Thief (Boston Underworld #5)(31)

“Stop it!” I scream.

Nikolai is the one to turn and look at me. His eyes lance right through me, piercing me with blame.

“Come.” Nonna tugs on my arm, and I’m not even sure when she entered the room. “Leave the men to their business.”





Any hope that a hot shower would dissolve some of the tension in my body is lost when I climb beneath the sheets. My muscles are fatigued, my eyes are heavy, and soreness has taken a stronghold over me.

The house is quiet now, and I’m left to wonder how the evening ended. It should make little difference to me, but I’m curious how Nikolai fared in the gladiator sports downstairs. Reason dictates I care only because he’s my captor and he’s in charge of my fate. But if I’m honest with myself, I know it’s more complicated than that.

I’m not left to wonder for long. When I’m on the verge of sleep, the bedroom door thunders open, and Nikolai emerges from the shadows. The light from the hallway creates a halo of orange around him, illuminating a swollen jaw and blackened eye. But it isn’t his face I’m worried about.

When I meet his gaze, an edgy, twitchy feeling crawls over me. I need to get away. Far, far away.

He stalks toward the bed, and I scramble to the other side. I’ve got one foot on the floor when his arm comes around my waist and captures me from behind. His lips ghost over my ear, breathing fire into my skin.

“Where are you going, little doll?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, desperately seeking shelter from the storm in his. The strength I need to endure has abandoned me, and I won’t survive him this time. He’s going to wreck me.

He drags me back to the middle of the bed, immobilizing me with the weight of his body. His skin is feverish, and his breath is laced with whiskey. But it’s the tension rippling through his muscles that scares me the most.

“Perhaps you would rather go home with my brother. Is that it, pet?”

“No,” I whisper.

“You spent the evening flirting with him.” His booming voice vibrates against my chest. “So why shouldn’t I send you home with him?”

“Please.” I cling to his arms. “That isn’t what I want.”

“Guess what, kitten?” His words blow over my throat. “I don’t care what you want.”

A tear falls down my cheek, and Nikolai collects it with his tongue. His fingers take ownership of my face, and he forces intimacy by staring into my eyes.

“Tell me that you want me.”

“No.” It’s a faint protest, drowned out by his mouth crashing into mine. The first thing I taste is his blood, and the second is his whiskey.

My first kiss. He’s taken my first kiss. The shock anchors me to the bed, rendering me a prisoner to his lips. Swollen and rough, fiery and insatiable. He has the will of a fighter and the artistry of a lover. Right now, he’s both. And I’m a slave to my weakness. A slave to him. He squeezes my jaw open, and his tongue clashes with mine. It’s intimate. It’s a violation. Yet I thirst for it.

“You are my angel,” he murmurs. “And if I want, my whore too.”

My body arches against him, and my fingers tangle in his hair, wishing for the strength I don’t possess. “I hate you.”

“I think you wish that you did.” He forces his leg between my thighs.

I’m not wearing any panties, and my nightdress has migrated up over my hips during the struggle. A flush sweeps up the back of my neck and over my face as I endeavor to put myself back together again. The thought of him seeing me spread open is terrifying. Humiliating. But Nikolai doesn’t care about my modesty.

His lips are lazing over my throat now, his angry cock straining against his trousers. I’m supposed to remain pure. There was a reason, I’m certain, but I can’t think of it now. Not when he’s pawing at me, licking and biting and kissing my flesh. My nails sink into the rigid angles of his back, searching for my sanity. My breath comes in waves as I wonder if this is it. If this will be my damnation. His mouth reaches the swells of my breasts, and I stop breathing altogether.

“Fuck these tits,” he grunts as he squeezes them together between his fleshy palms. “Fuck you and your pretty little tits.”

The lashing of his tongue softens the harshness of his words when he lowers his head to suck my nipples through the silky fabric. A thousand jolts of lightning arc through me. I don’t want to want him, but he is manipulating me with his touch, his sounds, and the drugging scent of his body.

The same way he manipulated all the other women before me.

“Nikolai.” I shove him. “We can’t. I can’t. You were with her. You chose her.”

My protests stall when his fingers move between my legs and drag against my bare sex. The place no man has ever touched before. The place only my husband is supposed to touch. Logically, I know this, but I’m so wet for him that it doesn’t matter what my mind knows is best for me. My body doesn’t want what’s best for me. My body wants to lay down and sacrifice for him.

“You are mine to play with.” He pulls down the nightdress and kisses each of my breasts. “Mine to toy with. And fuck. And use. And degrade. You belong to me now, zvezda, and I’m going to let you know it.”

My head rattles against the pillow, but my protests have dried up. He’s right, and I know he’s right. He can do anything he wants to me.