by Zoe Blake
Gregor returned to his seat. He took a swallow of vodka, then responded. “Fifteen million.”
My fork made a terrible clatter against the gold-rimmed porcelain plate when I dropped it.
“Fifteen million?” I repeated, incredulous. Fifteen million.
Gregor leaned back in his chair and nodded.
“And… and how much has he paid back so far?”
My stomach twisted. Although I wanted to deny it, I was afraid I already knew the answer.
Gregor inhaled, clearly reluctant to speak about this. “Samara….”
“How much?”
“None of it.”
“None of it?”
He shook his head.
I swallowed, trying to force all the poisonous revelations down my throat. “You keep saying I’m in danger. Is my father why?”
He slowly nodded, his hard gaze watching me, missing nothing.
“Are you going to tell me what kind of danger?”
“No.”
“Why not? I have a right to know!”
“You have a right to know that I am handling it and nothing more.”
“Maybe there isn’t any real danger? Maybe you’re lying and the danger is just you?”
His lips lifted at the corner. “I never said I wasn’t also a danger to you.”
The room spun.
I tried to focus on the plate before me.
Chromium Oxide - the color of the asparagus.
Nickel Yellow - the color of the béarnaise sauce.
Quinacridone Magenta - the color of the wine.
Gregor shook his head as he watched me intently with those mercurial eyes of his.
I reached for my wineglass and drained it.
Gregor picked up the bottle and poured me a second glass, but only halfway.
Dear God.
I had assumed my father had done the honorable thing and returned the money after I fled. No wonder this man pursued me with such a vengeance over the last three years. It was retribution, pure and simple. My father cheated him, and he was making me pay for it one way or another.
Even with Yelena’s racetrack scam, I could never hope to pay him back and buy my freedom from him.
Clawing at the diamond necklace at my throat, I tried to force air into my lungs as I stumbled out of my chair.
Gregor rose and raised his arm toward me. “Samara….”
I shook my head violently as I backed away from him. “No wonder you hate me! My father fucked you over.”
His brows creased. “I never said I hated you, Samara, and watch your language.”
“Fuck my language! You do hate me! Of course, you do! You must!”
I rounded the long dining room table putting distance between me and Gregor.
He followed.
“This isn’t about your father or our families or about the damn money. I don’t give a shit about the money. This is about us,” he yelled as he quickened his pace.
Panicking, I pulled out one of the chairs and thrust it in his way. “There is no us! There is nothing between us. We are only bound by blood money.”
Gregor reached down and flipped the chair on its side, sending it skidding across the hardwood floor.
I screamed and turned to run.
His hand wrapped around my upper arm. I was propelled backwards till I slammed against the wall. Gregor quickly followed, placing his forearms on either side of my head, caging me in.
“I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. Do you understand me, malyshka?”
I was breathing heavily. My breasts brushed against his chest with each inhalation. I could feel my nipples tighten against the silk fabric of my strapless bra.
Still, I dared to challenge him. Why not? The damned have nothing to lose.
“Say what? The truth?” I viciously spit out. “You’re just the monster who's been chasing me. Nothing more.”
Reaching down, he raised the hem of my dress. His hand became a fiery brand on my thigh.
“No! Stop!”
He ignored my protest. Wedging his knee between my thighs, he forced my legs open. His fingers sought out my core, caressing me through the thin fabric of my panties. He leaned down to nuzzle my neck just below my ear.
I bit my lip to stifle a groan.
He shifted his hips so I could feel the hard press of his cock against my inner thigh. “You’re lying to yourself and to me. Does that feel like nothing to you?”
I rolled my head from side to side. “Lust fueled by hatred and revenge. Every kiss taken by force.”
He raised his arm and slammed his fist against the wall, making me cry out. He then clasped his hands over my jaw to cradle my face. His gaze bore into my own before it traveled to my mouth. It looked as if he were going to say something but instead, he turned away with an animalistic growl.
