He takes my chin in hand. “The bastard kind.”
He places the key on the nightstand as if teasing me with my freedom.
“Just the one. And you’re going to give me what I want right now.”
Eight
Nova
My throat goes bone dry. I scoff in his face and yank my chin from his grip. “You haven’t even told me your name. No way I’m going to fuck you.” I don’t care how good-looking he is or how good he smells. I have my hard limits.
He chuckles like I said something funny.
“You already know my name. Now we’re going to talk about you and you are going to give me the answers I want and then you’ll do as I tell you, little girl.” He says that as if he actually believes his own words.
For once be smart, Nova. I measure my words, fearing his answer but ask all the same. I frown, my ire mounting. “And what is it you want from me?”
He’s dressed differently than when I saw him last. A white Henley replaces the tuxedo shirt and instead of form-fitting black slacks, he now fills out a pair of black jeans that mold perfectly to every inch of his muscular body. Over his white shirt, he’s wearing the same vest as the other men. A bleached skull with a wild flame of fire wrapped around it. Black eyes stare out from the center and the morbid thing has its mouth gaping open as if in a silent scream.
Chills crawl over my rapidly heating skin.
He makes the mistake of stepping into reaching distance and I rear back and drive home the heel of my foot.
What I don’t predict is him anticipating my move and coming to fall over me when I retract my foot.
Two hundred plus pounds of Russian mafia man lands on top of me and we are back where we were last night. Him between my legs and my dress around my waist. Surprise surprise, his usual grim expression across his stubbled face is practically plastered into place. A plus for continuity in that department.
A hurricane made of anger, unwanted heat, and curiosity swirl through my head. My fingers grip the metal around my wrists and I make the conscious decision to not immediately lash out.
He peers down my body in a slow glide and I see appreciation for my lack of decent panties. A lacy white piece of nothing I can’t wait to strip off and burn along with this piece of trash dress.
Ares leans his substantial weight forward and braces his hands beside my head. The headboard creaks and groans under his weight.
Between my legs, I feel the familiar signs of how my body reacts when this bastard gets near me. And it pisses me off.
My chest heaves at the feel of all of him pressing into me. My gaze searches his face for any hint of what was going on here. I can fight or reason with him. Since lashing out hasn’t gotten me anywhere, maybe a change of tactics will.
“If I promise…?” I trail off unsure of what I’m willing to do to get these damn things off me. Screw him. Kiss him.
“Measure what you say next. You don’t exactly get to make the rules here.”
I freeze at the feel of him pressing against my core.
“Trynoneof the rules.”
He rocks his hips and I involuntarily groan at the feel of his arousal brushing over the thin material of my thong.
And suddenly his voice is low, gravelly, and very much a whisper in my ear.
“Don’t worry, I have plenty of pussy elsewhere,malyshka. What I need from you is another skill set that doesn’t involve the exchange of bodily fluid. Unless you want it, that is. Are you ready to beg for my cock?” His voice turns husky and his accent rougher.
“As if!” I croak between heavy breaths. Maybe in another life. Maybe. I admit to myself.
His little tease hangs between us and I am not about to reach out and pluck it from the air. Maybe if he had never cuffed me I’d be a little more open to the idea, but yeah, I tend to hold a grudge.
I swallow thickly.
“Wha…what is it you want?” Every deep breath he takes makes my puckered nipples brush against his chest. Puckered because of the adrenaline jacking my system, not because he smells of the spring wind and the very essence of freedom. Nor the fact his warm breath on my ear is a weakness no other soul on this planet is aware of.