Ruthless Doms Boxset

by Jane Henry

  And I need to trust him now.

  This growing... something between us... can't be. We both know this.

  My father holds the keys to Nicolai's future. There is no escape from Bratva life, only promotion, earned in ways I choose to ignore.

  I'm suddenly so tired, my eyes feel too heavy to keep open. I exit the bathroom to see he's folded down the sheets on the bed, and my heart does a funny little dance in my chest.

  And aw, hell.

  He's stripped to his t-shirt, the crinkled fabric that worked as my makeshift gag stretched across the muscled planes of his perfect body.

  "Sleep," he orders, pointing to the bed, and a lump rises in my throat. I don't want to sleep. I want to crawl up on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck and burrow deep into that strong, powerful chest of his.

  And I want to kiss him so badly my mouth goes dry at the very thought. Just one kiss, and I can rest.

  "Where are you going to sleep?" I ask, not bothering to mask the concern in my voice.

  He shrugs a shoulder. "You let me worry about me." His voice hardens. "Get in bed."

  "Nicolai, you can't just—"

  He anchors his hands on his hips and raises one stern, formidable brow. My heartbeat races in my chest and my knees feel a little wobbly. "Excuse me?"

  Okay, yeah, the spanking he gave me clearly had an effect on me, for even though he's lectured me before, this time is different. This time, my ass still throbs from the punishment I suffered at his hand. This time, instinct kicks in.

  My heart still hammering in my chest in warning, I quickly move to obey. I swear a corner of his lips quirks up, but when I look in surprise at him to confirm my suspicion, he's only stern once more.

  "Should I... um... I have nothing to wear..." I kinda do want to strip. I want to affect that chiseled, statuesque face of his. I want to break down his resolve.

  Tempt him, as it were.

  I climb between the sheets in my clothes. Gross.

  "Sleep in your dress for now," he says. "If we need to move quickly, I want you fully clothed." But his voice is weirdly choked. I look at him in confusion, then pull the blankets up. It feels weird, not being in my pajamas or even brushing my teeth, but I'm so tired, even this dismal excuse for a mattress makes me yawn widely. His biceps bulge when he crosses his arms on his chest. Just watching that fabric stretch over his skin, and the tattoos that snake up and down both arms…

  "Are you just going to stand there all night? Standing sentry by my bedside?" I ask, pretending the mere sight of him doesn't turn me on.

  He grunts in reply and crosses his arms on his chest.

  "Nicolai," I say softly. Pleading, even. "It's okay to sleep on the other side of the bed. I... I won't move or touch you or anything." As I stammer, I feel heat suffusing my cheeks again.

  "Go to sleep, Marissa," he says in a clipped, stern tone. I close my mouth and watch as he checks the window, then prowls the room, making sure we're safe. That no one's come to accost us or take us by surprise.

  Despite the fact that my body's on fire and my mind spirals from one thing to the next in random, haphazard swirls and loops, I'm tired.

  This place is creepy as fuck, though. I'm not used to hotels like this. Is anybody? I haven't traveled much, but when I've gone on trips with my father, we stay in luxury hotels with soft, silky sheets, ample space, and pillows so soft it's like sleeping on a cloud. This is such a far cry from the luxury I'm accustomed to, it isn't even funny.

  I'm tired. So tired. I close my eyes, and allow myself to rest in the knowledge that he is here to protect me.

  He wouldn't just take me for no good reason. He would never take advantage of me. I know he wouldn't.

  He wouldn't.

  Just as I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep I hear a door open on the other side of the wall. Someone's coming into the room next to us. My eyes fly open, but Nicolai just stands, arms still crossed over his chest. I hear a high-pitched giggle and the sound of a man's growl, then the bed squeaks. I stifle a groan. We can hear everything.

  Muffled conversation, the jingle of a belt buckle, soon followed by lewd moans and groans and suckles.

  Oh, God. The people in the next room are going at it hot and heavy and I can't hide from this. We're going to hear everything. Together. It's like someone's playing cheap porno flicks on a widescreen TV in a continual loop.

  I want to die.

