by Zoe Blake
Ivan held up his finger to the police. “One moment.” He pulled out his cell phone.
What the hell was he doing?
He was going to get me arrested. I was going to be thrown in jail for attempted murder. Great, not only had I become just like my crappy family, which I had been trying to avoid my entire life, but I’d also actually exceeded them by landing myself a freaking felony charge.
The police officers watched in almost amused curiosity as Ivan dialed a number. No one seemed to care about Oliver’s whimpers for help. Ivan spoke rapidly in Russian before handing the phone to the first officer.
With a furrowed brow, the officer took the phone. “Hello?” He shifted his stance as the person on the other end of the line must have answered. “Good evening, Mr. Kosgov. Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. We had no idea he was a friend of yours. Yes, sir. We’ll take care of it.” The officer handed the phone back to Ivan. “You’re free to go, Mr. Morozov.”
Not showing the least bit of surprise the police were brushed off so easily, Ivan pulled me forward and placed a possessive arm around my waist. He nodded to the officers and uttered a curt, “Thank you,” as he led me to the exit. Before he opened the door, he scowled down at me. “Where is your coat?”
“I didn’t bring one with me.”
Ivan cursed under his breath as he took off his overcoat. “I have already made myself clear on this point, Dylan. I don’t want you running around in the middle of winter without a coat on.”
“Are you serious?” I raised my arm and gestured toward Oliver. “You just literally skewered a man’s hand to a table after breaking his nose and you’re going to lecture me about a freaking coat?”
“That is different.”
“How?”
“He touched you. I already warned you. No one touches what’s mine.” He draped his coat over my shoulders.
I refused to acknowledge how warm and cozy it felt. “And I’ve told you, I’m not yours. How did you find me, anyway?”
He did not answer as he once again put his hand on my lower back and marched me out of the restaurant toward his waiting car. He opened the passenger door, but I crossed my arms and refused to get in. “How did you find me?” I repeated.
“I read the texts on your phone.”
“Wait, you have my phone? You read my texts?”
Ivan shrugged. “Of course.”
“That is not okay.” I gestured wildly around me. “None of this is okay.”
“Now is not the time. We will talk about this when we get back to my hotel room.”
His hotel room? I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze up. “You will either ride in the passenger seat or in the trunk, but either way you’re coming with me.”
My eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Chapter 12
Dylan
Do car trunks run out of oxygen?
I banged on the trunk lid several more times and screamed for help. None came.
Next, I tried to kick out the taillight. It looked way easier on television. All I succeeded in doing was breaking the heel on one of my favorite black pumps. I pressed my palm to the center of my chest and tried to slow my breathing. The trunk reeked of rubber and that astringent chemical new car smell, which made it feel even more claustrophobic and warm.
With no phone and no one answering my cries for help, I was completely at Ivan’s mercy. He had only been driving for less than maybe ten minutes, but for all I knew we were on our way to Wisconsin or the airport even. He could take me back to Russia with him. Oh, God! What if he was actually taking me to Russia? I would be completely screwed.
Even if I escaped, would the Russian authorities even believe me when I said I was an American citizen, with no passport to prove it? It wasn’t like they could look one up in the State Department’s database or anything. I’d barely ever left the state of Illinois, let alone the country. Wouldn’t it just figure the first time in my life I got to travel somewhere it was while being kidnapped and stuffed in the trunk of a car?
The car veered sharply to the left, then right, then left again, as if we were going around and around in tight circles. A parking garage! We must be in a parking garage. What did that mean? The airport? Weren’t parking garages notorious places for criminals to kill people? Oh, God! He was going to kill me and toss my body onto the filthy garage floor between two dusty abandoned cars.
The vehicle came to a stop. I held my breath and listened. The driver’s side door opened and closed. There was the scrape of a shoe against cement. My body tensed, waiting for the beep of his car key fob, which would signal the trunk was unlocked. The moment the trunk sprang open, I inhaled deeply, ready to scream bloody murder. I never got the chance.
