Contemplating obedience makes me shift my ass on the bed. The sting of the spanking has already worn off. If that’s Vlad’s version of punishment, I’m not in much danger of even breaking a nail. It appears he’s more into humiliation than invoking real pain or fear.
Which is good, because I’m not into real pain or fear, either.
And the humiliation...was pretty hot.
“And you?”
Surprise flits over his face, like no one’s ever asked him what he drinks. When he tosses a shrug, I realize it’s characteristic. “I like both.”
“But not espresso?” I let a teasing smile play at my lips.
I’m rewarded with an answering one that takes my breath away. He studies me for a moment, like I’m the most fascinating creature who ever walked the Earth, then feeds me another spoonful. “I never developed a taste for it. How do you like yours?”
I finish chewing and swallow. “Decaf cappuccino.”
“Decaf?” He sneers. “What’s the point?”
“The caffeine affects blood sugar more.” And my blood pressure, which isn’t good for the kidney problem, but I don’t like to think about that.
His face softens into sympathy. “Ah.” He thumbs a drop of milk away from my lower lip. “Such a perfect package, it’s hard to believe the goods inside are damaged.” I flinch and he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it that way. I only lament my misconception. The mafia princess doesn’t live the charmed life I imagined, that’s all.”
For some reason, that makes my eyes sting. Maybe because I didn’t expect so much compassion from my kidnapper.
Of course, he sees it. His brows dip and he slides his thumb over my cheek. “Shhh. I’ll take care of you, Alessia. I made a mistake drugging you yesterday, because I didn’t know. Won’t happen again. Your body requires vigilance. Maintaining a delicate balance. I will manage the diabetes. You don’t need to worry anymore.”
Something vibrates behind my sternum. A trembling I can’t identify. My eyes grow wet, although I cannot fathom why. I’ve always hated my family assuming I’m weak and fragile, fussing over me, yet the idea of him taking over feels like a relief.
This man needs to keep me alive. He’s using me for ransom money. He’s not a life partner pledging to take away the burden of diabetes. Or if that is what he’s doing, he’s insane. He won’t keep me as his captive bride. I’m not sticking around for that.
I turn my head away, refusing any more food. My stomach’s too knotted to eat more, anyway.
Vlad mutters something in Russian and unceremoniously pulls me flat on my back with his tattooed fingers around my thigh. My panties ride up my ass and I wriggle, trying to get them back down.
“Blyat.” He shakes his head and grips my wrists to refasten them to the headboard.
It’s obviously some kind of curse word. I would ask for the translation, but I’m feeling too sullen.
When Vlad leaves the room, I let myself indulge in a few tears.
Vlad
I keep away from the loft bedroom for most of the morning. The girl is far too much of a temptation to me, especially with her dress off.
Her punishment has become mine, too.
All morning long, though, her voice plays and replays in my ear. Her scent tickles my nose. I think of the feel of her silky hair through my fingers, or her pretty princess ass under my hand.
She’s so enticing. So far from the spoiled brat I imagined her to be.
But that doesn’t mean I can untie her. Or trust her. Or let her go.
Her brothers still owe me restitution.
Even so, when I send Mika out to pick us up burgers from In-N-Out, I have him swing through the Starbucks drive-thru for a large decaf cappuccino.
What can I say?
The girl’s already under my skin.
For a bratva member so high in the organization, I am too much of a sucker. That’s probably why Victor kept me behind the scenes. That, and as a favor to my mother. To keep me safe. Not that I didn’t have my fair share of violence.
When Mika returns, I bring the food upstairs.
Alessia lifts her head up and glares daggers at me, but her beautiful dusky pink nipples are hard.
Christ, is she turned on? From being tied up naked?
I sure as hell am. My cock lunges acrobatically at my zipper.
Fuck. This isn’t going to work. There’s no way I will manage to feed her without first holding her down and sucking each of those taut nipples until she’s moaning and wet.
I drop the food on the dresser and grab one of my t-shirts from the drawer. “I will permit you a brief outing,” I say, like I’m taking her to the zoo or something.
She narrows her eyes. “Outing where?”
“To kitchen.”
She snorts.
I untie her hands and inspect her wrists. I don’t like there are marks, despite the padding. I rub them out to restore circulation. Then, as the tick in my cheek becomes stronger and stronger due to the proximity of her fucking gorgeous breasts, I yank the t-shirt over her head.