  Every creak of the mattress, every moan of delight, they're going at it like rabbits and I can practically see them. With a groan, I pull the covers up right over my head, and I swear this time I actually do hear Nicolai laugh, but I don't remove the covers to confirm. My body heats with the knowledge that all six foot two of muscled, raw, Russian alpha male complete with formidable shaved head and tattoos galore stands on the other side of these covers. Hearing the groans of pleasure. As submerged in this lewd slice of carnal indulgence as I am.

  The man who just kidnapped me and spanked me.

  "Go to sleep, Marissa," he repeats, though this time the command is less harsh.

  "I'm trying," I tell him, and thank God the horny little couple next door doesn't last long, as soon the sounds fade and I hear the unmistakable sound of a cigarette lighter, followed by the scent of cigarettes.

  And then I wonder... if I can hear the people next door so clearly, did anyone hear what he did to me? Did anyone hear him punish me? I would absolutely die. These people next door weren't in yet, but there are other rooms on this floor.

  Great.

  It's hot under here and I'm sweating bullets, so I take the blanket off my head, and accidentally catch Nicolai's eye. He actually looks amused. Though his lips are pulled tight, his eyes twinkle in a way that's rare for him.

  "Sounds like they're done for now," he says, with obvious disdain. The smirk on his face leads me to believe he's not so impressed with our neighbors' stamina.

  "You could do better?" I blurt out before I can stop myself. His eyes widen in surprise before he actually smiles at me.

  Aw, hell. Did I just say that?

  "Fuck yes I could do better," he says with a laugh. "I lasted longer as a seventeen-year-old boy."

  He laughed.

  I've never seen him laugh before, and it warms something deep inside me. And then my mind's on Nicolai and... um, lasting... and I imagine what it would be like to be beneath him while he straddles me from above.

  I close my eyes, feigning exhaustion, but I'm really just trying to get my shit together.

  "Marissa, get some sleep before our neighbors get a show of their own."

  I feel my jaw literally drop. Did he just say—did he mean—no way did he—

  But he shakes his head at me. "I mean a repeat of what happened earlier, little girl, and nothing more. Now sleep."

  I close my eyes so I don't have to look at him again, and also to hide the way I am literally dying of embarrassment. I can't believe he thought that I thought he wanted to fuck me, or was threatening to fuck me, or—oh God I have no idea.

  It takes me a long time to settle. I hear him walk about the room a few times but then he's quiet. I feel him standing over me. Watching. Protecting. And I settle in the knowledge that I'm safe with him.

  Finally, after what seems like hours, I fall to sleep.

  When I wake the next morning, I can't remember where I am at first. I look all around me, but I don't recognize anything, and quickly, panic overtakes me at the unfamiliar curtains, bedside table, and bedding. I blink at the vibrant red numbers on the alarm clock on the bedside table. 5:00.

  I sit up in bed.

  Then I remember.

  I remember everything.

  "What is it?" Nicolai is slouched over on the crappy little armchair across the room, rubbing his eyes, and he looks like he hardly slept at all.

  I blink again, and look around the room. I finally release a breath I didn't know I held. "Nothing," I tell him, shaking my head. "It was nothing."

  "Did you see something?" he
asks, getting to his feet. "Hear something?"

  "No," I tell him truthfully, lifting the covers off and swinging my legs out of bed. "I just thought for a minute I was home, and it freaked me out when I wasn't." I get to my feet, and don't meet his eyes. It's awkward, standing here like this in my rumpled dress and messy hair, like I just spent the night at his place, and it couldn't be further from the truth.

  "Did you get any sleep at all?" I ask him, but he ignores me and pushing himself to standing.

  "Go use the bathroom," he says, not answering my question.

  "I don't need to." Jesus, will he order me to swallow and blink next?

  "Didn't ask you," he says. "Do what you have to, since you'll have limited access to the facilities for a while."

  I spin around to look at him. "And why is that?" Will he tell me anything?

  "Because the bastards who want you won't stop until they have you, and we're not planting roots anywhere."

  "Fine. Got it, boss," I say, pretending to salute him. I walk past him to go to the bathroom, but gasp when his palm smacks into my ass and I stumble a little.