Ivan snatched my arm and lifted me out of the trunk, then hoisted me over his shoulder in one move. I kicked out, losing both of my shoes. Undeterred, I screamed as I uselessly hit his back with my broken heel, which I thought I could use as a weapon. “Help! Someone please! Help me!”
Pushing the tangled hair out of my eyes, I looked around. We were on the upper level of a parking garage, but only Ivan’s car was parked here. There wasn’t another soul in sight. I twisted to look over my shoulder as he carried me past two sliding glass doors. Thick carpeting muffled his footsteps as he crossed a circular entrance up to two large black metal doors. He swiped a keycard, and they swung open, only to slam shut the moment he carried me over the threshold. We were in what looked to be a massive penthouse suite, like the kind that takes up an entire freaking floor of a hotel. So much for hoping I could plead for help from someone in the lobby. This was obviously the super-secret villain entrance for the uber rich.
Ivan tossed me onto a nearby sofa. He shrugged out of his suit coat and pulled off his tie as he crossed to the bar. Lifting the stopper from a crystal decanter, he poured himself a drink. Since it was clear and he was very Russian, it was safe to assume he was drinking vodka. As he downed the contents in one swallow and poured himself a second, I took stock of my situation.
No phone.
No shoes.
No purse. I’d left it in his trunk when he pulled me out, so no ID or money.
I glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows, which wrapped around the penthouse. Judging by the view, I was at least still in Chicago, although I had no idea at which hotel. We appeared to be alone in the suite, and clearly even if I called the police, they would not help me.
Pulling on the hem of my dress to shove it past my knees, I inhaled a deep breath and asked, “What are you going to do with me?”
Without turning around, he responded nonchalantly, “I’m going to finish my drink and then take you into the bedroom and fuck you.”
I blinked. Seriously, who the hell talked like this? “I… I… no, you’re not!”
He turned. In the soft light of the room, his eyes seemed to glow a bright cerulean blue. “You’re right.”
The knot in my stomach loosened.
He drained the glass and set it aside. Keeping his eyes trained on me, he unbuttoned his shirt. “I’ll probably fuck you here first.”
I stood and placed the sofa between us. “Listen, you have your money back. You don’t have a claim on me anymore. You had no right to interrupt my date tonight.”
I was fully aware of what a hypocritical bitch I was being, since at the time I’d appreciated his intervention. Of course, in my defense, I hadn’t realized that five minutes later he’d be throwing me in a fucking trunk like a sociopath. So, I thought I was allowed to change my mind about the situation.
He pulled his shirt free of his pants and tossed it aside. In the center of his chest was a massive tattoo of an open parachute surrounded by a pair of gold wings and some Cyrillic writing. It looked like a military insignia. Just above the tattoo laid a heavy chain with the Russian Orthodox cross.
He unbuckled his belt, and I clenched my inner thighs. My mouth went dry as I watched him
pull it free, but then toss it aside. At least I wouldn’t have to go through the indignity of another humiliating punishment. I couldn’t bear it if he whipped me with his belt again and then forced me to acknowledge how wet and aroused it made me.
“Your date was with me. You do not have my permission to meet with any man for any reason. Do you understand, malen’kaya kukla?”
My temper got the better of me. “Go to hell.”
He pounced.
He moved so swiftly I barely had time to react. In my panic, I ran deeper into the penthouse instead of toward the exit. A heavy force hit my back, propelling me against one of the massive windows. His hand wrapped around my throat from behind.
Ivan growled into my ear, “Do you see that city below?”
I looked down at the thousands of twinkling lights. The Chicago skyline looked like an inverted sky filled with stars. We were so high up the traffic-filled streets were just thin ribbons of flashing red and white.
Without waiting for my response, he continued, “There are millions of people down there and not one of them is going to prevent me from fucking you so hard I’ll bruise that sweet cunt of yours.” He licked the side of my neck, like a predator tasting its next meal. “There is no one who can save you from me.”