I stayed plastered against the wall, afraid to move.
Gregor turned back to me, his eyes dark and cold as steel. “So be it, Samara. I’ll show you just what a monster I can be.”
A terrified scream tore through my body as he tossed me over his shoulder and carried me up the dark staircase to his bedroom.
Chapter 25
Gregor
I was done playing the gentleman.
I should have known better than to go against my nature. I was after all my father’s son.
Carrying her writhing form over my shoulder, I violently kicked the bedroom door open.
“Let me go!” Samara screamed.
Storming over to the bed, I flipped her onto it. Her body bounced twice before she scrambled onto her knees.
She pushed the tangled curls off her face, her cheeks flushed with indignation and fear as she raged, “How dare you?”
I chuckled as I slipped out of my dinner jacket. “Baby, I’m about to dare a whole fucking lot more.”
Wrenching one of her high heels off her foot, she threw the shoe at me. I easily ducked, as I twisted the platinum and black diamond cuff link off my left cuff and tossed it onto the bureau top.
“You can go to hell!” She threw the other shoe at me but it fell short, tumbling off the side of the bed.
Twisting off the second cuff, I kicked off my shoes. “Only if I can take you with me.”
Shifting backwards, she climbed off my massive bed and stilled her emerald gaze, surveying the distance between the bed and door.
Loosening the knot to my tie, I pulled it from my collar. “You’ll never make it,” I growled.
I watched as her body tensed seconds before springing into motion. She launched herself toward the connecting door. Lunging, I caught her around her slim middle. Her nails scratched at my forearm through the thin linen of my shirt.
“Stop!” she shrieked.
Placing her back on her feet, I twisted my fingers into her hair and ruthlessly pulled, snapping her head back.
“Never,” I savagely vowed before claiming her unwilling mouth.
My head twisted to the side the moment her sharp teeth sunk into my bottom lip. I ran the tip of my tongue over the wound; the tang of blood only spurred me on.
Placing my large hand under her jaw, I squeezed till she let out a small whimper. “Bite me again, and I will whip you with my belt till you bleed.”
“Please, Gregor. Just let me go,” she begged.
In answer, I dragged her by her hair over to the bed, only releasing my grasp when I had her caged in between the bed and the wall.
“Snimay odezhdu,” I ordered.
Her eyes, already wide with fear, teared up as I ordered her to take off her clothes. Her body trembled but didn’t move to obey.
“A teper', prezhde chem ya sdernu s tebya odezhdu.” My voice was more vicious bark than anything else.
At my threat to tear them off her body, she finally obeyed.
Her arms reached back, but I could see she was shaking too badly to work the zipper. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I spun her around and lowered the zipper. Remembering how this evening
started, had I really thought it would end any other way?
Not giving her a chance to, I pulled the garment down till it pooled at her feet. Reaching for the corset style strapless bra, I snapped the small metal hooks and tore it off her body, then caressing my knuckles up the center of her back.
Her shoulders rose as her back arched. Samara swung around, her arms covering her breasts, andher eyes narrowed. “You promised you wouldn’t take my virginity by force.”
“Trust me, malyshka, I won’t have to use force.”
Her arm lashed out to strike me. Wrapping my fingers around her tiny wrist before she could make contact, I pulled till her body slammed against my own. Leaning down, I inhaled the citrus and jasmine perfume scent of her warm skin just below her ear. “Fight me all you want, Samara. This is happening.”
Dragging her back onto the bed, I straddled her squirming form as I raised her arms high over her head and knotted my silk tie around her wrists, then secured them to the newel post in the center of the headboard.
Climbing off the bed, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt as I surveyed her beautiful body, now on display. The swell of her hips, the gentle curve of her breasts, the creamy ivory of her skin, my diamonds glinting around her throat… everything was perfection.
“I hate you,” she seethed, even as her gaze stayed riveted on the opening of my shirt and the tattoos it exposed.
