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“Snow,” I say a little louder, not wanting to startle her from her nightmare.
Her blue eyes fly open and meet mine. There’s something behind them that seems to settle when she sees it’s me beside her, but perhaps that’s wishful thinking.
“Where am I?” she whispers, her eyes taking in the new space she’s in. My bedroom is one of the only rooms in the house that I’ve kept locked since her arrival, not for any other reason than I suspected she may try to kill me at some point and didn’t want to make it easy for her. But my captive has been more docile than I expected.
“My room,” I tell her. “Let’s get you out of this dress and into something more comfortable.”
She stares at me for a moment before her eyes drop to what she’s wearing and then to the change of clothes I’m holding. “I can do it.” She reaches for the shorts in my hand, but I quickly move them from her grasp.
“I know youcando it.” I drop the silk to the bed beside her and begin pushing her satin gown up her legs before she can argue. “But I’m going to do it for you.”
Her eyes track my movements, the skin beneath my hands pebbles the higher I push her dress. Is my girl turned on? My lips twitch at the idea that despite her better judgment, she feels the pull I’ve felt the last ten years, but her eyes remain glued to my hands.
“Elijah,” Snow whispers, the worry in her voice evident.
I sigh, stopping my movements to touch my fingers to her chin and lift it until our eyes clash. “I’m not going to take advantage of you. I told you I wouldn’t touch you until you begged for it, and I meant it. Just relax and let me take care of you.”
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, considering me for a moment before she nods slightly.
I drop my hands back to the hem of her dress and move it up over her thighs. She lifts her ass just enough I can push the tight dress past, and then I whip it over her head.
My mouth dries when I allow my gaze to fall upon her perfect body. All milky white skin and hard rosy nipples. The only clothing remaining on her body is the tiniest thong I’ve ever seen in my life, and it’s making it difficult to keep my promise. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her naked, or close to at least, but this is different. This time she’s right in front of me, her soft skin within reach.
Snow’s body is a temptation I can’t refuse.
23
Snow
Elijah’s looking at me like he wants to eat me alive. His moss-green eyes are full of heat, to the point I wonder if anyone has ever looked at me like this before. I’m almost certain they haven’t, because surely I would remember my skin burning beneath someone's gaze.
His eyes slowly drag down my body, taking in every inch, every curve he’s uncovered until they fall on my face again. His breathing has changed since he removed my dress, but I don’t comment on it, not wanting to break the spell he’s under.
The man who rules with an iron fist looks ready to fall to his knees in front of me.
Elijah swallows heavily, his hand whispering across my thigh, gliding across my stomach until his knuckle brushes across my hardened nipples. I wish I could blame the cold for how hard they are, but it’s not the temperature in the room that has my body humming. It’s the look in his eye and how tense his shoulders are underneath his suit. He’s barely holding on to control.
A small moan drops from my lips as his knuckle circles my other nipple. As much as I want to tell the man who holds my fate in his hands I’m not interested, that’s just not the case, especially after tonight.
I drag in a shaky breath, words I never thought I would say sitting at the tip of my tongue. Maybe it’s the trauma and fear from the night, or something else entirely, but my body screams at me to beg him to touch me, but I manage to swallow the words. If I’m going to make that choice, I’m going to do it with a clear mind.
The doorbell chimes through the house and tears our attention from each other. The spell we were under is broken, and Elijah immediately reaches for the shirt he dropped earlier and wastes no time slipping it over my head and helping my arms into it. Before I can say anything, he drops to his knees in front of me and carefully drags the shorts up my leg, tapping my thigh when he wants me to lift my ass. He reaches for the robe resting at the end of the bed and helps me to slip my arms in before wrapping it tightly around me and tying it around the waist.
I’ve never allowed anyone to dress me, not since I was a kid, but there’s something almost intimate about the moment. Maybe it’s the way we’re both breathing a little too heavy considering we’re doing such a menial task, or maybe it’s because ever since I opened my eyes, Elijah has been looking at me like his entire world begins and ends with me.
“The doctor is going to take a look at you and make sure you’re not injured.”
“I’m fine,” I whisper, not trusting my voice not to break.
“That may be, but I want to have a medical professional confirm that.”
Before I can respond, the door opens, and Mary appears in the doorway with a very angry Doc standing beside her. The man who I’ve known for years looks around the room with murderous intensity in his black eyes. When his stare falls on me, he seems to relax slightly, but that moment of calm is gone almost as quickly as it came when it lands on Elijah standing slightly in front of me, as if putting his body between me and a threat.
“What the fuck are you doing with her?” Doc thunders, taking long steps toward us until he towers over Elijah. He’s not a short man, not by any means being well over six foot, but Doc would tower over anyone. He’s six foot seven and made of pure muscle. Plus, he has the whole, covered in tattoos thing going on that adds to how intimidating he is.
“She’s mine,” Elijah manages through gritted teeth. He’s barely holding on to his composure, and something tells me if one more person questions our relationship, if that’s what you want to call it, he’s going to snap.
Doc’s eyes flare with anger and in the blink of an eye, he’s dropped his medical bag and wrapped his fist around Elijah’s throat. “What’s your game here, Russo?” he growls.