I swallowed, feeling the tight grip of his hand around my throat even more keenly. “You could have anyone you want. Why me?”
He unzipped the back of my dress. His knuckles brushed my spine the entire length, sending a dangerous shiver over my body. “Because it turns me on how much you fight your attraction to me. Lower your arms.”
Trapped between his body and the window, I had no choice. I lifted my palms away from the glass and lowered my arms. He pulled my simple black cocktail dress off my shoulders. It slipped over my hips and fell to the floor. He unhooked my bra. I raised my arms and pressed the lace fabric to my breasts, unwilling to be exposed.
Ivan leaned down and sank his teeth into my shoulder. Not deeply, but enough to make his point, like a stallion nipping his mare to move her into position. With a cry, I let the bra fall away. The glass was frigid against my erect nipples.
His fingers slipped under the strap of my thong. He pulled it away from my skin. I squeezed my eyes as my body stiffened, knowing what was coming. My hips jerked back, then forward as he tore the panties off me. I was so tense, I jumped when his fingers returned to caress the length of my spine.
He shifted the hand around my throat, pushing it up closer to my jaw, forcing my head against his shoulder. The rough stubble on his cheek rubbed my soft skin as he spoke. “Are you afraid of me?”
A tear slipped down my cheek. I licked my lips to moisten them before answering, “Yes.” My warm breath fogged the glass.
His hand caressed the curve of my ass, then my hip, then back up my spine in a hypnotic, agonizing circle. “The body’s response to fear is not all that different from excitement. The blood pumps hard and fast as your heart races and your breath quickens.”
His words seemed to heighten my body’s response. I could feel the blood coursing through my veins as my heart pounded in my chest, making me dizzy and breathless.
Without warning, he slapped my ass. The harsh sting radiated over my skin like a lightning strike.
His Russian accent gave his voice a dark, sinister edge. “Fear increases pain as well.”
He spanked my ass again. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as a tremor of arousal settled deep in my belly.
“And as my baby girl now knows… pain leads to excitement.” He bit my earlobe. “And pleasure.”
He pushed at my feet, forcing my legs open wider. His hand brushed my now sensitive ass as he unzipped his pants. When he pulled his cock free, he pressed its hard weight against my lower back. Its heated length was like a brand. His hand slipped between my legs to caress my pussy. I squeezed my eyes shut as a wave of humiliation washed over me. There would be no hiding that his rough handling aroused me.
He arrogantly chuckled as he pushed two fingers in deep. I hissed in pain as I was still sore from his finger fucking earlier that day. Uncaring, he thrust his fingers in and out, ruthlessly scissoring them inside of me, forcing my body to respond for him once again.
He pulled his fingers free as he fisted his cock and positioned himself between my legs. His knuckles pressed against my inner thigh.
My voice was tight with fear. “Do you at least have a condom on?”
He didn’t even hesitate to answer. “No.”
“You have to put one on!”
“I’ve never fucked a woman without one before. You’re safe.”
“It’s not just that. I’m not on birth control. I never… ever… you have to… please… you can’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. I’m going to make sure you feel every hard inch of me. There will be nothing between us. Do you understand me? Now, push your hips back.”
This was too much for my already overstimulated mind to process. So I didn’t move to obey him.
He pressed his warm body against my back as he squeezed his hand tighter around my throat. “You know what will happen if you make me ask twice.”
Rule number two.
Having no other option, with a whimper, I placed my palms on the cold glass and pushed my ass back. The heavy bulbous head of his cock pushed at my tight entrance. My body reflexively clenched as my hips pushed forward, barring him.
The stubble on his jaw brushed the top of my shoulder as he pushed my hair aside to whisper harshly against my neck, “Moya kukolka, pozhaluysta, ne zastavlyay menya prichinyat’ tebe bol’. Day mne to, chto my oba khotim.”
