Page 56

His thumb idly brushes my waist as he considers the question.

“Will you give me a key if I stop?” he murmurs and my eyes widen.

I stare at him for a long moment before a slow smile spreads across my face.

“Let me guess.” My fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, my legs settling around his waist. “You’re trying to be a gentleman. You’re asking instead of breaking in.”

The corners of his mouth twitch.

“You think I should reward the effort and hand over the key.”

“You catch on quick, malyshka.”

“You can have it.” I shrug my shoulder and a genuine smile appears on his face.

It’s so bright, it’s almost blinding.

“I’m leaving this place, anyway.” And it dies instantly.

His expression hardens, the warmth draining from his eyes as he snarls in my ear. “You’re not leaving me.”

“I told you to stop acting like a freak.” I grunt, grabbing his silky dark brown strands and pulling them apart. “Now, let me go.”

He growls when I pull on the strands, harshly this time.

The sight makes me chuckle—fuck, no time to laugh.

His hold loosens around me and the moment my feet touch the ground; I jam my knees in his balls taking a step away as he keels over with a grunt.

What a sight. I admire it for a second too long before remembering that I should probably be running.

“Ow! Fuuuuuuuuuuck.” He pants, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Your defiance is just giving me a massive hard-on.”

Bloody freak.

I whirl around and sprint, barely making it three steps before a fist tangles in my hair. He yanks me backwards, my back slamming into the solid wall of his chest.

A sharp sting blooms across my scalp, forcing a whimper from my lips.

“Pull my hair like that again,” I hiss, stomping hard on his foot, “and I’ll shave your entire bloody head.”

“Do you feel this?” He hisses, unfazed of my continuous jabs as he presses his hard cock against my back. “This is what your fight is doing to me.”

I still, my chest heaving from the entirely unnecessary workout.

Maybe we could just talk this out like two rational adults. And then I’d pepper-spray him in the eyes and make a run for the door.

“S-Sergei.” I gasp, dragging in a shaky breath.

“Elara.” He groans, his arm tightening around my waist until I have no choice but to follow the pull.

“Sergei.” My voice comes out softer this time. “What are you doing?” What are we doing?

This constant push and pull. The anger. The hunger. Why can’t I stay away from him? Why won’t he let me leave?

What is this thing that keeps dragging us back to each other?

“I think I’m about to spank you.” He declares, his arms firm around me when my knees buckle, catching me before I can fall.