“You will clean this up.” My voice is ice hard as I rise to my feet, brushing shards of broken plate off my sleeves. “This room is going to be perfectly clean again, do you understand me?”
She stares at me, defiance warring with self-preservation in her gaze. Common sense tells her to back down and do as I say, but she doesn’t want to give in too easily. Sure enough, her chin comes up. “Or what? Are you going to waterboard me? Threaten me with a knife? Kidnap me? Oh, wait, you’ve already done all that.”
Despite the bravado of her words, her hands visibly tremble as she stuffs them into the front pocket of her sweatshirt. If I were a better man, I’d back off at this point, let her have this small victory. But she’s not the only one angry today; the rage inside me feels like a living beast, dark and potent, fueled by her rejection and the knowledge that I may never get what I truly want from her.
If I can’t have her love, I’ll settle for her hate.
“Oh, ptichka…” I come toward her, enjoying the glimmer of fear in her eyes as she instinctively moves toward the door. Before she can take more than a step, I stop in front of her, cutting off her retreat. Lifting my hand, I brush her hair back from her face and lean in, inhaling her sweet scent as I dip my head and murmur into her ear, “Haven’t you learned not to play these games with me?”
I hear her swallow, and when I raise my head to look down at her, I see that her chest is rising and falling in a rapid rhythm. She’s scared, my Sara, and for a good reason.
Even I’m not sure how far I’ll go today.
Her lips part, as if to offer a rebuttal, and I bend my head again, possessing that soft, quivering mouth with all the violent hunger she arouses in me. My hands slide into her hair, holding her head still, and I swallow her protesting gasp as her arms come up, her slender fingers curling around my wrists in a futile effort to tug them away.
As usual, she’s delicious, the inside of her mouth like warm wet silk. Her slender body arches against me as I back her up against the dresser, grinding my erection against her flat stomach, and her plush breasts press against me, her nipples pinched into hard little peaks. I can hear her breathing quicken, and I know that if I were to slide my hand into her pants, I’d feel her growing slick for me, wanting me.
Her body, at least, is drawn to me.
It takes all my willpower to lift my head and step back, to release her instead of devouring her on the spot. But I do—because we need to settle this once and for all.
“You want to know what else I can do to you, ptichka?” My words come out low and hoarse, coated with the lust and anger incinerating my insides. “You want to know what will happen if you push me too far?”
Sara’s eyes are wide, her chest heaving as she attempts to catch her breath, and I step closer again, capturing her delicate face between my palms as I gaze down at her. “You want me to explain to you the reality of your situation?” I continue.
She swallows again, and I feel the tremor in her hands as she grips my forearms. “Y-yes.” Her voice is barely a whisper, but there’s still a hint of defiance in her hazel gaze. “Yes, I do.”
My lips curve, and even I can feel the darkness in that smile. “Oh, ptichka, where should I begin?”
10
Sara
Caught. Trapped.
Even as I hold Peter’s gaze, resisting the urge to look away from the hypnotic silver depths, I can feel my strength fraying, my resolve to fight depleting. I’ve never felt more his prisoner than I do at this moment, have never been so acutely aware of my vulnerability. He’s not hurting me, his big palms cradling my face with exquisite gentleness, but those metallic eyes tell a different story.
I’m at my tormentor’s mercy, and he has none to spare.
“Let’s start with the basics,” he murmurs, and I close my eyes as he lowers his head, brushing his lips across my forehead before raising his head to look at me again. Under normal circumstances, the tender kiss would be disarming, but my nerves vibrate like a finely tuned fork as he lowers his hands to my shoulders and says softly, “Your old life is gone, Sara. I let you live it as long as I could, but it’s over now. You’re going to have to accept that. And the transition can be easy for you… or hard. It’s up to you.”