His lips skimmed the sensitive spot below my ear as the raw, guttural growl of his words settled like a pool of molten lava deep inside of me. I did not know what he said, but there was a harsh, lustful tone that needed no translation.
He shifted his grasp from my throat to my breast, his warm hand a startling contrast to my chilled skin. He rolled my painfully erect nipple between his fingers as he said in the same raw tone, “My little doll, please do not make me hurt you. Give to me what we both want.”
His fingers moved between my breasts to caress down my front, then splayed wide over my abdomen. He applied steady pressure till I had no choice but to shift my hips back to press into his.
“Good girl.”
He pushed his heavily engorged cock between my legs again. He thrust in. The tight muscle ring protecting my entrance stretched painfully around the wide tip, only to close around his shaft.
My sharp breaths hurt my lungs as I breathed in and out in rapid succession as panic made my heart race. There was no turning back. He was going to pierce my flesh with his massive cock, and it was going to tear me in two.
I tried one more time to plead with him. “Please, wait. I need—”
His large hands moved to grasp my hips, holding me in place. “Don’t worry, baby girl. I have what you need.”
He thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt inside of me.
I screamed.
Fuck, it was too much. He was too big. My whole body cried out in agony as his thick shaft penetrated deeper than I thought was possible. He pulled back and thrust again. My body struggled to open to his assault.
I pressed my heated cheek against the cool glass as I willingly pushed my hips back, hoping to ease the pressure and pain.
“Christ, baby girl, you’re fucking tight,” he growled as his hands tightened around my hips. Each press of his fingertips was sure to leave a mark.
As his violent thrusts settled into a deep rhythm, my body recovered from the shock, and against my wishes responded. As his thick cock filled me to my core, a gentle tension built. Each time his shaft caressed a delicate nerve ending, I jolted as if hit by an electric charge.
The millions of tiny city lights swam before my eyes. In the far, dark distance, the rough waves of Lake Michigan crashed over the rocky part of the shore, sending up sprays of white foam. The steady be
at of the waves mimicked the thrust of Ivan’s hips, only adding a deeper, primal edge to his fucking.
Ivan let out a low growl before twisting his fist into my hair. Keeping our bodies joined, he swung away from the window. He tossed my body over the low back of the nearby sofa. I dug my nails into the soft cushions as, with this new angle, he pounded into me even harder. I rocked back and forth from the intensity of his thrusts. Each movement ground my pussy against the edge of the sofa back, which only heightened my pleasure.
He viciously pulled on my hair, bowing my back and pushing my hips high.
I cried out. The position of my hips allowed him to thrust dangerously deep. “Oh, God! Wait. It’s too deep.” I honestly feared he was going to cause internal damage if he didn’t stop.
With his free hand, he pried open my ass cheeks and forced a single finger into my clenched asshole. My mouth fell open in shock.
Ivan leaned his powerful frame over my prone body. “You’ll take it in your pussy or in your ass, your choice.”
Oh, my fucking God.
He twisted his finger.
“Ow! Ow, oh, God. That hurts. Stop.”
“Then choose.”
“My pussy.”
Ivan spanked my ass cheek, hard. “Say it. Beg me to keep fucking this tight pussy of yours.”
My cheeks burned hot as I rasped, “Please keep fucking my pussy.”
“With pleasure, moya malen’kaya kukla.”
Chapter 13
Ivan
I was a savage. My one compelling need was to fuck her into submission. With every driving thrust into her tight heat, my control was slipping. Never in my life had I experienced such a primal need to conquer and tame.
This wasn’t just fucking a beautiful woman.
This was different.
She was different.
Fucking her once, twice, a thousand times would not be enough.
As my blood ran high and fierce, pumping through my veins, spurring me on, I knew it would never be enough. My need was almost overpowering. I wanted to crush her delicate body between my hands till she was small enough to fit in my palm so I could hold her close and never let her go. I would hide her away from the corrupt and dangerous world. I would keep her safe by my side so I could control everything about her.
