Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 141532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“Just a graze. He wasn’t the best shot. I hear you gave Sevastyan some trouble.”
“He’s a complete bastard even if he is your cousin.”
“He was following orders.”
His blue eyes slid over her. The way his gaze drifted over her and the tone of his voice sent a little shiver creeping down her spine.
“Uncuff me, Mitya.”
His eyebrow shot up. “I don’t think you’re in a position to give me orders, kotyonok. In fact, if I were you, I might try being nice. You’re in a little bit of trouble.”
She scowled at him. “Why would I be in trouble?” she demanded. “I wasn’t the one bossing everyone around, deciding who went where and letting their total bastard of a cousin shove me into this room and then cuff me to the bed.” She yanked on the cuffs. “Take them off.”
Again, those blue eyes moved over her and this time he didn’t bother to try to hide the flames flickering there. He managed to look like sin incarnate. Her breasts instantly ached, nipples pushing hard against the shirt she wore. She still had no clothes other than Mitya’s too-big shirt. Sevastyan had dragged her into the safe room, and then, when she’d fought him, he’d very coolly handcuffed her to the bed.
She was suddenly aware that her legs were spread wide and the shirt had only two buttons closed. His gaze had dropped to the junction between her legs. She wanted to squirm under his gaze and close her legs. Instead, she felt the slick heat begin to dampen her bare lips.
“I need a shower.” Mitya turned away from her and headed to the bathroom built into the safe room, which was really more like a small but very luxurious apartment.
“Mitya.” She hissed his name, but he paid no attention, not even turning around.
Ania bit her lower lip and studied the post her right hand was attached to. Was it possible to slide the cuff up the post and off? Sevastyan had attached the cuff around one of the smaller places between large wooden bulbs that made up the ornate post. There was no way she could get the cuff over those spheres that climbed up the post.
She took a deep breath and listened to the water running in the shower. He was definitely in a mood. He didn’t look at all happy with her, although he had a rather impressive bulge in his jeans, not that it was anything new; Mitya was often hard or semihard, which she had always thought was a plus. She wasn’t so certain now. Not that she minded playing bondage. That could be fun, but not when he was in whatever mood he was in now.
She tried to ignore the fact that the longer she lay there, spread out like a starfish on top of the bed, the more the fire between her legs grew. There was nothing she could do about it either. She couldn’t relieve the burn with her fingers, or even rub her thighs together. Her heart accelerated and even her stomach did a slow roll in anticipation.
It felt like forever before Mitya came strolling out of the bathroom, toweling off his wet hair, another towel wrapped loosely around his waist. He didn’t look at her but rather went to the light panel, and immediately the room was plunged into darkness. He fiddled with something, and dim lights in the ceiling above the bed came on, pouring down on her, spotlighting her body.
Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected that, and it made her feel very vulnerable, far more so than the cuffs. The cuffs were for playing. Something fun they could laugh about together. But the lights shining on her body made her feel exposed. It was strange that the handcuffs made her feel like his sexy plaything. She liked playing the part of his plaything. But those lights . . .
He opened drawers and pulled things out, walking back over to place a few items on a small end table. She turned her head to try to see what he’d placed there, but she couldn’t. She moistened her lips and looked up at him and instantly swallowed anything she planned to say. He had that look again.
“Do you remember when we talked, and I made it very clear that when I told you to do something necessary for safety, I expected you to do it?”
She tried to outstare him, but he just stood there, never blinking, just looking down at her without moving or speaking. She had the feeling he could do that all night. She nodded.
“I want you to answer me, Ania.”
“I remember,” she said. “But—”
“There are no ‘buts.’ We had an agreement.”
“Mitya,” she protested, her heart accelerating. Why did she have to love the combined trepidation and exhilaration he always caused in her when he used that tone? When he had that look? Her blood felt so hot rushing through her veins she was afraid she might burn from the inside out.