“Tell me, baby,” I whisper, moving my hand to stroke her cheek. “Why couldn’t you do it anymore?”
Yulia’s breath hitches, her eyes filling with tears as she pushes at my shoulders, trying to twist away. Her distress is such that I almost let her go, but some instinct makes me hold on.
“Shh,” I soothe, tightening my arm around her back to hold her still. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just tell me, sweetheart. Tell me why you were going to leave.”
“Lucas, please…” Her tears overflow, spilling down her cheeks as she stops pushing at me. “Please, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I feel like I’m tormenting a helpless kitten, but I can’t stop. Leaning closer, I kiss away the salty moisture on her cheeks and murmur, “Don’t ask? Why not? What don’t you want to tell me? What are you hiding?”
Yulia closes her eyes, and I brush my lips across her trembling eyelids. “Come on, sweetheart,” I whisper, pulling back. “Just tell me. What changed for you? Why didn’t you want to do this?”
“Because I couldn’t.” Opening her eyes, she gazes at me, her eyes swimming with fresh tears. “I just couldn’t do it anymore, okay?”
“Why?”
She tries to pull away, but I tighten my arm again, keeping her in place.
“Why, Yulia?” I press. “Tell me.”
“Because I fell in love with you!” With shocking strength, she pushes at my chest, and I’m so stunned that I loosen my grip, letting her scramble off my lap. The momentum propels her backward, nearly causing her to fall, but before I can grab at her, she catches her balance and sprints into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
36
Yulia
Dura! Idiotka! Imbecile! Debilka!
Sobbing, I shove a chair against the bedroom door, wedging the back under the doorknob to keep it jammed. My arms shake from overexertion and adrenaline, and regret is like a sledgehammer beating against my skull. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have admitted my feelings to Lucas again? The last time, at least, I thought I was dreaming, but I have no such excuse today.
Fully awake and conscious, I gave in to Lucas’s relentless tenderness, crumpled under the merciless pull of his gentle demands.
“Yulia!” The doorknob rattles as he pushes against the door. “What the fuck are you doing? Let me in.”
My chest heaving, I back away from the door, pressing my fist against my mouth to muffle my sobs. Why did I do this again? Am I some kind of masochist? I know what I am to him: a sex toy, someone he wants to own and possess. If I had any doubts on that front, the trackers would’ve dispelled them. What he’s done is the closest thing to putting a dog leash on a human being, and no amount of sickroom care can make up for his intention to keep me prisoner until he tires of me.
Love and captivity don’t mix—for most sane people, at least.
“Yulia.” Lucas bangs his fist on the door. “Fucking let me in!” He kicks at it, and the chair makes a creaking sound as it moves a couple of centimeters across the carpet, letting the door open a crack.
I cast a desperate glance around the room. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but there’s nothing, so I continue edging backward as Lucas starts kicking at the door in earnest. The crack widens with each violent blow, and just as my trembling legs touch the bed behind me, the chair breaks and the door flies open.
“Lucas, I—” I’m not sure what I’m planning to say, but he doesn’t give me a chance. Before I can gather my scattered thoughts, he’s on me, and my world goes topsy-turvy as I tumble backward onto the bed. He lands on top of me, and in a blink of an eye, he grabs my wrists, stretching my arms above my head. His pale eyes burn into mine as he presses me into the mattress, his muscular body hot and heavy on top of me. He’s already aroused—I can feel the hard swelling in his jeans— and I know there’s only one way this evening will end.
My flu-induced respite is over.
His hands tighten around my wrists, and dark anxiety beats at me, mixing with perverse excitement. I’m viscerally aware of my captor’s strength, of the power of his large male body. When Kirill had been on top of me like this, all I’d felt was terror and revulsion, but with Lucas, it’s infinitely more complicated. Underneath the instinctive fear and distrust, there’s a potent animal attraction mixed with a deeper longing, a desire for connection that makes no sense in the context of who and what we are.
I’m in love with a man who has every reason to despise me—a man who scares me to my very soul.
