a drink, Kira. Relax." His eyes narrowed on me, but I didn't feel comfortable drinking more.
"I don't want a drink, Niko. I want dinner. And then I think I want to go home." I reached for the dress, but now I felt so uncomfortable, I didn’t want to be naked in front of him. I just clung to it and watched his scowl grow angrier.
"Take a drink," he growled, and it made my whole body go rigid.
"Niko, you're scaring me. I just want to get dressed and go home.
" I turned and tugged the dress on over my head, but he got a glimpse of my bare backside as I shimmied it down, and when I turned back around, he was by the door.
"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling flushed, reaching for my panties.
"I don't really care for it when my playthings rebel… You're mine now, Kira. Didn't you hear me say that?" His eyes swept down over my body to the panties dangling from my hand.
"What? No, I don't belong to anyone." My heart raced and my hands shook a little. Adrenaline surged through me, making the alcohol buzz less intense but scarier. "I want to go home."
"This is your home now. I own you for the time being. Make yourself comfortable. You're not going anywhere until your father learns his lesson." Then he backed out the door and shut it.
I raced around the bed and grabbed the doorknob, twisting and tugging, but it was locked.
"Niko! No! You let me out of here!" Smacking the door hurt my hand, so I balled up my fist and pounded, but soon, that hurt too. "Niko! This isn't funny! Let me out!"
My phone wasn't here, nor was my purse—both left downstairs on the table where I was sitting. I couldn't call for help and his footsteps were fading away from the door.
But I stood there banging and screaming for him to let me out for a long time as tears erupted and panic took over.
I had trusted him, and this whole time it was some sort of trap.
I had no clue who this man was or why he thought he could do this to me, but my father would never stand for it.
When I thought about how I'd been so duped, I got angry.
So angry that I threw the side table down, shattering the lamp and making the things on top and inside the drawers scatter on the floor, and a paper fluttered across the room and landed at my feet.
When I stooped to pick it up, the name on the letterhead made my blood run cold. It read Nikolai Dragonov, and I knew exactly where my foolish heart had gone wrong.
I just slept with my father's mortal enemy.
And now I was his prisoner.