by Bella Rose
“What should we tell our Pekhan?” Pyotr called after me. “When he sends us after the girl and we refuse? What do we say then?”
“You tell him that you’re saving your worthless hide. And if he wants you alive, he’ll listen,” I told them. “And if he doesn’t, he’ll send you my way.”
I tried to hide the smile on my face as I pushed my way back out of the bar. That would stir things up with the Orlovs. Boris was too passive for my taste. If these bastards were going to threaten Romanov interests, the only thing to do was draw them out and pick them off one by one. If that meant Anya became bait—well, that’s why Boris had assigned me to protect her. Perhaps the danger would make things that much hotter between us.
Chapter Seven
Anya
I pulled my car into the driveway and shut off the engine. My heart was hammering against my ribs. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. There were probably only twenty feet between my car and my front door. It wasn’t far. I could get out and walk. I’d done it a million times. But for some reason, tonight my hands were sweating on the steering wheel. All I could remember was the feel of the cold knife blade against my chest the night before. There was no Vasily now.
Every shadow seemed inky black and threatening. Was something moving behind the bushes at the corner of my house? A tingle shot down my spine. My grip tightened on the steering wheel. I wanted to leave. But this was my house. This was supposed to be my refuge away from my father’s house and away from the dangerous life that he led. Maybe I would never get away from it.
My belly twisted into knots as I contemplated that. The possibility of a lifetime of nights coming home to an empty dark house and never feeling safe again loomed large. I had never realized what independence could cost.
“No,” I whispered. “I won’t be afraid. I won’t.”
I forced myself to open the driver’s door. My hands were shaking as I put my feet on the pavement. I stood up and clutched my satchel to my chest. The cut on my chest burned. It was odd, but I hadn’t felt any pain the night before when Vasily was touching me. Now it was like a hot poker was being driven through my breast.
I took a shaky breath and exhaled. My scalp was crawling. The front door seemed to have gotten farther away. I tried not to run. That would have been silly. Still, I was walking as fast as I could. I pulled my keys out and stuck them through my fingers so that if I was attacked I could stab my assailant with them.
There was an angry shadow behind every bush and a threat behind every tree. By the time I made it to my front porch, there were tears pouring down my cheeks. I shoved the key in the lock. I had to hurry. There was no time, no time at all. Danger was coming. That’s all I knew. I could feel it creeping up behind me like cold fingers against my neck.
Finally the door gave and I nearly fell inside the house. I slammed the door shut and slid the dead bolt. Resting my forehead against the cool wood, I tried to stop the mad beating of my heart. I took deep breaths and told myself that it was only panic. Completely illogical and totally…
A knock made me leap into the air. I smacked my face on the door. My eyes immediately began to water as my nose gushed blood. Lifting my hand to my face, I squeezed the bridge of my nose to slow the bleeding.
“Anya?”
I dropped my bag on the kitchen table as I ran to the sink. Groping blindly, I came up with a towel. I pressed it to my nose and tried not to feel stupid.
“Anya!” The voice on the other side of the door was sharper.
Vasily.
“I’m fine!” I called back, my voice a little garbled. “Just give me a minute.”
Why did his presence suddenly make me feel so much better? It wasn’t like I knew him. In fact, I should be as suspicious of him as I was of those Orlov bastards. Vasily had shown up so unexpectedly. He’d wriggled his way into my home and into my bed. That wasn’t like me. Not at all. I didn’t do careless stuff like that. I knew better.
“Just go away,” I called after a moment. Yes. That was what I should be doing. Even though my heart started racing once again. What if he listened and he left? I would be alone. There was something about Vasily that was so safe. It didn’t make sense, but I knew it was true.
Something slammed against my front door so hard that the wood shivered against the hinges. “Open this damned door before I break it down.”
He sounded like an animal. Yet instead of fear, I felt only a delicious twinge of anticipation. That’s when I started to feel apprehension about him. I wasn’t afraid. I wanted him too badly for that. How could I trust my judgment about anything when I couldn’t even see the obvious danger standing at my front door?
Vasily
So the little mouse thought she was going to shut me out now? Unacceptable. She belonged to me, and I had access to my property where and when I chose. Besides, she should not be worrying about me. She should have been worried about the men crouched in the darkness across the street. There were unknown to me, but that would change soon enough. First, though, I needed to establish my territory with Anya.
I wasn’t going to tell her twice. If she did not open the door, I was going to break it down. One good kick would do nicely. She would learn not to bar her door against me. I pressed my fist to the wood and felt the low quality of the structure. I opened my palm and pressed hard. The door creaked beneath my touch. I prepared myself. My toes curled inside my combat boots as I prepared to kick it down. She would scream, but she would learn.
Then I heard the lock turn. I took a step back. Good behavior earned a reward. If there wasn’t a need to scare her, I would perhaps give her affection instead. My body tightened in anticipation of that. Touching Anya would be a pleasure for us both. I would make certain of it.
“I told you that I was fine,” she said as she swung the front door open.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the sight of the bloody rag held to her face stopped me cold. “What happened?” I asked tersely. “Did someone hurt you?”