“No. You don’t. And we both know it.” I slipped the shirt off my shoulders and tossed it over a nearby chair.
Keeping my gaze steady on hers, I reached down to unbuckle my belt. As I pulled the long black leather strap through the belt loops, her thighs clenched together. Folding the belt in half, I yanked till the flat ends slapped together, renting the silence with a harsh snap.
Samara’s hips shot off the bed as she groaned.
There was nothing—absolutely nothing—good I had done in my whole wretched life to deserve such an amazingly sensual woman, but I didn’t give a damn. The fact that no other man but myself had ever touched her sent a shot of primal white-hot need straight to my already throbbing cock.
She was my possession… untouched and pure.
The only innocent thing in my twisted fucked up life.
She was mine and no one—not her father, not the Novikoffs, no one—was taking her from me.
Wrapping the leather belt around my fist, I left the final length dangling. Reaching over her form, I trailed the soft leather over one erect nipple. She inhaled sharply. I caressed her flat belly with the end of the belt. As I neared her sweet pussy, her hips twisted to the side, denying me. Raising my arm, I unraveled more of the belt from around my fist and slapped it against her ass.
Samara cried out.
As a large, dark pink mark appeared on her pale skin, I commanded, “Open your legs.”
She whimpered. “Please, Gregor. Don’t do this.”
“Open. Your. Legs.”
Her knees shifted open, but only slightly.
“Wider. I want to see what I paid for all those years ago.”
“Fuck you,” she seethed through clenched teeth.
“Well chosen turn of phrase, baby girl.”
Flattening my hand against her knee, I forced her legs open wide before whipping the end of my belt against her inner thigh. She screamed and strained against the binds around her wrists. Fighting my restraining hand, she tried to twist her hips and close her legs but to no avail. I slashed the leather against her other thigh.
“Consider that your only warning. Close your legs again without permission, and the punishment will be much harsher.”
Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”
Her words were a knife to my gut, but they wouldn’t change anything. It was past time I claimed her for my own. It was selfish and cruel, but there were reasons beyond my own needs. This was the only way I could keep her safe. Every moment she remained an unmarried virgin, she was in danger.
“It’s not your forgiveness I want.”
I crawled onto the bed between her now open knees. Grinding my hips against her core, I balanced the rest of my weight on my right forearm near her head.
A shaft of moonlight from the window crossed over the bed and highlighted her beautiful emerald eyes. One day, maybe those eyes would look on me with love, but not tonight. For now, I would settle for lust.
Lifting my left arm, I ran the tips of my two middle fingers along the cold diamonds which now encircled her neck, stopping at the base of her throat. I gently caressed her skin and could feel the flutter of her rapid pulse. Leaning down, I ran my lips along her jaw, relishing in her sharp inhale and how her body tensed. She was fighting her response to me.
Flicking my tongue against her earlobe, I whispered, “Give in to me, malyshka.”
Tears wet her eyelashes, turning them a deep sooty black. A single tear escaped and slid down the high crest of her cheekbone. I pressed my lips along the salty trail, knowing this wasn’t the first or last time I would make her cry.
Her lips trembled. “I can’t.”
Cupping the gentle weight of her breast in my palm, I opened my mouth and breathed warm air over her pebbled nipple. “Soznatel'nym vkusom togo, ot chego otkazyvayesh'sya. YA proshchayu grabezh tvoy, vor nezhnyy, Khotya ty ukral vsyu moyu bednost',” I murmured in a low, dark tone, punctuating each phrase with a sweep of my tongue over the cherry nub.
Her hips ground against my own. The press of her pelvic bone against my painfully hard cock almost made me lose my resolve. With a growl, I skimmed my teeth over her nipple before switching to the right one as I continued with the honeyed words I’d hope were soothing her fears. “I vse zhe, lyubov' znayet, eto bol'shaya pechal'. Snosit' lyubov' - zlo, chem izvestnuyu ranu nenavisti. Pokhotlivaya blagodat', v kotoroy vse plokho proyavlyayetsya, Ubey menya zlost'yu; no my ne dolzhny byt' vragami.”
