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Lips thinning as he went to his knees, Morozov’s pale brown eyes narrowed. He considered Devin for a long moment, taking in her frantic movements and the resounding shriek that wouldn’t stop. A single terse nod, and then he loosed a devastating assault.
Devin’s cry stuttered. Faded into a pathetic squeak. Limbs loose, joints watery, she collapsed back into the rusty metal. He crowded close, the heat of him all along her side as he pushed the commanding purr into her. It laid waste to her senses, slashing through her last reserves. Reverberating through her every cell, it wrestled Devin into submission in a way she’d never experienced.
It shouldn’t be possible. Not with her bond with Rey. Yet she couldn’t deny the effect he had upon her. Devin thought Volkov far too strong for that long ago meeting within Wicked’s walls, but it seemed Morozov was even more powerful than he first appeared.
“Good girl,” Morozov said through the powerful rockslide of his purr, stabbing the needle deep into Devin’s thigh as she blinked at him in bewilderment. He smiled, stroking her cheek with his knuckles as he edged closer. Letting Devin feel every inch of him while he slipped his fingers to her nape and rubbed at the knotted muscles.
“No…”
“Yes, little one. All will be well.”
“I don’t want this,” Devin whispered.
“You will.” Morozov nuzzled her temple. “Soon, you will want it very much.”
His words echoed through Devin’s thoughts, hammering away at her resolve as liquid fire coursed through her veins. No amount of thrashing against the knotted ropes or screaming would make it stop. Every cell bursting into flame, each ragged inhalation a wave of heat as the hormones worked through her.
She wanted to die.
Nothing but the vile blackness of his purr staunched the flood of agony, the evil reverberation digging its claws deeper into her ravaged flesh each time he wielded it. A fact he realized, and something he withheld to punish her.
First for biting the guard’s face when he attempted to untie her after she pleaded for a bathroom. Again, for spitting out the water and food he so graciously offered. Each time she snarled and snapped her teeth at him, he let her suffering go on unceasing for eons.
Now he watched her from feet away, the warm bronze of his eyes travelling over her body. She felt it like a coarse hand, touching her in places he had no right to.
“This is taking too long,” Giacomo snarled from the doorway where he’d been banished after daring to touch her. His lip still dripped blood from where Morozov punched him, white shirt no longer crisp as crimson droplets stained it.
“She is strong,” Morozov murmured, lips tipping up at the corners. A fire blazed in his eyes to match the one scorching her skin. “You do not need to stay.”
“He’s going to kill you,” Devin spat, wrenching the thick bonds holding her arms. “Fucking rip you open and bathe in your blood, you bastard!”
“You don’t get to play with her in my warehouse.” Giacomo took a handful of steps forward, nostrils flaring as his head tipped up to scent the air. “Either give her another shot and get it over with, or I’ll do it my damn self.”
“Come any closer and I’ll show her exactly what that looks like. She seems to enjoy violence,da? Maybe she’d like me to take her in a pool of your blood.”
Devin couldn’t stop the shudder that racked her body, or the way her eyes widened. Her nostrils flared, sucking down a sharp breath laden with slick and the scent of violence.
Giacomo stalled, furrows etching their way across his forehead before he retreated to the open door once again. Fists tugging at the ripped lapels of his jacket, he tried on a commanding air from the safety of an easy escape.
“If he finds you here—”
“He won’t.” Morozov drifted closer to Devin, letting her see the full expansion of his chest as he took a deep breath. Taking in the sugary sweetness of her scent, watching the fitful tensing of her thighs as Devin struggled against the primal urge.
“Yes, he fucking will!” She was losing the battle, though. The heady musk of a powerful Alpha tainted with smoky darkness invaded her every breath. Her gaze was continually drawn to the long girth straining the fine weave of fabric where his scent was most potent. The wet stain of his arousal lured her in with frantic twitches of her nose.
Morozov’s finger swept over her lips before she even realized it was there, taken away before her teeth could find flesh. Her tongue darted out, tasting the dampness there long before the action registered.
He was the depths of winter and shadowed forests. Something rich and enticing beneath the suffocating layers of violence.
Devin groaned and shook her head hard. Screaming again, she tried to work free of the bonds that tightened down to strangle her with every jerky tug. She didn’t want this. Wanted Rey, the earthy richness of his scent, the always surprising hint of sweet tartness. The golden shimmer of warmth that blanketed her in safety.
Instead, she got the malevolent purr.
“Stop,” she pleaded, going rag doll slack. “It hurts so much, please stop.”
“Give in to it, little one,” Morozov husked against her ear, curling around her as he gave Devin the full force of the overwhelming vibration. “Stop fighting and it will stop hurting.”
“No.” Devin tried to growl at him, to voice the pure depths of her hatred, but it all came out in a pathetic whimper.
