“Godzilla,” she acknowledged, tensing from head to toe without visibly tipping him off to the imminent attack.
Apparently, he noticed anyway. He growled and shook his head, showering her face with water once more. “Do not attack me, woman. I am not in the mood. I will hurt you.”
She shivered and briefly considered just going with him quietly. Then she remembered who she was. She was Laney Paul, Yakuza assassin. She was no one’s bitch. Slowly turning over, Laney came to her feet in a crouch. Reaching under her jacket, she unsheathed both of her blades and held them down and away from her body.
“You refuse to go with me?” he snarled. “This was not our agreement.”
“There was no agreement,” Laney argued, slowly circling away from him, keeping the edge of the shipping container in her peripheral so she wouldn’t slip off. “You gave me two minutes to disappear and I took your kindly proffered time.”
“You skate the edge of my patience, little girl,” he growled from between clenched teeth, hands fisted at his side. He circled her, stalking closer, readying himself for an attack. “You must know if I get my hands on you after this I won’t be gentle. You had your chance.”
She smirked and slashed one of the blades through the rain. “It won't be an issue after this, Grekov.”
Without replying, he lunged for her. Laney danced away from him, keeping her body low and out of his reach, knowing if he got his hands on her it would be game over. She didn’t have the strength to fight him off and his battle skills were at least equal to hers. It became quickly clear to her that she had the advantage. Boris did not want her anywhere near the edge of the shipping containers and was doing everything within his power to keep their fight in the middle. Which was rapidly frustrating him, because Laney was using her quick, lithe body to dance circles around him, closer and closer to the edge, while taking jabs at him with her sharp daggers. Boris was forced to duck her light thrusts, while trying to drive her back to where he wanted her.
“Laney, watch the fucking edge,” he bellowed at her, “it’s fucking slippery!”
She grinned and threw her dagger, while he was distracted. He jerked back, bringing his forearm up to protect his throat and face, catching it in the meaty part of his arm. He stared at her with something approaching murderous intent and yanked the knife out of his arm. His leather coat would have stopped it from penetrating very far and her throw had been light, but blood still dripped off the end of his fingers. He’d taken a solid hit. Without taking his eyes off of her, he drew his arm back and hurled it as hard as he could. Laney stared in shock as it hurtled end over end across the metal container and into the ocean far below.
Her Sensei had given her the blades when she’d achieved her first black belt at the age of ten. She turned angry eyes on Boris, determined to give him a piece of her mind, but he used her momentary distraction to close the distance between them. A scream of surprise was choked off when he grabbed her by the throat and lifted her right off her feet. Blood smeared on her neck where he held her. Laney clutched at his wrist with her free hand and tried to stab him with her other dagger.
He shook her and growled furiously, “Drop the blade.”
His eyes glowed in a way she’d never seen. This was the Russian enforcer that other people saw right before they died. He held her up in one hand like she weighed nothing. She was a rag doll against his incredible strength. He would slowly choke the breath out of her unless she did as he demanded. Tears of fury and pain jumped unbidden to her eyes. What choice did she have?
Finally, she submitted, opening her fingers and letting the blade clatter against the rain-slicked metal. Boris slowly lowered her until her feet touched the ground. As if knowing her legs could not hold her, he continued to lower her, allowing her knees to buckle until she was crouched at his feet with his fist still wrapped around her neck. Finally, his slave.
Her eyes landed on the blade. Determined to bury it in his foot, she lunged for it, heedless of the fingers that could crush her throat, finishing their struggle once and for all. Her fingers touched the hilt at the same time Boris’ boot landed on the blade making it impossible to lift.
She looked up into his dark eyes. There was no amusement shining there. He was done playing games with her. She shivered under the onslaught of the beast she had brought forth. She opened her mouth to speak, to beg him for mercy, for more time, for anything. She wasn’t ready to submit to him or to any man. Nothing in her life had taught her the value in the type of loving Boris wanted from her. She simply couldn’t do it.
He didn’t let her speak. He pulled her up by the neck and crushed her lips beneath his own in a kiss that told her how their time together would be. Violent. Dominant. Passionate. Painful.
Laney tried to pull away from him, but the fingers around her neck tightened until she was nearly choking again. She brought her hands up, but he gathered them in one of his massive hands and held them behind her back, forcing her to submit to his kiss. She tasted blood against her tongue and whimpered, unsure if her lip was cut or his. Boris pulled back, hearing her distress and stared down at her, his eyes hard. He brought a thumb up and touched her lip, smearing the blood.
Laney watched, her heart beating out of control as he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked her blood off of it. He looked down, between their bodies at her dagger, then drew back his foot and kicked it, sending it spinning toward the edge of the container.
“No!” Laney screamed, watching in horror as her second precious blade slid toward the edge.
She twisted in his arms, trying to send an elbow into his stomach or crotch. When that didn’t work she lunged toward him and bit the skin of his neck hard enough to draw blood.
“Blyad, you little bitch!” he snarled, dropping her and reaching automatically for his neck.
