The memories are torturous.
“To escape, I’d have to find a way to kill you first,” she says, looking straight at me. There’s a flicker of fear in her eyes, and it blends perfectly with the defiance in them. “Then I’ll make a run for it and pray none of those other sickos you work with notice you’re nothing but a decomposing corpse before I make it to the gate.”
Amusement rises in my chest.
Christ, that mouth of hers.
“Then?”
“Then I’ll report you and your minions to the cops and make sure you never get a proper funeral.”
A yacht charter manager? Scratch that, she’s better off working as an enforcer in the mafia with how ruthless her words are.
She’s braver that most men I’ve seen. Most of them cower in my presence, but this small, fragile-looking woman dares to plot my murder right in front of me.
I snort. “Is that supposed to scare me?”
She folds her arms across her chest and shrugs. “I don’t know. Is it working?”
A chuckle rumbles in my chest. I cross the room, making my way over to her. She instinctively steps backward, but I take that as an invitation to inch closer.
“Just so you know, this entire house is surrounded by my men. If you try to escape, you’d be dead before you even make it out the front door.”
Fear bleeds into those green pools, consuming whatever defiance there was in them. Still, she refuses to back down. “I don’t care as long as you’re dead, too.”
I scoff and press my fingers to her jaw, then tilt her head so she’s forced to look into my eyes. “I’m not that easy to kill. Men have tried. Men who are stronger and more powerful than you could ever be.”
“Has a woman ever tried?” She gives me lopsided smile. “I don’t need to be brave or powerful. I just need to make a perfect plan.”
“And how do you plan to do that, ptichka? I ask. The pent-up frustration and anger I feel at this entire situation are slowly turning into a deep ache for her. I don’t fight for self-control this time. Instead, I tighten my grip around her neck and pull her closer. “By seducing me? Is that why you had your towel slip?”
Her breath hitches and her cheeks turn red with heat. “You fucking animal.” She sneers at me. “I’d fuck a log of wood before I ever let you touch me.”
“Is that so?” I grin, lowering my face to hers. I’m intoxicated by her scent and the way she bites her lip when I bring our faces only about half an inch apart. “Let’s find out.”
I crash my lips against hers.
Elena freezes for a moment, locking her jaw even as her fingers curl around the collar of my shirt.
I groan at the resistance I meet before pushing my tongue into her mouth and kissing her like a feral animal who’s been starved for far too long.
She moans into my mouth, and then she begins to kiss me back slowly. I feel her rise up to her tiptoes before she wraps her arms around my neck.
Deepening our kiss, I wrap my arms around her waist and instinctively reach for her ass cheeks, squeezing them. They’re soft.
My cock throbs painfully in my pants, every cell in me yearning to know what being inside her feels like. My obsession burns through my veins like electricity, and before I know it, I have her pinned against the wall.
Fuck!
I’m almost far too gone before I realize what I’m doing.
Elena’s my prisoner, and as much as the thought of her makes me want to lose my mind, I shouldn’t be doing this. Intimacy is a recipe for disaster, one I should be avoiding at all costs, not diving into headfirst.
A pang of regret hits me as I pull away from her.
She’s breathing hard, gasping for air. Her lips are red from the intensity of our kiss, and the anger I saw in her eyes earlier has completely vanished.
She’s seeped into me like venom, flooding my bloodstream and spreading through my chest until I’m entirely consumed by her.
