When I could no longer hold his eyes, mine dropped to his chest nervously. The way he stared at me, it did strange things to my stomach and heart. His hands gripped my hips, and he pulled me into his body, our fronts touching. He held me both firmly and preciously. It was a dangerous combination.
My hands instinctively went to his chest. His shirt was soft, and everything underneath it was hard. His strong muscles were firm under my touch, and I felt myself wanting more—to touch and see more of him.
His heartbeat was strong and sure, so much like himself—and so much unlike mine, which tripped with each breath I took.
I was nervous, he was calm.
I was unsure, he was confident.
I was shy, he was arrogant.
I was weak, he was strong.
We were opposites, yet when we touched, it felt like a jolt of lightning, a never-ending wave of pleasure passing through us. From the tips of his fingers to mine.
“Thank you,” I whispered, still staring at the rise and fall of his chest.
With a finger under my chin, he tipped my head back. “For what, Maria?”
I took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. Nervousness clawed at my throat, and I suddenly found it hard to speak. Lyov stared at me expectantly, waiting patiently for me to continue.
With our eyes connected, I showed him my soul. I only prayed that he didn’t steal it and drag it to the crimson fire of hell.
My lips parted, and I finally spoke again. “For bringing me here. You saved me. I don’t feel…like I used to with my previous master. It’s different. You are different. And you make me feel safe. I wish to be good for you, Lyov.”
So that you never let me go.
Those words were left unsaid. A slave never made demands. We only listened and obeyed.
I was going to be everything he wanted and needed. Then he wouldn’t think of leaving me. I would be his, just as much as he would be mine.
“It’s cute that you keep saying I saved you, Angel. If only you knew the truth. I captured you. I am the devil in disguise, and the devil…well, he likes to play games.”
His voice broke me out of my thoughts, and I stared up at him in surprise. He was no longer grinning, like a man with no worries in the world. Instead, he wore his signature smirk. The same one that made him look vicious. His grey eyes were laughing at me, but the darkness in there couldn’t be mistaken.
His fingers lingered over my neck before drawing upward. His touch moved closer to my mouth. Lyov paused, and then his eyes went to where his finger laid, just inches away from its destination. He thumbed my lips roughly, and I trembled in his hold.
He brought his head down until our mouths were so close that I thought he would claim my lips. Instead, Lyov stayed there, letting anticipation lick its way into my body. His breath feathered over my skin when he spoke again.
“I am the devil in a pretty suit, sweet Angel. Remember that.”
His voice was soft, caressing me—yet those words—they were anything but soft.
I should be scared. A small part of me was. After months of being a slave and living in captivity, it taught me to doubt everything. It had instilled fear in me.
But with Lyov, the fear was mixed with something else. I couldn’t figure it out. He made me feel. I didn’t know what it was…but my heart skipped and my breath caught in my throat. My body moved on its own—moving toward him, even closer as I sought his warmth.
His smirk grew, and he chuckled low under his breath. His chest vibrated, and I liked the way it sounded. Rich and smooth. Dark and deadly.
Valentin was a handsome man. He truly was. His face was sculptured. He was tall, his build wide and strong, very much like Lyov.
But there was just something about my Lyov that held my attention and made me want more.
It confused me.
But I’d rather let Lyov do the thinking for me. I chose to place myself in his palms and let him take care of me. I gave him the power to become my everything, so I could be what he needed.
Because I trusted him. My reasoning might be naïve and weak, but I needed him. Our match wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t perfect. But I believed it was perfect for us.
For now. Until how long?
The thought broke through my delirious mind, reminding me of the future I couldn’t see.
Even though Lyov told me not to call him Master, he was still one. Slaves are not kept forever. We are made to be bought and sold after being used.
I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to think of this. No, Lyov called me Angel. I was his sweet Angel. My heart told me that we could never end. Me and him.