Chapter 5 #2
“Your brother gave that to you?” he asks in a low growl. Is he… angry? Upset that his “prize” is marred? Affronted that he didn’t give it to me himself?
“Mmm. What a man, isn’t he?” I can’t keep the venom from my voice.
He’s the devil incarnate, and I hate him.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” he snaps.
“Not if I get to him first,” I retort, and I fucking mean it. I won’t let anyone else exact the revenge that belongs to me.
I was the one he hurt. I was the one pressed under his thumb. I was the one thwarted by his chauvinistic tactics, and I will be the one who claims his throne.
Lev gives me a curious look but doesn’t respond.
“No bugs,” he says, with a satisfied nod. “Now let’s get to the good part.”
My heart thumps madly. I’m instantly wet. I must be insane.
This might not work out so well for me. Or him, really.
I swallow hard and toss my head as if scoffing at his threat. If he sees right through me, he doesn’t let on.
“Come here.”
I’m restrained and stuck in place as if someone’s flicked a switch and frozen me. With a scowl, he spins me around and claps his hand across my ass. Under normal circumstances, that’d turn me on, but it only serves to unfreeze me. I yelp and hop to, walking over to where he instructs me to go.
The cable system looms in front of me. It might as well be the stocks or a medieval torture device under these circumstances. The cold, metallic glint of the pulleys and weights reflects the harsh light of the basement, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
What time is it? It’s got to be the middle of the night, maybe even into the wee hours of the morning. I’m tired and hungry and in pain, but I will not break.
I will not.
When I cast a glance at him, his dark eyes are unreadable. The weight of our situation presses down on me. At any moment, he could end my life, but then where does that leave him? The irony is that the only thing keeping me safe is my identity… which is also my greatest condemnation.
The tension in the air is palpable. I shiver, not from the cold, but from not knowing what’s coming next. He doesn’t seem tired like I am at all but energized and almost excited. I mean, he’s got a naked woman at his mercy. I don’t really blame him.
“Enjoy the view?” I ask, somehow managing to keep my tone light and not betraying the fear that thrums through my veins with a life of its own.
“You seem to be enjoying the attention,” he says smoothly.
I roll my eyes, trying to mask my growing terror. “Well, it’s not every day I get such an audience for my workout routine.”
His low, dark chuckle makes my frayed nerves quiver. “This is no workout routine, Isabella.”
I give a mock gasp. “No,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Are you going to make me confess my addiction to sweets and my appalling lack of cardio?”
A hint of a smirk tugs at his lips. “It’s more your extracurricular activities that interest me.”
I toss my hair, but he’s got me in a tight grip. With deft moves, he lifts both of my wrists over my head. I crane my neck to see what he’s doing but can’t really get a good view. I don’t need to, though, as the next moment, my wrists are pulled into restraints.
Uh-oh.
Here we goooooo.
“I’m just trying to learn everything I can about you, of course. You intrigue me.”
He snorts. “Right.”
“Go ahead, Lev. Give me your best,” I challenge, dropping the teasing lilt of my voice. “Whips and intimidation tactics won’t break me. And honestly, I’m not scared of you.”
“Good,” he responds. “Fear makes people weak. I prefer my women strong.”
His women. Why does a sudden need to know exactly who his women have been grip me? He’s nothing to me. I don’t care.
I’m not jealous. God.
He pulls a lever, and I stifle a gasp when my wrists are lifted above my head so high I’m on my tiptoes. He has complete access to my naked body.
And something tells me he’s going to use that to his full advantage. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for something. Anything. But when long minutes pass, I finally venture to open an eye.
He’s standing in front of me, his face unreadable as he looks at his handiwork. When he meets my gaze, he doesn’t speak, but something warm and delicious unfurls in my belly.
It could work, my instincts purr. We could conquer everything together. If only I could get him to come to me, to bow just the tiniest bit, I could have this man eating out of the palm of my hand. I want him. I want us.
I blink, trying to shake the spell he has over me. It doesn’t work.
Slowly, methodically, as if he’s polishing specks of dust off a prized possession, he runs his hand down the length of my body.
He starts at my shoulders, his hands hot to the touch.
Down my back he goes, to the small of my back, until he gets to my ass.
I watch the outline of his arousal with appreciation, his thick cock taut in his pants. I lick my lips.
Next, he runs his hands down the length of my thighs, all the way down my calves, down to my feet.
“What’s your training regimen?” he asks me, taking me by surprise. “Your body’s an absolute pillar of perfection.”
His praise warms me. I didn’t expect it.
“I eat clean. Run for cardio. Swim at every opportunity. Strength train five days a week. But really, mi querido jefe, it isn’t fair. Here I am, all naked and on display, and I can only guess at what’s beneath your clothes.”
A corner of his lips quirks up, but he doesn’t bite.
He comes in front of me and steps so close, the warmth of his breath brushes my skin. He weighs my breasts in his palms and brushes his thumbs across my nipples. I do my best but can’t completely stifle a hum of approval. My God, it feels good to be touched like this.
Thankfully, I’m good with the knowledge that I’m crazy. Most women would likely berate themselves for craving the touch of their captor. Me? I’ve never been more turned on in my life.