Laney immediately raced full tilt for the edge of the container, knowing she would be too late, but not caring. She would climb down the side of the fucking container without the ladder and see if it landed on the deck. Without slowing, she reached for the edge and hurled herself off the side, grabbing hold of the top. Before she could start her downward climb, Boris was on top off her, gripping her wrist and hauling her back up.
“Let me go!” she screamed, kicking out at him, viciously catching him in the thigh with the tip of her boot.
“Enough!” he roared. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”
She twisted in his arms, screaming and biting, using every trick she knew without pulling a single punch until he finally had enough. He grabbed hold of one of her braids, yanked her head back and slapped her hard enough to send her spinning into the top of the container. Black spots danced in Laney’s eyes as she lay in a puddle of water attempting to pick herself back up so she could resume her fight. He crouched over top of her, pinning her hips to the metal, and pulled her arms ruthlessly behind her back.
Laney moaned and twisted a little, but she was too weak to fight him in that position. He used something to secure her hands tightly behind her back, then he moved down her body and did the same with her feet. Slowly, he stood. Laney rolled onto her side and looked up at him. He towered above her in that position, every inch of his 6’7” solidly muscled frame on display. She must have been insane to take him on. He looked angrier than she had ever seen him before. She had horribly miscalculated when she’d run from and then fought him. Now she was going to pay for it.
He bent over, picked her up and slung her effortlessly over one broad shoulder. Laney caught one last glimpse of the gorgeous Pacific Ocean stretched out in every direction before he began descending the shipping containers with her. He didn’t say a single word as he took her back to his cabin.
CHAPTER TEN
Laney had time on their journey back to the cabin to marvel at how Boris moved with such ease for a man so large and solidly muscled. Even her added weight didn’t faze him at all. Their climb down the containers, though dizzying from her vantage point, had seemed effortless fo
Laney also marveled at how they ran into no one on their way back. It was like the crew members sensed it was in their best interests not to cross paths with the giant Russian enforcer just now, while his mood was a little on the horny and unstable side. Laney wasn’t sure if she wished someone would stumble upon them. On the one hand, she rather hoped for rescue, but realistically she knew, aside from Daniel Mercer who was presently not on the ship, no human man would stand a chance again the mammoth Russian. If any of the crew tried to intervene on her behalf it would likely mean instant death. Besides, Laney was pretty sure they all worked for Sitnikov anyway, which meant they also worked for Boris.
Marveling at things kept Laney from losing her mind and panicking during their seemingly very long trek. How freaking long is this damn ship, anyway? Laney twisted around as much as she could to see if they were near the cabins, but Boris brought his palm down in a painful slap on her ass, drawing a short scream from her.
“Be still,” he snapped.
She wanted to kick him in the chest, but she also didn't want any more painful spankings, so she remained still, seething and plotting his many deaths. They arrived at the cabin moments later. Boris swung the door open and ducked beneath the frame, careful not to hit her against anything. He kicked the door shut behind them and reached back to flip the lock.
In one smooth motion Boris dropped her off his shoulder and onto the bed. Laney landed on her side with a bounce. She rolled over as far from him as she could get and wiggled and pushed herself up until she sat against the wall. She glared up at him as if daring him to touch her. Wet hair had worked its way loose from her braids and clung to her face and body.
He stared down at her. The hard look was still present in his face, but satisfaction and blazing lust were now there as well. She remembered his words when he’d proposed his game of hide and seek. That when he found her he would ‘keep her.’ He didn’t say for how long. She shivered, becoming terribly afraid she’d underestimated Boris Grekov all along.
Without breaking eye contact, he reached for the zipper on his leather coat and drew it down over his massive chest. He let the heavy coat fall to the floor with an ominous thump. Blood from the wound she had given him traced a path from near his elbow down to the back of his hand, following the veins and tattoos that snaked over his muscular arm. Laney slitted her eyes in a furious glare as he reached for the bottom of his T-shirt, peeling the fabric up and over his head, baring his huge, tattooed chest. It was the first time she had seen him even partially naked. Not that he hadn’t offered many times before. Now he was taking the choice from her hands.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but she was helpless against the image of a large intricate cross with a Virgin Mary kneeling below it tattooed in the middle of his chest. She realized right away that she shouldn’t have closed her eyes when she felt the bed shift under his knee. Her eyes flew open and she came face to chest with his brutal tattoos. He used his T-shirt to wipe the blood from his arm before tossing it carelessly aside and then turning purposefully to face his prey.
Her panicked gaze flew to the side and she lunged away from him, but she had no place to go. He grabbed her and shoved her face down into the bedding with one hand at the back of her neck. Laney struggled but she couldn’t possibly break free. With a deep sigh, she forced herself to relax her body in defeat.
“Do you yield?” he growled in her ear, leaning over her prone body, his beard tickling the delicate skin of her neck.
She buried her face into the soft quilt of the bed and breathed deeply, her mind racing frantically for a way out. Then she realized, this was not the ugly brown blanket that had been on the bed when they had first arrived in the cabin. Lifting her head a little, she looked at it. The quilt was made of lovely patchwork with a wide variety of pretty shapes and colours, very much something she might pick out for her bed. Not at all Boris’ style. He must have brought it with him and placed it on the bed.