“Yulia…” he murmurs, staring down at me, and I draw in a shaking breath, feeling like I can’t get enough air. I feel torn in two: a part of me wants to run and hide, pretend this isn’t happening, but another part, the weaker part, wants to give in to him again, tell him how much he means to me and beg him to keep me forever.
Beg him to love me like I love him—like I will always love him.
“Yulia, sweetheart…” His gaze softens, and I realize I’m crying again, my entire body shaking with gasping sobs. “Hush, baby, it’s not that bad… You’re okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
But I can’t stop crying—not even when he kisses me, his tongue sweeping over my lips, and not when he releases my wrists and rolls off me to strip off my clothes. I can’t stop crying because he’s wrong. It won’t be okay. There’s no future for us, no hope for anything resembling a normal life. He’s an arms dealer’s second-in-command, a man with no conscience, and I’m his prisoner.
There are no happily-ever-afters for people like us.
The pain of that knowledge is so consuming that I barely feel it when Lucas tears off my thong and climbs on top of me after taking off his own clothes. My chest is agonizingly tight, my vision blurred with tears. It’s only when he settles between my legs, his powerful thighs spreading mine apart, that the animal awareness returns, my body responding to him despite my distress. The tip of his cock nudges against my dampening folds, but instead of pushing forward, he stills, holding himself propped up on his elbows as he cradles my face between his large palms.
“Yulia…” His eyes burn with dark hunger, his sun-bronzed skin stretched tight over his sharp cheekbones. “You’re mine,” he says, his voice low and guttural. “Nothing and no one will take you from me. No more lies, no more running, no more hiding. I’m going to take care of you and protect you. You and your brother both, do you understand?”
I manage a small nod, my hands moving up to clutch at his sides. His hard body is vibrating like a string, his muscles coiled as if for a fight, and I know he’s struggling to control himself. On any other night, he would’ve already been inside me, but he’s trying to hold back, to go slowly because of my recent illness.
Something about that loosens the tight knot in my chest, chases away the panic I was feeling. Maybe I’m not just a toy to him.
He wouldn’t hold back if he didn’t care.
“It’s okay, Lucas,” I whisper, blinking to clear away the tears. Given what he’s promising, letting him have my body is the least I can do. “I’m okay.”
His pupils expand, darkening his blue-gray eyes, and then he lowers his head, capturing my lips in a deep, feral kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, conquering and caressing at the same time, and my lower belly tightens as I feel the hard, insistent pressure of his cock. Heat builds inside me, centering between my legs, but a flutter of panic returns too. Despite my reassurances, I’m far from ready for this—emotionally, at least.
Sex with my captor is never casual and easy.
But it’s too late to express my hesitations. Lucas’s lips and tongue devour me, taking away my breath, and one of his hands moves down my body, kneading my breasts before traveling lower to touch my sex. His fingers find my clit, playing with it until I’m slick and throbbing, and then he grips his cock and guides it to my entrance, lifting his head to look at me at the same time.
His eyes glitter as he holds my gaze, and we both inhale sharply as the smooth, broad head of his cock breaches me, stretching my tight flesh. I’d forgotten how thick he is, how large all around. Despite my arousal, my inner muscles need to adjust to the feel of him inside me, and my breathing turns shallow as he presses deeper, his penetration slow and controlled but inexorable. When he’s all the way in, he pauses, holding himself still above me, and I see sweat droplets forming on his forehead. He’s still trying to rein himself in, to be as gentle as someone like him can be.
“I love you,” I whisper, unable to hold back the words. At this moment, it doesn’t matter that he might not return my feelings, that the odds are stacked against us in every way. “I love you, Lucas, so much.”
His gaze fills with volcanic heat, his powerful muscles bunching even tighter, and I see the last of his self-control disintegrate. “Yulia,” he groans, and then he withdraws and surges into me, thrusting so hard that air whooshes out of my lungs. It should’ve been too much, too overwhelming, but somehow it’s just right, and I wrap my legs and arms around him, holding on tight as he starts hammering into me, claiming me with feral intensity.