Samara moaned as her head tossed from side to side.
Skimming my hand over her flat belly, I pressed my warm palm against her sex. Since I knew her Russian was not as good as my own, I repeated Shakespeare’s Sonnet Number Forty in English as I teased her entrance with the tip of my finger. “By willful taste of what thyself refusest. I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief, Although thou steal thee all my poverty.”
I never understood poetry until this moment. There was something about having the most extraordinary creature in your arms that made everyday language seem impotent and wholly inadequate. Unique women, like Samara, were the reason why men stared at stars, scratched words on paper, and wondered at the mysteries of the universe.
I pushed my first finger into the base, feeling the tight wet clasp of her body. Her body was ready and willing if her mind was not. Slipping out, I pulled her nipple deep into my mouth at the same moment I thrust two fingers inside her untried cunt.
Samara groaned as she pulled on the binds around her wrists.
She was almost there.
Shifting, I moved over her body till my shoulders were nestled between her thighs. The sweet musk of her body nearly drove me over the edge. Thank God I still had my suit pants on as a feeble barrier. If my naked cock were pressed against her right now, there would be no stopping me. Looking down at the colorful tattoo of Betty Boop low on her hip, I couldn’t resist giving it a quick sweep of my tongue.
Training my gaze up her body, I took in every creamy inch of her ivory skin, which shimmered from a faint sheen of sweat.
“Look at me, Samara,” I growled.
She tilted her head back, pressing deeper into the pillows, avoiding my gaze.
Sliding my arm over her hip, I captured her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed.
“Ow! Stop! It hurts!” She tried to twist away from the pain, but my shoulders between her legs prevented it.
“Obey me, and I’ll stop.”
Her wide gaze trained on me as her chest rose and fell with her rapid, frightened breath.
“Good girl.”
H
olding her gaze, I opened my mouth and extended my tongue. I could feel her body tense as she held her breath, mesmerized by the lascivious gesture, knowing my intent. Giving her no quarter, I swept the tip over her engorged clit.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
“And yet, love knows, it is a greater grief,” I whispered as I continued to recite the sonnet, letting my warm breath caress her before once more flicking the tight bundle of nerves. “To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury. Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows.” I wrapped my lips over my teeth and gently bit down till she cried out from pleasurable pain. “Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.”
As I swirled my tongue around her clit, I pushed a third finger into her narrow passage. Pumping them in and out as I twisted my wrist, I prepared her for the girth of my cock.
“Come for me, baby.”
Her body bucked and thrashed as much as her binds and my body would allow.
Increasing the pressure of my tongue, I forced my fingers in deep just as I swept her dark puckered hole with the pad of my thumb. Samara screamed her release. I lapped at her sweet cream as I relished in the glorious sound of her surrender. I had won the battle, but not the war. Victory would come after her complete surrender.
“Say it. Say it for me, malyshka,” I commanded as I settled my weight on top of her.
Her eyes squeezed shut, she jerked on her wrists.
Leaning up, I pulled on the end of my silk tie, releasing her wrists.
I hated to admit it, but I held my breath, waiting and watching to see what she would do.
Curled into claws, her fingers drove into my hair, fisting the short wavy length as her legs wrapped around my hips. Air left my body in a rush as I reached between us to lower the zipper of my trousers and lower them past my hips. My heavily engorged cock sprang free. I fisted the length and ran my hand up and down the length a few times to ease the building tension, knowing if let off the leash, I would fuck her like an animal without a hint of mercy.
Leaning my hips up, I rubbed the head of my cock against her now sensitive clit. “Say it,” I growled, my restraint slipping.
She opened her eyes and stared at me. Even in the dim moonlight, I could see the glint of the flecks of gold nestled within her emerald depths. “Take me, Gregor.”