by Raven Dark
“If he’d tried to take you from me, I would have done what I had to, kravitsa.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter at his chest. “You’re completely demented.”
And yet, the idea that he’ll go to such lengths to keep me sends a bolt of white hot excitement through me.
“You might as well kill me, Michael. I’ll never accept this.”
He yanks on my hair, a sudden hard pull that makes me hiss between my teeth. “Oh, yes you will. By the time I’m done with you tonight, the very idea of giving me any less than your total obedience will terrify you.”
Panic races through my veins. “What are you going to do to me?”
He releases me roughly. “Whatever I do, it will be kinder than what should happen. I should be putting a fucking bullet in your brain.”
Queasiness makes my head swim. Weakness rushes to my legs, nearly sending me to my knees. Instinct tells me the reason he hasn’t pulled a gun on me and done what Mafia law demands of him isn’t because of his promise to my dad not to kill me. So why doesn’t he? And why isn’t he sending me back to Vincent to be executed?
“What are you going to do with me?”
“Are you frightened, Aurora?” Towering over me, his voice is low and dangerous.
“Yes. I am.”
The excitement in his eyes is disturbing. “You should be.”
Slowly, carefully, he reaches behind my head and tugs the elastic from my hair. My curls tumble to my shoulders and down my back. He watches them as if hypnotized, smoothing them out around my shoulders with his fingers with a reverence that makes me wonder what the hell I did years ago to cause his fixation with me.
“So fucking beautiful. Like an angel.” Michael pushes the elastic into his pants pocket. Then he steps back and his face becomes a mask. “Take off your clothes, Aurora.”
Humiliation rips into me. I should be used to this kind of thing from him by now, yet I still have to force down the urge to argue. There’s no way out of what’s ahead of me, so I’ll have to take whatever he does.
God help me.
I slip out of the slinky cocktail dress and step out of the pile of designer fabric it leaves on the floor. When I’d dressed for tonight, he hadn’t allowed panties or a bra, which means I’m naked except for the black heals he’d left with the dress.
“Chort proviri, I’ll never get enough of you.” Michael’s eyes devour the mounds of my breasts and the thatch of hair between my legs with a burning hunger that hasn’t waned even though he’s seen them before. That look makes me feel both incredibly exposed, and extremely turned on.
One by one, I unbuckle and slip off my shoes. His gaze drinks in my every move with an intensity that leaves my skin feeling as if it’s on fire. An unwelcome ache strokes my clit.
Once I’m naked, he pulls me against him, pressing into me so that I feel every inch of his muscled frame. “My sexy little traitor.”
The quiet, seething anger that radiates from this giant of a man leaves me feeling painfully fragile and small. He’s all power and steel and danger. I’m shaking, and my heart hammers so hard I was sure he must feel it pounding against his own chest.
“I’m glad you tried to escape, kravitsa.” His voice is low and insidious in my ear.
“What?”
“I’ve been waiting to hear what you sound like when I really make you scream.”
My blood freezes in my veins. He’s not talking about screams of pleasure, is he? I jerk back. “Michael, whatever you’re going to do, get it over with.”
One of his palms slides down between us until his fingers glide over my clit, through my already moist folds. Wetness coats his fingers, and triumph lights in his eyes at the slickness there, knowing it’s for him.
“Gorgeous pussy, and it’s soaking. So wet for me.” His lips hover over mine, just close enough to caress mine with heat, without touching. I pant up at him, stiffening in effort not to respond to him, but the smooth strokes of his fingers send ripples of pleasure through me that refuse to be ignored.
Then, just like that, he stops. His hand drops and he releases me.
“Hold out your wrists.”
The desire he’s awakened in me cools. Praying he doesn’t see my hands shaking, I obey. Michael pulls that crimson tie from around his neck and winds it around my wrists like rope.
“Come with me.” He strides across the room for the doors.
I hesitate, frozen in place.
“Lack of obedience will only make things worse for you.”
