Darkness. Warmth and a strange pull.
I opened my eyes slowly trying to force out the haze of sleep clinging to my mind, wrapping me in a fog that made it hard to tell where I was or why everything felt so off. The sheets beneath me were warm, soft, and unfamiliar in a way that sent a jolt of confusion through me.
For a second, I couldn't breathe. My chest felt tight like someone was pressing down on me, keeping me pinned in place. I shifted slightly, trying to sit up when I felt it-an arm draped over my waist, heavy and possessive and fingers splayed against my bare skin beneath my shirt.
Everything rushed back in a wave that nearly knocked the air from my lungs. Judas.
Oh heavens…
Panic surged through me like ice in my veins. My body went rigid and my heart hammered so loudly it filled my ears. His arm was still there, holding me close, his skin warm against mine. My breath hitched as I tried to pull away, to free myself, but the movement only caused his grip to tighten, the rough skin of his hand pressing harder against my side.
I bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood, trying to suppress the terror rising inside me. My mind screamed at me to run, to get away, but my body wouldn't cooperate. I barely moved an inch before I heard him stir behind me, and felt the slow, deliberate shift of his weight as he groaned low in his throat.
"Stay still." His voice was thick with sleep, the command heavy and unquestionable, slurred but clear.
I froze, my breath catching painfully in my chest. His body shifted behind me, his arm tightening around my waist, pulling me closer. I could feel the heat of him, the hard planes of his chest pressing against my back, his breath warm against the nape of my neck. The closeness was suffocating, overwhelming, every nerve in my body screaming to get away from him.
But I couldn't move. Not without making it worse.
Did I sleep in the same bed as him? My mind raced, the events of last night a blur. The gun, his hands, and the way he had toyed with me, dominated me with nothing more than his touch. I had fallen asleep-or passed out-from sheer exhaustion, and now here I was, trapped again. Under him. Inside his grip.
His fingers shifted, sliding over my skin in a way that made my stomach clench, panic clawing at me. The heat of his palm burned into my side, the slow, lazy stroke of his thumb against my skin sending unwanted shivers through me. I wanted to scream, to fight, but instead, I lay there, frozen beneath his touch, my body betraying me again.
I had to get out. I had to move.
My skin was all warm and flushed. Strange for the coldness that marred Russian streets. Lord help me, cause everything about this situation was catastrophic.
I shifted. His grip tightened. Fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hip, holding me in place with a force that left no room for struggle. I bit back a whimper.
The way his body pressed against mine, the way his breath fanned over my skin-it made me feel trapped, but also something far worse. Captivated.
He was so close, and despite everything, despite the terror and revulsion, I could feel the pull of him. That twisted allure, the darkness he carried like a shroud, the way his presence overwhelmed everything around him. It drew me in, even though I knew it would destroy me.
Damn him and his infuriating presence.
A person like him had no right to be this warm.
I could feel him-all of him-pressing into me, and with a slight movement, his body became heavier.
I stilled sensing his warm breath against my nape, and I tasted his scent in my mouth.
His hand slid up, brushing higher against my ribs, inching toward my breast slowly making me hold my breath. What… what was he doing? I had no control over my heartbeat, panic and something else warring inside me as I felt his touch inch closer. I squeezed my eyes shut, teeth sinking into my bottom lip, desperate to hold in the whimper that threatened to escape.
His breath was hot against the back of my neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin there in a way that sent a shiver racing down my spine. "I told you to stay still," he murmured, voice low, rough with sleep but laced with that familiar, dark edge of control.
I bit back a shaking sigh.
And I sneakily tried to struggle under him only for him to tighten his hold and shift his leg on mine trapping me.
"Don't fight me, ptichka," he growled this time with his harsh breath against my ear whispering promises of ruin.
His grip was bruising now.
I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. His arm tightened further, and the rough fabric of his shirt scrapped against my skin as his fingers slid dangerously low, just brushing the waistband of my pants. The heat of him, the weight of him, was too much, overwhelming every thought, every instinct. It was too early for him to be a pervert.
And my eyes widened the moment I felt his morning hardness pressed against me. A wave of panic surged through me. My breath hitched, my body stiffening as I tried to move again, but his grip only tightened further, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered, "Move one more time and I'll make sure you do not leave this bed for weeks."
His hand reached under my pants and his fingers pushed the waistband of my panties aside, while his breath fanned across the back of my neck.
"Judas..." I trembled.
He didn't respond at first, didn't even acknowledge I'd spoken. His thumb continued its maddening stroke against my clitoris, slowly and deliberately, as though my words had no bearing on him. As if I wasn't even there.
"Please…" I hated the way my voice cracked, hated that I sounded weak, desperate. But I was desperate-desperate to escape, desperate for some semblance of control, desperate for him to stop. "I… I can't-"
"Why can't you be a good little girl for me, huh?" He snapped coldly. "You seem to forget your end of the deal. Let me remind you."
I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic taste of blood flooding my mouth as I fought back the involuntary moan that wanted to escape. "Why are you doing this? Why me?"
His fingers paused for a moment, and I felt the shift of his weight behind me as he tilted his head, considering my question, but the silence stretched out so long that I wasn't sure if he'd answer at all.
Then, finally, his detached voice came. "Why not you?"
I watched as he towered over me.
His words hit me like ice. Why not me? With his looks, he could've had any woman he wanted willingly.
I swallowed, forcing myself to speak again. "You… you don't have to do this. I-" I struggled to find the right words, words that might break through that apathy, that might reach whatever shred of humanity was left inside him. "I'm begging you, please. Just… let me go. I will forgive you… forget this ever happened, go back to my family and never cross paths with you-"
His fingers dug into my clit as I bit back a scream.
His grip tightened, and I could see the sick pleasure flicker in his eyes as he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "You think you can bargain with me, ptichka? You think forgiveness is something I crave? Fuck forgiveness. Fuck your hollow promises. You think I want to be forgotten?" Pale blue eyes glimmered psychotically. "No. No, you don't get to forget me. You don't get to erase me like some bad fucking dream you wake up from. I will etch myself into you, deep. Burn you from the inside out until my name is all that echoes in your pretty little head."
He rammed his fingers inside me ripping a loud groan from me. "You say you'll go back to your family, huh? What, to that pathetic little life you had before you met me? It doesn't exist anymore, not for you. You belong to me now, you fucking understand that? Every breath you take, every thought that slithers through your mind, me. There is no going back, no running, no forgetting. The moment I fucked you, I owned you."
He laughed softly, darkly licking my cheeks and making me squirm. "You'll beg for more before this is over, ptichka. And when you do, remember this moment, when you thought you could ever escape me. Because I'll always be inside you, no matter how far you run. And if you even think of crossing me... well, you know how much I hate traitors." His eyes gleamed with a sadistic light as he whispered, "You'll burn for me, and you'll love every second of it."