  "Hey!" I yell over my shoulder. I won't look at him. I don't want him to see the way my cheeks flame with embarrassment, so I pretend I'm not as affected as I really am.

  "Hey yourself," he repeats, scolding me. “Behave.”

  "Is this going to be like a new thing with you?" I snap, racing to the bathroom so he can't smack my ass again.

  "Depends," he says, as I step into the bathroom. "If I made myself clear enough last night or not."

  I shut the door and press my back against the cool wood, my mouth forming a little "o" I can see in the mirror directly across from where I stand. My eyes are wide and vibrant, my cheeks pink, and I'm breathing heavily.

  For years, Nicolai has been the stern, foreboding bodyguard with zero sense of humor. Now, he's... something else. And I don't know how I feel about this. Now that he's stopped censoring every word that comes out of his mouth, every move that he makes, things are radically different.

  I don't take much time getting ready, as I still have hardly any toiletries. I'd give anything for some arctic mint toothpaste, my cleanser, a clean pair of panties, and my razor.

  I wonder what he did with my phone. I feel weird without it, like a part of me is missing. I check my messages first thing in the morning when I wake up, and I wonder who's trying to reach me. I also wonder where we're going next.

  After I use the bathroom, I return to find him holding his wallet and keys, but he's stripped his t-shirt off.

  Oh.

  Oh God.

  I find myself staring open-mouthed at the expanse of his chest. Yesterday was the first time I'd seen him bare-chested. It's shocking to me, somehow, to be so close to his bare skin. He walks in the bathroom after me, but leaves the door open. I surreptitiously sneak glances at him as he makes good use of a washcloth and the slim bar of soap.

  There were 500 people in my graduating class in high school and not one of those boys looked like him.

  "I take it we're not ordering room service?"

  "Room service? Does this look like a place that would have room service?"

  I feel my cheeks color. "Guess not. And we're packing light," I mutter.

  "Hell yes." He leads me to the door and just in time, since it sounds like our neighbors are ready for a little round two, and if I have to hear those two going at it again—

  But shit, it's louder in the hall than in the room.

  "Bets on how long he lasts this time," I mutter under my breath. We push the button for the elevator and when it arrives, he holds the door open for me with an arm up, gesturing for me to go inside. But the second the door closes, he's in my space, standing right up next to me, a knuckle under my chin. Holding my gaze to his.

  "Listen to me," he says. "When we get out there you will do exactly what I say. Speak to no one. Eye contact with no one. You keep your eyes and head down at all times. If I tell you anything, you do it immediately and without question. Understood?"

  "Yeah," I breathe, feeling shy in his immediate presence like this. My voice feels smaller. Hell, everything feels smaller.

  In the hotel room, I could convince myself for a little while that he wasn't evil. That he didn't have a hidden agenda.

  Still, it's hard pretending I'm some sort of prisoner. It's Nicolai after all.

  But when I think about the way he gagged me... the way he pushed me over the desk and spanked me... it's a little easier to keep my mouth closed and not give him an attitude.

  He quickly checks out at the main desk. It's still dark out, the sky behind the windows around us showing the faintest gleam of morning. I draw closer to him without thinking why or how. I can't shake the eerie, unsettling feeling that someone is watching me. That someone is watching us.

  And when the clerk hands him the invoice, I glance at the date.

  My heart sinks, and I sigh when realization hits me.

  It's my damn birthday.

  Chapter 5

  Nicolai

  It's still early in the morning, and the sun is just barely rising when we hit the road.

  I feel that someone is watching us, but every time I glance in the rearview mirror, we're practically alone, except for the tractor trailers making their deliveries. Still, my skin prickles with vivid awareness any time a smaller car comes on the highway, and the chance of one of the truck drivers being in pursuit of us are slim and none.

  My GPS says we'll be in Raleigh soon. We'll get something to eat there, before we head straight for Virginia. I plot out our trip in my mind, driving from Virginia to Boston, with stops if necessary in D.C., New York, or New Haven, Connecticut. I'd prefer not to stop if we can help it, but we're going to have to eat and take breaks.