“You want me to walk with you through those halls like this?”
“You’re trying my patience. Walk, or be dragged.”
With not a stitch on except the tie that binds my wrists as if I’m some criminal bound for the gallows, I follow him into the hall.
For the next few minutes, Michael walks me down a few halls, then up the stairs to the second floor of the lodge. We pass the occasional maid or servant, all of whom carefully avoid looking at us. Men and women who have clearly perfected the art of unseeing, which comes with being in the Mafia—Italian, or Russian. Thankfully, we don’t come across Adrian or Katerina. I couldn’t have stood it if I’d had to deal with the smug smile that woman would have given me if she saw me like this. Still, every step we take, I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
My thoughts tumble over one another. Where was he taking me? What will he do to me once we’re there? I want to ask, but I know he’ll only give me one of his enigmatic non-answers.
Michael says nothing, walking a pace ahead of me. My stomach tightens. This unending trek through the halls feels like a traitor’s perp walk.
Halfway down the hall, Michael stops at a wide set of double doors. Upon opening them, his fingers snake around my elbow and he jerks me inside before shutting the doors and locking them.
“Not going to lock me in my room this time—?” I cut off, staring at the room, slack-jawed. “Wow.”
Low lights in the ceiling had turned on automatically when we entered, casting a glow equal to soft candlelight on a room as sumptuous as any million-dollar penthouse suite. A large four-poster bed decked out in gold and black satin linins dominates the room. Thick velvet drapes are pulled back on a wide window that looks out onto to the property behind the lodge. The mountains offer a stunning view, rugged walls of stone capped in snow that gleams in the night.
Those mountains once again drive home the unsettling isolation of this place. A trapped feeling settles in, washing away any fascination with the room’s opulence.
Michael stalks across the room to the foot of the bed where a cushion in black silk lies, the purpose of which is painfully obvious.
“Come here, Aurora.” His rich, throaty voice is like a lure.
Crossing the room to him, the cold white marble floor shocks my feet. Goosebumps dance along my arms. Is this room colder than the rest of the lodge? I shiver.
“Cold?” he asks.
“A little.”
But he makes no move to turn the heat up, even though the thermostat is right on one wall by the bed. When I come to within reach of him, he pulls me over so that I’m standing in front of that cushion on the floor.
Through the haze of my growing dread, I notice that the wall behind him on the other side of the room is made of solid steel. There’s a panel to the side of it, with a keypad and an LED light that glows red. A panic room, perhaps?
“Look at me, Aurora.” Michael’s voice takes all my attention. His eyes once more drink me in, his fingers brushing my hair off my shoulders. The room’s dim lighting cause’s shadows to flicker across his face, making his hard features look brutal. His palm glides over my chest, heating the valley between my breasts and making my skin hum. My nipples pebble in response. He doesn’t touch them, but his eyes fixate on the aching points. The intensity of the hunger in his eyes is incredible.
He drops his hand. “Turn around. Get on your knees.”
Christ, this man knows how to push a
ll my buttons. I put my back to him and drop to my knees onto the cushion. I know he can hear my rasping breaths.
“You’re sexy when you’re nervous,” he whispers in my ear.
He’s right; if my hands weren’t bound, I’d be twisting them.
“Wait for me here.” Michael’s footsteps echo across the floor. The door opens again, then shuts.
I let out a long, trembling breath. If anything, his absence only ratchets up the panic welling in my chest. I try not to think too hard about what he might bring back with him.
Once more, the doors to the room open. I look over my shoulder toward them. Michael steps in, then shuts and locks the doors. I don’t know whether to feel any better that he isn’t carrying anything ominous with him.
“Eyes front, Aurora.”
Throat dry as a desert, I focus on the bed in front of me. His footsteps cross the room. Dread makes the skin between my shoulder blades prickle.
Silent for a beat, he stops behind me. His fingertips trace the line of my spine, making me shiver. “Such a gorgeous back,” he rasps. “Such smooth skin.” His fingers trail upward, sending another quake through my frame, and then he sweeps my hair over my shoulder. “The perfect canvas.”