“Just you,” she said drily.
I shoved my way past her, gaining entrance without being invited or asking. We were far beyond those pleasantries. She just didn’t know it yet. “What do you mean, just me?”
She turned and glared at me over the blood-soaked rag. “I smacked my face on the door when you pounded on it.”
Then she was indeed correct. It had been because of me, although it was a testament to how jumpy she was as well. Still, I needed to make amends. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was worried. I thought you might still be apprehensive after what happened last night. I didn’t want you to be alone.”
Her expression softened. In that moment I knew I had her. Then she readjusted the rag and her grip on the bridge of her nose. She was already walking back toward the kitchen sink. “I appreciate the apology. And I really appreciate you coming to check on me, but I’m fine.”
“That doesn’t have to be the only reason I’m here, you know.” I kept my voice low—suggestive. I saw her pupils dilate as her nipples peaked beneath her sweater.
I actually saw her flinch at my suggestion. Her body was betraying her. The way her shoulders went up and down told me that her breathing was ragged. She wanted me here. That much was obvious, but she was also fighting her own desires. The contrast was intriguing. There were so many things about this woman that were unexpected, and I liked the unexpected.
I walked up behind her. She didn’t turn around. She was rinsing out the rag in the sink. The red water circled the drain and then went down. The methodical way she took care of the task told me she was near the edge of her resistance. She was taking refuge in mundane tasks, but I knew how to shake her up.
Leaning forward, I let my breath whisper gently across the back of her neck. She trembled, shivering delicately at the contact. I said nothing. Instead I pressed my lips to the skin where her shoulder met her neck. The warmth of her was intoxicating to me. I inhaled her scent and reveled in the delicate femininity of it. This wo
man was mine. My own. No man would ever touch her again. The primal voice inside my head would not allow it. And when she gave a little sigh and tilted her head to one side so that I could have better access, I knew she felt what I did.
The animalistic urge to mate was overwhelming. I had always been a bit of a beast in bed, but with Anya I was ravenous. I kissed her neck. Grabbing on to her upper arms, I held her tight enough to keep her from moving at all. She dropped the rag into the sink and let her head drop forward. The position of surrender was no accident. Her instincts had led her to that point, and I savored the sight of her waiting for my command.
“Go to your room,” I growled. “Strip naked and kneel on the floor beside your bed. Wait for me.”
I saw her arguing within herself, fighting perhaps. But it took no time at all for her primal self to overrule her logical mind. Without speaking one word, Anya turned and walked toward the bedroom.
Chapter Eight
Anya
There was something wrong with me. There had to be. There was no other explanation for my behavior. I was not a slave. And I sure as hell didn’t want to be one. Yet I was acting the part, and I could not seem to help myself. This man did things to me. I could almost believe he was as supernatural as I’d fancied him to be last night.
I felt myself pulling at my clothes without fully understanding why I was doing it. Why should I strip naked for this near stranger—for this man? Yet I wanted him to do those things to my body. I wanted the delicious sensation of his touch as his fingers slid through the hot flesh between my legs. My pussy was already wet just imagining it. When he finally came in here and touched me, I was going to go off like a rocket.
My legs got twisted in my sensible school skirt. I must have changed my mind for just a moment. My logical mind kicked in, and I tried to pull my skirt back up my legs even as I was already trying to step out of it. What was wrong with me? It was wrong. All of this was wrong! I should not be taking orders that ended with me having sex with a near stranger.
He’s not a stranger.
Vasily didn’t feel like a stranger. That was true. My body knew him. Maybe even my soul. And as I sank to my knees—naked—on the floor beside my bed, I wondered if there was anything that would have stopped this moment from happening. I don’t think there was. It was inevitable somehow, which made my coming personal destruction all the more certain.
“There you are.” The silken gravel of his voice whispered over my consciousness. “Such a beautiful picture waiting there for my pleasure.”
I wanted to speak, but I wanted to hear what else he was going to say even more. So I kept silent when I should have been protesting this treatment! I was not his property. I was my own.
Then he touched my head. The instant feeling of satisfaction was shocking. This was what I wanted—this contact. The way his fingers sifted through my loose hair and the feel of him gently rubbing the tension from my neck. This was what I needed so desperately in my life. How had he known?
“So beautiful,” he whispered.
I felt how near he was to me and savored the heat of his skin next to mine. Then he moved to stand in front of me, and I finally saw the glorious length of his cock so very close to my face. It was thick and long and so beautiful to look at. I had never seen anything like it. His testicles were perfectly shaped, hanging between his legs as though they were showing off. I felt my mouth water and wondered why.
“I want you to take me in your mouth.”
There was no naked command in Vasily’s voice. Yet I wanted so badly to obey that I began to salivate even more. I wasn’t the type of woman to give a blowjob, yet I wanted to do just that right here and now. My brain told me that it was going to be the most amazing experience. I was getting wet just thinking about the feel of his soft head against my lips.
