He waits for me to speak, and when I don’t, his lips tilt up in a mocking half-smile. “Think about it, zaychik,” he advises softly, the muscles in his powerful body rippling as he rises to his feet. “Think about how good it’ll be when you come to me.”
By the time I finally formulate a reply, he’s gone, leaving a faint trace of bergamot and cedar on my sheets—and utter turmoil in my mind and body.
23
Nikolai
It takes every bit of the self-control I’ve cultivated over the years to walk into my bedroom and close the door behind me. Lust, dark and potent, pulses through me, demanding I get back to Chloe and continue where we left off.
I head into my bathroom instead. Stripping off my sweat-soaked shorts, I turn on the shower and set the temperature all the way to cold. Then I step under the spray, letting the chill of the water cool the fire raging in my blood.
Too fucking soon.
I could’ve pushed her further, I know, but it would’ve been too soon. She’s not ready for this, for me. The nightmare made her lower her guard, but my sister’s untimely interruption reminded her of all the reasons she shouldn’t want me, all the reasons she thinks this is wrong. Her body may want me, but her mind is fighting the attraction. It frightens her, the intensity of what simmers between us, and I can’t blame her.
It almost frightens me.
There’s something different about my desire for the girl, something both tender and violent… a possessiveness that goes beyond simple lust. When I thought she was in trouble, all I could think about was getting to her, protecting her, destroying anyone who’d hurt her. And when she started thrashing around in the throes of her nightmare, the need to comfort her had been too powerful to deny. I retained just enough presence of mind to lay the gun down in the hallway, and then I was there, holding her as she shook and sobbed, her obvious terror tearing at me, filling me with frustration and helpless fury.
She’s been traumatized, hurt by someone or something, and I don’t know who or what.
I don’t know, and I need to know.
I need it, so I can protect her.
I need it because in my mind, she’s already mine.
I still under the cold spray, a dark realization threading through me.
Alina is right to fear for Chloe.
I am a danger to her, though not for the reason my sister imagines. She thinks I want the girl as a disposable fuck toy, a casual plaything, but she’s wrong. As much as I want to bury myself in Chloe’s tight little body, I want to get inside her mind even more. I want to know every thought behind those brown eyes, to lay bare her every want and need… every scar and wound. I want to dig deep into her psyche, and not just because of the secrets she’s hiding.
I don’t just want to unravel the mystery she represents.
I want to unravel her.
I want to take her apart and understand what makes her tick.
I want that so I can make her tick solely for me, so she can be mine alone.
I want her the way my father must’ve once wanted my mother… a lifetime ago, before their love turned to hate.
For one long, stomach-hollowing second, I contemplate doing the right thing. I consider walking away, or rather, letting Chloe do so. First thing tomorrow, I could give her two months’ pay, free of strings, and send her on her way… watch her drive out of here in her rundown Toyota.
I consider it, and I dismiss it.
It may be too soon for Chloe to occupy my bed, but it’s too late for me to do the right thing.
It was too late the moment I laid eyes on her… maybe even the moment I was born.
I meant what I said to her tonight.
This is inevitable. I feel the certainty of that deep in my bones.
She’ll come to me, drawn by the same dark, primal need that writhes under my skin.
She’ll give herself to me, and it’ll seal her fate.
Shutting off the cold water, I step out and towel off, then pad silently into my bedroom. The recessed lights in the headboard are lit, casting a soft glow on the white silk sheets, but the bed doesn’t feel welcoming. Not the way her bed felt, with her small, warm body in it. Not the way she felt, writhing against me, not asking but taking her pleasure from me, her lips like honey and sin, her taste like innocence and darkness combined.
My cock hardens anew, a wave of burning lust chasing away the chill lingering from the shower. Sitting down on the bed, I pull open my nightstand drawer and look at a pair of keys on a furry pink keychain—the ones Pavel gave me last evening, right after he re-parked Chloe’s car.