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Without warning, Mikhail pushes himself inside me. He doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t say a single word. My fingers claw at his back as he moves in and out of me quickly. I want more. I want to feel his anger.
I dig my nails into his back harder.
He lifts his head up slightly. I cry out from the pain he’s putting on me, but it’s the good kind of pain. The kind that brings me close to climax. When he fucks me like this, he’s telling me things his voice would never be able to. I know how he feels about me, and he’s showing me with passion—whether he wants to or not.
My heart rate spikes when he moves my legs to the side. He pulls my head back with my hair, forcing my attention onto him. I wrap my arm around and pull him closer, slamming my lips to his. His moan in my mouth throws me over the edge. My core throbs and I bite down on his bottom lip—hard.
Mikhail pulls out of me and comes over my stomach.
My clit burns from the friction. I know for a fact I’ll be sore. I make a face when I move my legs slightly. I wanted this, and I’m happy it happened, butfuckdoes everything hurt now. I grab my shorts and wipe his come off my stomach, sitting up on the bed. Just as I’m about to leave to use the bathroom, he grabs my hand, stopping me.
“Forgive me,” he mutters, looking at me with saddened eyes. “I know I hurt you.”
A smile tugs on the corner of my lips. “You gave me what I needed.” I hold his face in my hands and wipe the frown away with a kiss.
CHAPTER22
SLOANE
Sunlight breaks through the floor-to-ceiling windows, blinding me as I walk down the steps. I stop when I see a note taped to the wall.
I have things to take care of. Dimitri is here to watch over you.
—Mikhail
Leave it to Mikhail to abandon me after a night like that.
He wanted me to let go for one night. But why would I give him that? He walks around with his head held high, constantly telling me what to do.
I can’t be with him more than I already am. I told him I couldn’t because I know I won’t be able to act as if nothing happened. The man I used to loathe is slowly creeping past the fine line between love and hate. It’s as if he’s making me choose between the two.
When it comes to Mikhail ... I’ll gladly choose hate.
Through the glass that surrounds the main door, I see a bright yellow car with the word “Taxi”on the top. My hands cover my face as I hold in a laugh on the verge of hysterical.
I turn away from the door and stop when I see Dimitri passed out on the couch with his mouth open, snoring. His phone is slowly falling off his chest with each huff of air he takes. I could walk up to him, take the phone, and call Ruslan. Mikhail knows my family wants me back, but he wants them to sweat—I know it.
Being trapped in the arms of Mikhail isn’t the worst thing. I’m not treated poorly—at least not anymore—but I don’t like the idea of being stuck in here like a house cat. I want to have a life to live. I want to have priorities. I can’t just sit on the couch all day and wait for Mikhail to come home and tell me all about his productive day. I don’t want to rely on another person for my own stability, but he’s forcing me to do that. I don’t have the option to do much of anything while I’m here with him.
At least, that’s what he wants me to think.
I walk past Dimitri, trying my hardest to be as quiet as possible. I wave my hand in front of his face just to make sure he’s asleep. When I hear a large huff of air, my eyes widen, and I jump back. He’s definitely asleep. I slowly back my way to the door and question if what I’m doing will bite me in the ass later. It probably will, but there’s a loud voice screaming in the back of my mind, telling me to leave.
I’ll come back to Mikhail—I just want to explore. I want to sit in a car for hours and see the world. I love my family, I do, but if I go back to them, I’ll be on a lockdown worse than what I’m currently enduring.
On the table I see a wallet. I open it up to find Mikhail’s name plastered everywhere.Why would he leave without his wallet?Without complaining, I take his card, put on shoes, and open the door slowly. I’ll probably regret this, but I need to get out, even if it’s just for a little while.
Stockholm syndrome is no joke.
I walk out the house like I’ve done it a million times before. Seagulls fly above me in the open, blue sky, forcing a smile from me. The street is surrounded by gorgeous trees and bushes that have bright blue flowers growing on them.
Skipping across the street, I tap on the car window.
The man inside looks at me brightly and rolls the glass down.
“Hi!” I say, cheerful so I don’t draw attention, even though I’m most likely doing the opposite. “Could you give me a ride to the city?” I ask.
He nods.