Confusion snakes through me. “What?” I turn my head to the side. “Michael—”
He slides his hand across my cheek until his palm cups my jaw. “Shut your mouth,” he growls, cutting me off.
Helplessness coils in my chest. I say nothing.
His grip is like steel, huge and overwhelming. The pad of his thumb swipes over my lips, a single possessive caress.
“Fucking traitor mouth.” His thumb paints my lips, tracing the line of them before the tip of it slips inside.
He pushes inside the way he did the other night with the head of his cock.
The dominance and command in that single gesture simultaneously makes my pussy clench and makes my cheeks heat with humiliation. The gesture, as much as his words, says it all. My mouth is his to use as he chooses. In betraying him, I’ve reduced myself to a toy without voice, without the right or choice to challenge him in any way.
“So, here’s how the next few days will go.” He releases my jaw and a rustle of cloth reaches my ears. I look over my shoulder at him.
Shit. My silk scarf dangles from his hand. He must have left the room and taken it from my bed, and had it in his pocket when he came back in here. I stare at the thing as if it’s a poisonous snake.
“Eyes front, Aurora. Don’t make me tell you again.”
I mash my lips together and face the bed again.
“As a consequence of your actions today, you have lost the right to enjoy this lodge, or roam freely in it.” Michael brushes my hair over my shoulder out of his way, then slips the scarf around my neck. He ties the strip of cloth so that the tails of it fall down my back, the knot at my nape. The cloth suddenly feels a little too tight, and I fist my hands until my nails bite into my palms.
“When I want you in this room, you will to come here and wait to be used. Stand up.”
Used. Oh, God. My blood rushes to my head, half fear, half arousal. My knees wobble when I push to my feet.
“The rest of the time, you will be locked in your room. Until I say differently, food and anything else you require will be brought to you.”
When I slump my shoulders without thinking about it, I feel him smile against my ear. His fingers slide up and down my arms, chasing the goose bumps away. Then he pulls my hair out from under the scarf, smoothing it back. “Trust me, when I’m through with you every night, you’ll want to be away from me. Before long, you’ll be glad of that room.”
“So this is why you won’t send me to my father. Because you’re too much of a pervert.”
A low chuckle vibrates from him, rich with wickedness. He glides his hands around my sides, palms cupping my breasts. The heat of them almost makes me feel lightheaded.
“Watch yourself, traitor.” His teeth graze my shoulder. The sting shoots right through me, causing me to gasp. His lips drop kisses along my bare shoulder between his words. “I love your smart mouth… but my tolerance has limits. Whatever I have planned for you… it can always get worse.”
Every brush of his lips makes my blood hotter. I try to remain stiff and unresponsive, but somehow my head drops against his shoulder and I slump back into him, knees turning to jelly.
“So responsive.” Sucking my neck hard, he squeezes my breasts, fingers digging into the skin. He tweaks and twists my nipples.
“Owe, not so hard.” The words tumble out without my considering them. My own weakness makes me cringe, but I can’t help squirming. One of his arms pins me to him and I twist in his grip, but with my hands tied, there’s not much I can do to fend him off.
“Stop pulling away. You’ll make me harder.”
“Michael…” But I’ve slumped against him again, letting my head drop back, my arms fall. Giving him the access he demands.
The low growl he lets out electrifies my blood. His kisses scald my shoulders and neck while he rubs his cock against me until it jabs at my ass. “You see what you do to me?”
When I don’t reply, one of his hands seizes the front of my throat. The other one grips the ends of the scarf, pulling like a leash just enough that my breath catches. My heart speeds up with the first real bite of fear.
“Breathe, kravitsa. I’m not going to kill you.”
Somehow that doesn’t reassure me, particularly not when the threat in his grip and the power it implies makes me wetter. I wait with bated breath, but he releases the scarf, shoves the same hand between my legs, and grips my pussy. Two of his fingers stroke through my folds.
