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He moves faster than a man of his size ought to be able to. In what feels like the space of a second, cold metal clamps around my wrist, and then he closes the other end around the bedpost.
I blink at it, trying to fathom what I’m seeing.
Handcuffs.He’s handcuffed me. And there’s another pair in his other hand.
“Levin!” I screech his name, unable to fully process what’s happening. “What are you—you can’t—”
“Oh I certainly can,” he assures me. “Get on the bed.”
“I—”
Fuck.Hearing Levin Volkov, mycaptor, tell me to get on the bed in that tone while one of my wrists is handcuffed to the bed turns me on more than it should. It sends a shiver through me, freezing me in place long enough for him to let out a grunt of frustration.
“Fine.” He grabs me bodily around the waist, tossing me onto the bed unceremoniously and grabbing my other wrist before I can squirm away, locking the other cuff onto it and then half-leaping, half-climbing over me to lock the other end around the bedpost on my other side.
“I told you that very first afternoon when you woke up, that I would tie you to the bed if I had to,” Levin says sharply, standing at the foot of the bed as he looks at me. “And after today, I told you that I’d make sure you didn’t leave this room again.”
“What—how am I supposed to pee? Or eat?” I look at him incredulously, horrified. “Levin—”
He smirks. “Hearing you say my name like that, begging, while handcuffed to my bed—”
Fuck.He’s aroused. I can see it from here, the thick bulge in his jeans that he so often sports around me, just like my panties are all too frequently damp because of him. But not right now. Right now I’mpissed. I’m handcuffed to a bed, and I amnotaroused. I’m angry. Spitting mad.
Right?
Right?
Levin
I’m not sure I’ve ever been more aroused in my entire fucking life, and it’s all Lidiya Petrovna’s fault.
Sex, especially with her, was the last thing on my mind when I came out of the bathroom earlier to find her gone. Interesting, since just the night before I’d fingered her to an orgasm and then come all over her dress. But I’d been so angry in that moment at having been outplayed by her again, that I hadn’t even been thinking what I had been in the shower any longer—that I wanted to join her in bed, run my hands over her until she sleepily awoke, and then do any number of things to her relaxed, pliable body.
I was fuckingfurious.
It hadn’t been hard to figure out where she’d go first. She’d take out as much money as she could at the ATM she was most familiar with—the one across from her apartment—and then go up to collect whatever other things she thought she couldn’t live without. After that she’d go to the nearest train station that would take her to herbabushka’s.
I’d known where she was going, I was just glad I’d caught her at her apartment, before having to chase her down at the train station or follow her to some other town. I might haveactuallylost my temper then.
But now—
I clench my teeth, fighting back waves of arousal. I’d known what I planned to do, but I hadn’t been prepared for just how gorgeous she would look handcuffed to my bed—for just how easily a number of scenarios would fill my mind, all the things I could do to her there, while she lay mostly helpless and restrained.
She’s spitting mad, her blonde hair a tangle around her face, her blue eyes fiery, her body absolute perfection even under the thick clothing she’s wearing, and I want to fuck her so badly it hurts.
I’ve never taken advantage of a woman, and I’m not about to start now. But I have to physically pull myself away from Lidiya, stalking away into the bathroom as she squirms and curses at me from where she’s restrained, my jaw clenched the entire way.
What does shedoto me?I feel almost physically unhinged around her, like I’m not in control of my emotions anddefinitelynot in control of my body’s reactions. I’m legitimately pissed at her for putting us both in so much danger, and yet I’m rock-fucking-hard right now, my cock about to burst through the fly of my jeans like I didn’t just spurt my cum all over her last night because I’d lost control of my arousal.
I’d do almost anything to get her out of my hotel room, so I could stop feeling this way, except the one thing that actually would—calling Vladimir and telling him that I can’t finish the job. Not only would that mean a demotion or worse for me, it would hand her over to whoever takes my place—someone bound to be much less gentle and forgiving.
The thought of someone else’s hands on her inanyway makes me feel murderous. I don’t want any other man touching her, not even Grisha, who is supposed to in order for us to get this job done. The idea of someone hurting her makes me want to flay the skin from their body, just thinking about it.
This jealousy that I feel, this possessiveness, is out of control. I’ve never felt it for anyone, and it’s impossible that I’m starting now—except Iam. I feel like she’s driving me mad.
I turn on the taps in the bathroom, splashing ice cold water on my face. It sends enough of a shock to my system to lessen my arousal for a moment, and I stare into the mirror still dripping, glaring at myself.
“Pull it together, Volkov. She’s a girl. There’s a hundred other girls like her in Moscow, more probably. When this is done, find one, find two, hell findfiveif you want, and fuck them all at once until you get your fill. But don’t get yourself killed over a—”