With a tiny sigh, she nodded her head.
He shifted himself backwards until he was straddling her, his massive erection pressed into her backside. He ignored his own immediate needs for the moment though, while his huge, nimble hands began searching her for weapons. She didn’t blame him. Though she said she would capitulate, if the situations were reversed, she wouldn’t believe him either.
He unknotted her braids and ran his fingers through them, searching her hair for weapons. Smart. She’d definitely hidden blades there before. She moaned in ecstasy as his fingers massaged her scalp. Her hair had been in tight braids for almost two full days and it felt both deliciously painful and pleasurable to have it taken down. Boris paused at the sounds she made and, if she weren’t mistaken, pressed his erection a little tighter into her backside.
He lifted her slightly to run his fingers down her front and under her breasts searching for hidden sheaths. Then he ran his hands down her sides and searched all the hidden crevices and seams in her clothes. She squirmed and bit her lip as he pressed his fingers into her armpits. He searched her waistband and just as he was about to dip his fingers into her panties she stopped him.
“There’s a hidden sheath in my boot!” she gasped.
He twisted back and quickly found the knife she confessed to. “Is that all?” he asked.
She nodded. “I promise, you have the last of my weapons.”
He chuckled darkly. “You will excuse me if I do not believe you.”
“Believe what you want!” she snapped. “I’m telling the truth.”
“Like you told the truth when you agreed to our game and then decided to go back on your word and fight me anyway?” he asked, anger returning to voice as he continued to search her roughly.
“Fuck you!” she snapped.
“That is my plan, hissing little kitten,” he said, flipping her onto her back.
She groaned in pain as her weight settled on top of her bound hands. He frowned down at her and shook his head. After a moment of thought, he reached under her and released her hands. Laney tried to bring them around so she could push him away, but he quickly recaptured her wrists and brought them over her head. He knotted them together and secured them over her head.
She twisted her head up to see what she was tied to and was shocked to see a solid looking bolt screwed into the wall over the bed. She realized the ropes were extremely durable but comfortable and had probably come on board with him too. She looked up at him with accusation shining in her eyes.
“You planned this, you asshole!” she yelled up at him.
His jaw grew rigid as he stared her down. She shrank back against the pillows. “If you yell at me again I will tape your mouth shut. And yes, I also brought tape, just in case. I was prepared for anything, Laney. You have played many games over the past months. I am done with games. Is time for us to get serious.”
She twisted her hips in an attempt to dislodge him, but only managed to bring a predatory glint to his hard gaze. He pulled his own switchblade from his belt, opened it and touched it to the neckline of her military style T-shirt.
“Don’t you dare!” she growled, pressing her body down into the bedding.
He flashed her a feral grin and yanked the blade through her shirt as easily as though it were butter. She snarled in frustration, but swallowed her angry screams, knowing he would indeed tape her mouth shut. He reached for the strap of her blue sports bra next.
“Please don’t!” she begged him. “I only brought one with me.”
He stared down at her for a second, dark eyes clashing with light then continued to slide the blade through the elasticized sports top, yanking the pieces away as he stripped them with the blade. Her jaw fell open. Boris had never ignored her pleas before. She had well and truly angered the giant man and he was going to make sure she paid for her infraction.
She moaned in distress as he bared her breasts to his surprised gaze. Dark-tipped nipples pebbled in the chill air. He brought the hand that wasn't holding the knife up and covered her size C breast with one large palm, wrapping his fingers around the globe and squeezing gently.
“So fucking beautiful,” he breathed, staring down at her. “You hid yourself well, little ninja. Not even I suspected what you hid beneath your ugly bras, designed to flatten such a bounty.”
Laney rolled her eyes. Obviously, he’d never tried to throw a punch or accomplish a spinning hook-heel kick with the girls flying around unimpeded. He pinched her nipple between his thumb and finger and squeezed drawing a moan of pleasure from her. Laney bit her lip to keep the sounds to herself.
He gave her a stern look and squeezed harder. “You will give me your pleasure, moy kotenok,” he growled down at her, roughly massaging her breast.
“Ahhhh,” she panted, trying not to arch into his hands. The chemistry that ignited between them whenever he got his hands on her body flared to life within her, begging her to give in, to let him lead her down the path of ecstasy she knew he was so capable of. “You… you told me to keep my mouth shut or you’ll tape it. Now you are telling me to release my sounds. Which will it be, hypocritical beast?”
He tugged her nipple hard drawing a sharp cry from her, before releasing her breast. “You will quickly learn what I want and you will learn to obey me.” He moved down her body and reached for her ankles, releasing her bonds. She immediately tried to kick him in the head, but he caught her ankle. She wrapped her other knee around his thick neck and slammed her strong legs together in an attempt to choke him out.
“We’ve done this before,” he growled, reaching for her thighs and shoving them back using his superior strength, as he would have done in their very first encounter if he hadn’t let her gain a point on him. He crawled between her thighs while she panted with the strain of trying to close her legs on his thick neck. “No more fucking games.”
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