  Is she asleep? Marissa is curled up in a ball, her head resting on her arm on the door, but her face is turned away from me so I can't see her.

  "You okay?" I finally ask, after silent minutes tick by into silent hours.

  "Fine," she says right away. Not asleep, then.

  "Hungry?"

  "Yeah."

  I frown, and glance up at the road signs as we drive on.

  "I'll stop soon to get us something to eat."

  "Great."

  "Radio?"

  She only shrugs.

  I don't ask her anything else. Either she's resigned herself to the fact that I've taken her against her will, or she's fuming and plotting to escape. Either way, I don't like her silence one bit. Earlier, she was still positive, still had a little sense of humor. But now...

  "What's gotten under your skin?" I ask her.

  "Besides the fact that you kidnapped me, spanked me, and I spent the night on the run sleeping in my dress from the night before? Oh, nothing. Why do you ask?"

  I clench my jaw and hold the steering wheel tighter. I don't like where this is going.

  "Yes, besides that," I push. There's something else going on, and I'll get to the bottom of it.

  "Maybe I'm hangry," she suggests.

  "Hangry? You mean hungry?"

  "No, I mean hangry. It's a new word. Not familiar?"

  I speak through gritted teeth. "Clearly not."

  "Hangry is the state of irritability caused by hunger. Angry plus hungry equals hangry."

  "So feeding you will restore you, then?"

  "Just like a horse or something," she quips. "Water and feed me and I'll be good."

  "More like a toddler," I reason. "Food, milk, naps, repeat."

  She snorts. "Gee, thanks."

  "Anytime."

  Still, I pull off at the next rest stop that offers donuts and coffee.

  "Tell me what you want." I don't want to get out of this car, so drive thru it is.

  "Two chocolate-covered donuts, and an iced coffee, please," she says. "And a chocolate milk if they have it."

  Chocolate milk? Khristos, she's so damn young.

  "Coloring book if they have it?"

  She only nar
rows her eyes on me. Right. I need to feed her.

  I get an egg sandwich and a coffee and her food.

  "Yippee-yi-yay," she mutters.

  "A thank you would be appropriate," I remind her. Her attitude's getting old. She has good reason to be pissy, but it still grates.

  "Thank you," she says with mock politeness. "You are ever so kind, sir."

  I hand her the bag of food.

  "Eat," I tell her.

  "It's like I'm a dog," she says. "Eat. Sleep. Use the bathroom. Next thing you'll be telling me to heel."

  She's so damn snarky and woefully innocent.

  How I'd love to motherfucking take her to heel.

  "Eat, don't eat, do whatever the fuck you want, just don't get sassy with me."

  She sighs. "Fine. I have to go to the bathroom, though." She looks a little apologetic. "May I?"

  I grunt and don't reply at first. I do not want to linger here. I want to hit the fucking road, but we need to be situated first.

  The donut shop has a tiny bathroom way at the back. A handful of older men are drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, and one young woman serving everyone. I shouldn't leave her alone in here. Fuck, anyone could walk in and take advantage. But that isn't my problem. The girl in the bathroom is.

  I stand right outside the door and in a few minutes, she comes out.

  "Can you grab some bottled water, too?" she asks.

  I stifle a groan. Sure, might as well play the lottery, grab some cigarettes, and maybe watch the ballgame before we drive again. The line's grown a bit, but I wait to buy water, and she wanders over to a rack with newspapers and magazines. I beckon her over, but she doesn't see me.

  "Marissa." She doesn't hear me, and the line moves so I step closer to the register. I don't like that she's out of arm's reach now, and call her name again.

  A young man ambles into the shop obviously plastered when I'm next in line. I watch him stumble over to her and say something to her. She fidgets nervously and darts her eyes to me, and I gesture for her to get the fuck over here, but the man says something to her and gets her attention again. Her jaw drops, and the cashier raises her voice to me.

  "Excuse me. Sir? I said, 'Can I help you?'"

  I turn angrily toward her. I'm gonna spank Marissa's little ass for not getting over here next to me.