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“I know that, whore. It’s yours. Sold yourself for the first cock that came around, just like your mother. That’s whyyou’llpay the price for it.”
It takesa long time and about half a bottle of vodka for my heart to slow. Dmitri. Vasily. Sin.
Their faces run through my mind on a loop.
My head swims with foggy memories. I repeatedly bring the bottle up to my lips until everything blurs from my mind completely.
I don’t remember makingmy way to bed or undressing, but when I wake it’s with a shiver over my bare skin. The room is dark with only a small light in the far corner, and I’m still quite drunk, but I’m aware enough to feel the prickle of eyes on me.
I scan the room as my hand drifts under my pillow toward the pistol I keep there. I hear the faintest noise from behind me the split second before I feel the barrel against my temple. From this angle it will be hard to disarm anyone, so I know I need to shift my body. The barrel presses harder.
“I wouldn’t move,malysha,” Sin’s voice says as the safety clicks. I push my temple into it as I turn my head to see only the glint of his eyes and a flash of chrome in the dim light.
“You going to shoot me?” I ask sarcastically, turning just my head. “Fucking do it.”
This is not the first time I’ve had a gun pointed at my head, so if he thinks this will scare me, he’s got another thing coming.
He chuckles, a low sound, then clicks the safety off. “No.”
With gritted teeth, I rip myself around, rolling toward him heedless of my nakedness. I grapple in the darkness, but he’s so much more powerful than me, so the element of surprise isn’t enough. It's quickly apparent that I won’t easily be able to get the gun from him. His laughter booms louder as he manages to twist me around with my arm across my body, my back held tight to his chest. On my knees, I don’t have the leverage I need to bring up a leg, and his grip on my wrist and the iron bar that is his arm keeps my torso from moving despite my efforts.
“No security in this room, is there?” he whispers in my ear. My legs are still kicking, but he lifts me so I’m suspended, only held up by him. I try to pull back, but his tongue darts out and runs up my cheek.
“You’re going to die painfully for this. Regardless of what you do to me, you won’t be able to get out of here,” I warn him, my voice more of a hiss than anything. I feel him smile against my face before he tosses the gun to the bed and reaches behind him. I struggle against his grip and contemplate screaming, but I doubt anyone would hear me through the stone walls.
“Who said I was trying to get out of here?”
My blade, the one I now realize I must’ve stupidly left within his reach, comes up in his other hand, shining in the light, moving slowly in front of my face until it trails down my cheek, temporarily stopping my struggles. I turn my head and press my skin against the sharp edge, just barely, not hard enough to break the skin.
“Do it,” I hiss, a small smirk on my lips. He turns so we’re mere inches apart, the blade still pressed to my face. I feel my heart speed up at the proximity of our lips and swallow deeply. As the knife trails down my neck and chest, I couldn’t stop my heavy breathing if I tried. My entire body feels too hot and too cold, the feeling of the blade against me setting my body alight. I can’t help but notice the firmness of the bare chest I’m against or the hard length beneath the thin pants pressing against my bare ass. Rage and lust course through me simultaneously. As he tenderly caresses my nipple with the sharp edge, I can’t hold back a small moan. He chuckles.
“More afraid of my kisses than my knives?” he murmurs as he pushes harder into my breast. I gasp as the blade cuts through, a thin line of blood trailing down between my cleavage. The air seems to crackle between us.
I press my ass back, digging into his erection as he uses the edge of the knife to rub the line of blood into my skin. His hips press forward, and the knife moves just a fraction away from my body. It’s enough.
Using the tiny distraction, I wrench my wrist free from his grasp and drop my weight, twisting away from his body. Cursing, the knife drops as he turns his own body around and grabs both my wrists. I let out a shriek and pull back, but he only grips tighter, bringing me toward him so my wrists are held above my head. He’s so damn strong. If I pull too hard, my wrists will break. His face leans into mine, and I growl.
He laughs again, the moonlight shining on the burns of his face, the scar down his cheek. Not for the first time, I notice how blue his eyes are as the light reflects off them. “Feisty. I like that.”
Stepping forward, he pushes our bodies back until my knees hit the bed. His eyes drag down my body, and I resist the urge to twist away from his gaze. I feel blood trickle down my chest, and his eyes seem to darken.
“Like what you see?” I taunt.
He leans forward so our cheeks are touching, his mouth beside my ear when he whispers, “Not as much as you’ll like what I’m going to give you.”
Chapter 19
Sin
Before she can giveme any more fucking lip, I release her hands long enough to twist her around, shoving her face down to the bed with a knee between her legs and a hand on her neck. She once again struggles in earnest against me, and I feel my dick twitch. Bringing my head down, I bite her neck.
Her earlier reaction told me all I needed to know about how to subdue and get close to her. I grin at the cliché, the assassin seducing its prey, but fuck it. Lucky for me, she’s a stunning bitch, and fucking her in to submission is no hardship.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want this,kotonyok,” I press my straining cock against the crease of her ass. “I’m going to cut you again and make you come so hard you forget your own fucking name much less worry about mine,” I promise her as I lean over to pick up the knife, bringing it up to the faint light to admire it.
I’m about to lean down to trail the edge over her back when the light catches silvery scars. With her face pressed to the bed, she can’t reach me, and her complaints are muffled as I put the knife down.
When my finger touches the edge of the first scar she stops struggling, her breath becoming more ragged as I trace the long lines that mar her otherwise flawless skin.