“You’re so wet, Aurora. You like what I do to you, don’t you?”
I press my lips together. He won’t get me to admit to the strange, twisted part of me that his needs seem to have tapped into.
“Spread your legs.” There’s an inflection in his voice that tells me he’s smiling. He already knows full well how he’s affecting me. “Let me feel your pussy before you suffer.”
Intense rebellion claws at me, but, I obey. He groans and slides two fingers into me.
How much easier it would be if his invasion had hurt the way it had when he fucked me the night on his jet, but my pussy clenches around his fingers, bringing nothing but pleasure.
“Still tight. You’re going to feel so good around my cock.”
A foolish desperation to maintain some semblance of control rears up and I lock my hips in place, refusing to give him the pleasure he demands.
“Don’t do that. I told you, your body and your pleasure are mine. I want all of you.” He removes his fingers, only to slide them in from behind, his other hand gripping my shoulder. “Bend over.”
The rough need in his voice heats my blood.
Barely had I bent at the waist when he starts finger-fucking my pussy from behind. Just like he had in that shower, but harder, faster. Too fast for me to acclimate or shut down my responses. Pleasure mounts and intensifies until my hips are rocking into his touch and I’m groaning, cursing his effect on me.
“Fuck, wait. Ah, what are you trying to do to me?” My feet shuffle forward with a will of their own, trying to put distance between us.
“Stay still, traitor.” His arm goes around my waist, pinning me to him. His feet kick mine apart, while he thrusts his fingers in and out.
An orgasm threatens, every stroke rushing me toward the edge. My nipples ache to the point of pain, my breasts swinging heavily with his rhythm. A scream rips from me.
“You’re right, kravitsa,” he rumbles. “I’d rather punish you and fuck you like an animal every night than see you executed.”
The obsession, the wicked smugness that he has me where he wants me and there’s nothing I can do to stop him pushes all the wrong buttons in me.
“You fuck.”
Michael’s palm crashes down on my ass with a crack. Fire spreads across the skin, making me whimper.
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Just as I’m about to explode in release, he withdraws his fingers. I try to straighten, but he walks me forward until my knees touch the foot of the bed, then he pushes my shoulders down, pinning me to the mattress. His hard cock presses between my legs, easily reminding me that, while he’d gotten himself off using my mouth, he hasn’t let me come since that day in the shower.
“See how hard I am for you? God, I want you.”
There’s a world of blame in those words. Somehow he’s made his desire sound threatening. I’m about to get what I deserve. But he still doesn’t fuck me.
Leaving my deprived body hovering on the edge, he rubs himself against me, grinding my hips into him. His cock presses at my core, stimulating and intensifying the ache there.
“The whole time I was gone, all I’ve been able to think about is using your sweet body for hours.”
I clench my jaw against the urge to plead for release.
“You wanna come, kravitsa?”
“Fuck you.”
He growls in delight and grinds in a circle, driving me wild.
Bent over, the blood rushes to my head, while my hips grind back into him, unstoppable. I try to close my legs, but he pushes my feet apart again, He’s so hard that at least an inch of his cock slips into me even with his pants covering it. He gives a few teasing thrusts, feeding me just enough of his cock to make me crazy with lust. The pleasure building acts like a switch being flipped and suddenly I’m almost riding him and panting.
Shit, I hate him. Fuck, this is hot.
He stops and jerks me upright, spinning me to face him. I’m nearly weeping for what I’d almost had and lost. His eyes blaze.
“I want you, Aurora, and you will take my cock tonight, but I won’t let you tempt me into forgetting what you did tonight. You’ll suffer your punishment first.”
Tempt him? Oh, my God. Outrage roars in me.
Michael pulls me across the room to the steel wall I assumed was the door to a panic room. Gripping my still bound wrists, he keys in a code on the pad. There’s a beep. The LED light turns green before the wall—which is a door like I thought—slides open to reveal a sectioned off part of the room.