My mind was screaming no, and yet my mouth opened of its own volition. He gently pushed his cock past my lips and into my throat. I began to suck and lick, running my tongue in quick circles around and around his shaft. I found the puckered flange and began to flick the sensitive skin. Each time I felt him physically react, I felt a corresponding jolt of pleasure within me. It was as if my personal enjoyment was innately connected to his. I didn’t understand it, but I knew that’s what I felt.
He put his hands on either side of my head and began pumping in and out of my mouth. He went faster and harder. Each stroke sent his cock deeper into my throat. I was holding my breath now, only getting air when he pulled out of my mouth. The rhythm was perfect. My nipples were swelling and plumping. Blood rushed to my groin, and I felt my thighs slide together as my own juices coated the insides of my legs. I was so turned-on by what was happening that soon I would be begging him to finish me too.
His cock slid across my tongue. I tasted his musk and the salty essence of his precum. He was close. I sensed it in the way he moved. Gone was the fluidity. Those smooth thrusts had been replaced by the jerky movements of someone so very close to the ultimate goal.
Kneeling there on my bedroom floor, I felt a dark sort of gratification in what was happening. The decadence of such a thing was foreign to me. I was at his mercy. In this moment I was all his. And even though I should have run screaming in the opposite direction, I could not make myself stir from my place.
He came hard, convulsing and cursing as he poured semen into my mouth. I swallowed it down, lapping and licking to get every drop. The bitter flavor melted on my tongue. I wanted more. I wanted it all. I was hot and needy and so very desperate that he could have asked me to do anything and I would not have argued. I was beyond that now. I belonged to him.
“I am so pleased,” he murmured in a rough voice. “Now get up on the bed so that I can take care of my girl.”
Vasily
I watched Anya climb onto the bed. She rose gracefully from the floor and moved to the mattress without showing a hint of reticence. The satisfaction that gave me was immense. When I was through with her, she would be changed. She would be better—darker perhaps—but better.
I reached over for the scarf that I had brought with me into the bedroom. The sheer black fabric was whisper soft. I stepped closer to the bed, letting the scarf gently run like silken water over Anya’s skin as I walked around the foot of her bed. She had settled on her back with her beautiful breasts jutting into the air. I could not help but smile at the sight of her waiting for me.
She gave a gasp and arched her back. Her eyes were closed. I hadn’t ordered her to keep them one way or the other, but it pleased me that she would feel settled enough to close them in my presence. It meant that deep down—despite her logical misgivings—she was mine already.
I caught her hands in mine and quickly slipped the noose end of the scarf around her wrists. Her eyes flew open in obvious surprise.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
I secured the scarf to the bedpost. “I’m tying you up.”
“I don’t do that sort of thing.” There was a note of near panic in her tone. “Please undo it.”
“No.” I gently smoothed my hand down her torso.
She stilled at the touch. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She looked at me instead with her huge dark eyes. The fear in them was more aphrodisiac than deterrent. I could not wait to see that fear melt into desire.
I cupped her breast with one hand while I slid her toward the center of the bed. The movement pulled her arms above her head and stretched her beautiful body out for my viewing enjoyment. She squirmed a little but stilled when I thumbed her nipple into a hard point.
I was still naked, but that was insignificant at this point. It only made us equal in her unlearned mind. I climbed up onto the bed and settled next to her. I lay on my side so that I could rest my weight on one elbow. Soon she would realize that I did not need my clothes on to master her. I could take her and mold her exactly as I wanted without the faux safety of clothing.
“What are you doing?” She whispered the words, still looking frightened
.
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her belly. “I’m pleasing you.”
“Pleasing me?”
I gently brushed my fingers over her mound. She froze and I laughed. “Won’t it please you if I touch you and make you come?”
“Yes.” She nodded her head. “Please?”
I nuzzled her neck. “How can I resist when you say please?”
“Please, please?”
Her sass pleased me still. I did not want to break her spirit. I just wanted her tamed to my touch. And as I traced random patterns across her skin, letting my fingers get ever closer to their goal, I knew that I was well on my way to success.
Finally, when I could wait no longer, I slipped two fingers between the swollen lips of her pussy. She was soft and wet and very warm. I circled her clit before dipping low to find the source of her cream. I gently penetrated her with one finger, withdrawing before her inner muscles could fully clamp down on me. She gave a tiny whimper and moved her hips as though she were begging for more.
“Lift your knees and spread your legs,” I ordered.
She obeyed immediately and I rewarded her by cupping her mound. “You will not come until I say. Do you understand?”
She made another noise. This time she sounded disgruntled. I didn’t care. She would learn self-control, and I would make her like it. I framed her pussy with the fingers of one hand. I could feel the blood surging toward her groin. She would be feeling heavy and very turned-on. It was the perfect time to push her limits and see how far we could go.
I adjusted my position, moving between her spread legs so that I could see every nuance of her body’s reaction to my attention. I gently penetrated her with two fingers and hooked them up around toward her pelvic bone. The thick pad of muscle was beneath my second and third fingers, and I knew I could make her scream anytime I wanted just by rubbing it.