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“Do I look like I care?”
He doesn’t, but I do. Even as I wrap my arms around his neck, I try to keep the gloves away. I don’t want to get blood on him.
There shouldn’t be any blood near him.
As soon as we’re inside the room, I squirm so he’ll let me go. In the bright light, I can see the crimson on my gloves, all over my coat, and down my dress. It’s everywhere, like a second skin.
Adrian lowers me to my feet and I scoot away. He clicks the door shut, and when he advances toward me, his eyes are hooded, dark, as if they’re brewing a storm or a volcano or both.
His white tuxedo shirt has smudges of blood on it. There’s some on his forehead, too. I don’t like it. I don’t want it on him and I hate that I’m the reason it’s there.
There really shouldn’t be blood on him.
I frown. That’s the second time I’ve had that thought in a few seconds. I have no clue why I’m plagued by that, but I know that I can’t see the crimson color on him. It tugs on a dark part of me where that black box I was trapped in exists.
“I… I’m going to take a shower.” I slip past him to the door. “I’ll do it in one of the other rooms.”
My hand is on the doorknob when his body flattens mine from behind, his hard muscles and tall build dwarfing my smaller frame. His palm covers my bloodied gloves over the doorknob as he whispers against the shell of my ear, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Shower…” My voice is low, breathy, and sounds insincere because showering is actually the last thing I want to do right now.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” He rubs his chin against the side of my head as his fingers undo the clips holding my hair. The strands fall to my back and he nuzzles his nose against it, inhaling me in. “I thought I’d lost you again, Lia.”
My eyes close, soaking in the deep, low tenor of his voice and the feel of him behind me. It’s safe and so damn familiar. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts right now, not when he’s speaking about another woman, but I’m unable to think past his presence. His touch. His words.
I’ve become addicted to him instead of alcohol. His brutal punishments and my overwhelming orgasms have become my new fix, but he took it away and that hurt more than not drinking. At least with the lack of alcohol, it was a headache. With him, my whole body has been going through withdrawal.
I’ve been starved for so long—an eternity it seems—and tonight’s events only added to my hunger.
Adrian’s lips brush against the curve of my jaw and trail down to the hollow of my throat, nibbling, sucking.
My muscles lose their rigidity from earlier and I relax into his grasp, my fingers releasing the doorknob. Adrian holds my jaw with two fingers, lifting it so he can kiss my neck, then my collarbone, before moving back to my jaw.
The blood doesn’t deter him. It’s as if it doesn’t exist.
He whirls me around and I stare up at him as my behind meets the solid surface of the door.
He stares back as he removes his jacket and follows with my coat. I’m silent, as one item of clothing follows the other, pooling around me.
Adrian threads the fingers of one hand through my hair as the other finds my zipper, undoing it in one swift move. The material slides down my arms before it joins the rest of the clothes scattered on the floor. I’m standing in nothing but a strapless bra and black lace panties.
I’m half-naked, and yet I don’t feel vulnerable, because the way Adrian watches me is heated, burning, unlike all the robotic looks he’s given me over the past couple of days.
“I’m so proud of what you did to help Yan, Lenochka,” he murmurs against my face as he hooks his fingers around the edge of my panties.
“You’re proud of me?” I grab the sides of his shirt for balance.
“I’ve always been proud of you.” He pauses. “Let’s change that tomostly.”
I want to ask if ‘mostly’ includes me or Lia, but I choose not to ruin the moment. I don’t care what he sees me as right now, because I’m the one here.
It’s not Lia.
Me.
Adrian unbuckles his belt and I stare with bated breath as he lets his pants and boxers fall to his feet. He’s always a sight to behold, something that I can’t take my eyes off of, even when my instincts tell me he’s dangerous.
Despite that danger, or more likebecauseof it, I’ve been caught in his orbit with no way of escaping.
