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He appears amused, his sour mood all but vanishing. “Actually, yes.”
“No.”
He raises a brow. “Excuse me?”
“It must be difficult for you to understand the word. Don’t worry. I get it.” I infuse my tone with mock sympathy. “I suppose not many women tell you no.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Not many, no.”
“If you’re going to keep me prisoner and I’m to live in your space, we need to lay down some rules.” I jab him in the chest to emphasize the part about the rules.
He grabs my finger and moves it away. “Rules, huh?”
“Are you listening?”
“You’re cute when you’re trying to be bossy.”
“I’m serious, Yan. If we’re to survive under one roof without killing each other, we both need to compromise.”
Holding my hand, he walks me backward. “Are you proposing a relationship? Because that’s what it sounds like.”
“I’m proposing getting along.” My back hits the wall. “Or do you prefer we fight all the time?”
He cages me between his arms. “I’m curious. What would such compromises entail?”
“You and Ilya, I’m sick of your fighting.”
“You don’t have a say, remember?”
“I’m my own person. You can’t tell me what to do.”
He bends his head down to mine. “Is that so?”
“You might’ve taken over my life, but you have to give me a small measure of freedom in the mundane decisions.”
His voice is low, seductive. “Such as?”
“Such as when to have a shower.”
“This is about a shower,” he says with disbelief.
“This is about…” Making the most of whatever time I have left. But I don’t say it. I can’t. Instead, I stare up at him silently, defiant.
“You asked me if I’m listening.” He rolls his hips forward, pressing his erection against my stomach. “Now that I am, you don’t know what you want to say?”
I flatten myself against the wall, but the spark is already there, my senses waking to the dark magic of his touch. “Just don’t treat me like an animal, like I have no say over my body. I’m a grown woman. I think I know when I need to shower or eat. When you order me around like that, it’s humiliating.”
“An animal. Humiliating.” He nuzzles my neck. “You believe you have any power to negotiate?” His breath is warm on my ear. “You think you can say no to me?”
“Yes.” My tone is firm despite the pleasurable chills rippling down my arm. “Give me this, and I’ll give you what you want.”
He pushes his hand under the elastic of my sweatpants and underwear, resting his fingers on my sex. “What is it you believe I want?”
My breath catches when he parts my folds with a finger. I try not to show him what he does to me, but it’s hard to keep my voice even. “To get on. To live in peace.”
He watches my eyes as he curls the digit, dipping it inside. I grab his wrist to push his hand away, but he’s stronger. He doesn’t let me. Instead, he pushes the length of his finger inside. My body clenches around him, my arousal spiking. I’m breathing too fast, feeling too much.
“No, princess. You’re wrong,” he says, studying my face as he starts moving his finger. “I want everything.”
The starkness of the confession makes my knees weak. What was I thinking? I should’ve known with Yan there could never be give and take.
The pleasure climbs as he pushes the pad of this thumb on my clit, massaging in circles. The sensations hit me hard and fast. Instead of trying to push him away, I’m clinging to him.
“Are you really going to say no to me, Minochka?” he asks gently, his gem-green eyes already bright with his victory.
We both know it’s a foregone conclusion. I’m so close.
He brushes his lips over mine. The kiss is feather soft, deceivingly caring. “Answer me.”
I want this. I want him. Despite everything, I, too, want it all. And maybe in a different life, I could’ve had it. If I hadn’t taken the Henderson job when Gergo recommended me. If my body wasn’t as messed up as it is. But this is how it is now, and nothing can be done about it.
“Tell me,” he insists, deepening the kiss.
“Yes,” I say into his mouth. The word is a sigh. It’s surrender. In the bigger scheme of things, time is too short. “Yes.”
He picks me up and carries me to the bed. Laying me down gently, he kisses me until I feel dizzy, then undresses me slowly, caressing every part of my body as he does. His gaze is reverent as he watches the path of his hands where they slide over my breasts and down to my stomach, his fingers tracing my belly ring. I want to feel him against me. I need the warmth of his skin. I yank up his shirt, not bothering with the buttons. He lifts his arms to aid me, gets tangled in the sleeves, and finishes the task himself. His shoes, socks, and pants follow.
