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Light floods the room. I grit my teeth when my dick twitches at the sight of her in a see-through white silk robe. Her dark hair hangs wet around her face, droplets of water clinging to the strands. Her skin pales when she eyes the blade at her throat, lips parting as she raises her shocked gaze toward me.
A bead of blood from the blade drips onto the white silk covering her perfect tits, tainting the perception of innocence and purity.
So fucking ironic.
I lean in close, my eyes tracing the outline of her full, trembling lips. “I’m the guy who’s about to kill you.”
Chapter6
Larysa
His hand moves from my lips down to my throat. Thick, inked fingers wrap tight around my neck, squeezing my windpipe to the point where I can’t even squeak out a cry for help. Or dare, since the tip of the blade is still resting against my skin.
“P-please don’t.” I claw at his flesh, panicked thoughts exploding like bullets.
What the hell are the security guys doing outside that they let this maniac slip past? Are they jerking each other off, for Pete’s sake?
Reality pelts me in the gut.
I’m on my own to do the job they couldn’t.
I have to save myself…and my baby girl.
I dig my nails into his hand, desperate to break skin and startle him into dropping the knife. Short gasps expel from my lips, my chest heaving.
What if the security guys are dead? What if this psycho killed them?
And who the hell is he, anyway?
The questions percolate in my mind, but I can’t drag in enough oxygen to scream them out loud.
I take a long, hard look at the man who is slowly choking the life out of me. Tears spring to my eyes as I struggle against him.
There’s something so familiar about him.
My heart thrashes in my chest, blurred memories bouncing between my ears like ping pong balls.
Holy shit…it can’t be…
Eyes so piercing, they can lance my soul.
Daniela’s eyes.
I remember staring into them years ago, getting lost in the turbulent waves. Deep dark swirls held me captive, pulling me under until I was completely consumed and unwilling to break free. The golden devilish glint that danced around in his intoxicating gaze, beckoning me to do his salacious will.
Which I did…over and over again.
I remember tracing the outline of his chiseled jaw, and how the stubble of his beard tickled my mouth and every other place on my body where his lips performed assault after delicious assault.
Oh my God, it is him.
I never knew his name. Didn’t bother to ask. He gave me the much-needed distraction from life I needed that night back in Kiev. He made me forget everything with his hands, his mouth, and his body. It was one night of complete and utter reckless abandon, one that blunted the sting of Juilliard’s rejection.
He fucked me six ways from Sunday and put his baby in my belly.
And now he wants to kill me.
“Does it hurt?” he hisses, pressing himself against my chest, the pressure flattening my lungs. His eyes glow with demonic intent, brimming with hatred and anger. “I want it to hurt. I want you to scream in agony, to beg for mercy that will never come.”
