And I know he means it.
“I’m fine.”
The stranger nods. “Okay. Have a good night.”
When he walks away, I breathe a sigh of relief. Only when his car drives off does Aleksei move, his fingers tightening around my jaw, thumb dragging lazily across my bottom lip.
A shiver skates down my spine.
“Good girl. I like it when you’re obedient.”
I despise how those words melt something inside me. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
His husky laugh sends liquid heat down my body. “But you like it, don’t you, moya okhotnitsa? I bet if I dipped a finger inside that cunt, you’d soak it.”
My core instantly clenches.
How the hell does he know? And what does that word mean?
“Listen to me, asshole. This ends now. You need to stop following me. Toying with me. Because if you don’t, I will file a restraining order. And when you violate it, I’ll bury you so deep in the system, they won’t even find your teeth.”
“You’re very adorable, even when you play the frozen little ice princess. But I bet when I get you under me, you’ll be soft, warm, and agreeable. And if not…” His knuckles softly graze my cheek. “I’ll fuck the frost right out of you.”
I slap him before I can stop myself. My eyes expand the moment it happens, and his smirk widens, a growl spilling from deep in his chest.
His grip finds my throat, squeezing tight, while his body pushes into mine until I can feel him thick and heavy against my stomach. “That was not very polite.”
“Let me go.”
He tsks. “Not until you apologize. Nicely.”
I tip my chin up, needing to fight whatever is happening here. “Fuck you, Marinov. This isn’t a game.”
His mouth hovers near mine, so close I can taste the promise of a kiss in the air between us. “I beg to differ. Because I’m having a lot of fun.”
His lips skim down the side of my throat, and the moment his mouth touches skin, my head tips back without permission,colliding with my car. A soft sound escapes me, and I immediately regret it when I see the smug expression on his gorgeous face. That same one he wore when he beat me in court.
Revulsion surges through my veins, colliding with the hunger I wish I could kill. I squeeze my eyes shut, and I’m back in the shower after court, fingers working between my thighs as I imagined all the filthy things he’d do if he ever got close enough.
And now here he is, touching me like he has the right.
Because who’s going to stop him? Clearly not me.
“You should know, Ms. Prosecutor…” His words are a husky drag over my skin. “You’re the one who came to my bar. Maybe I’m the one who needs a restraining order from you.”
His bar? Oh God.
“I didn’t know…” The confession slips out on a breath as his hand slides to my hip, then lower.
“Prove it.”
My heartbeat stutters as his fingers slip under the hem of my dress, slow enough to make my lungs ache. He grazes bare skin, dragging upward, his touch a lazy threat that feels more like a promise. Inch by inch, higher and higher…until his knuckles ghost along the sensitive inside of my thigh.
A moan shivers out, my lips parting against my will. “Don’t.”
The word is both fragile and unconvincing. Because I don’t even know what I mean.
Don’t stop? Don’t go further? Don’t make me beg for something I swore I’d never want?
