Chapter 5

Arianna

I n my dream, Nikolai rescues me again, but this time, I don't even notice the trail of death and destruction left behind in his wake. He strides in and our eyes meet, but this time I run to him.

"Arianna, my love," he says enveloping me in his strong arms.

"Nikolai, you came for me."

"I will always rescue you and keep you safe, kukolka, " he replies, leaning down to kiss me tenderly.

The kiss deepens and he picks me up with ease. He doesn't throw me over his shoulder this time, though. I wrap my legs around his waist and his hungry mouth runs a trail of kisses down my neck. He lays me down on the bed, kissing me tenderly.

"Oh god, Nikolai, make love to me. Please, I want my first to be you, I've waited so long for you," I beg, unbuckling his belt and releasing his manhood.

"As you wish, kukolka , I've waited for you too," he says softly, kissing me once more, his tongue greedily exploring mine.

He enters me, filling me completely and I tremble in his arms, ready to burst just for the feeling of him inside me.

"You are mine, kukolka," he growls, as our bodies connect and become one.

He continues to thrust into me, bringing me close until I reach climax, trembling into an earth-shattering orgasm.

"Oh yes, Nikolai, yes!" I cry.

But he doesn't stop. He keeps going, gently caressing me while expertly delving in and out of my heat. I orgasm again while screaming out his name. And then…

And then I wake up.

I'm momentarily disorientated. Where am I? I smell his heady, intoxicating scent, masculine and woody like a forest on a summer's day, first. Snuggling into him, I savor the feel of his strong chest beneath my hand and feel his heart beating, solid and comforting.

"Nikolai," I murmur.

"Yes?" he replies more softly than I've ever heard him speak.

It's at this moment I finally come to my senses. He's really here. I'm not dreaming anymore. I'm awake and snuggled up to Nikolai Kuzmin, rubbing up against him like a bitch in heat. How mortifying, after the conversation we had before? I should hate him, not be cuddling up to him and having filthy, incredible sex dreams that rivaled anything in the steamy novels I kept hidden under my bed.

As if scalded, I spring away from him, finally looking at his face. A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he cocks an eyebrow knowingly. My cheeks flush scarlet. Oh my god, was I talking in my sleep? Did I say his name out loud?

"What?" I snap, irritated and embarrassed.

He looks as though he's contemplating pointing out that I was the one who spoke first but decides better of it. Instead, he just says, "We're here."

At that moment, the door on my side opens and I'm greeted by the man who was driving. I didn't have a chance to look at him properly before, he's not the usual brawny henchman you'd expect. He's quite short for one thing, though it's clear he's fit and strong, and he's of Asian heritage by the looks of it and I wonder how he became a member of the Bratva. But it's his cheeky boyish smile that catches me off guard.

"Hi there sleepyhead!" he grins, "I'm Endo, allow me to escort you to your room."

"Change of plan. I'll be showing Arianna around," Nikolai announces and I do a double take when I notice he's stood towering behind Endo.

How did he get there without me noticing? For a big guy, he sure can move fast, and quietly.

"Sure thing, Boss. Have fun you two."

Endo winks and Nikolai rolls his eyes. "Endo, remember what we discussed in the car, you need to look into the situation," he says glancing at me before looking away.

"On it. Bye Arianna, nice meeting you," he calls to me with a cheery wave.

"You too, Endo," I reply.

I'm surprised that I actually mean it. He's a breath of fresh air compared to the brooding intensity of Nikolai. Even so, I can't help but be painfully aware of Nikolai's presence. He steps closer to the car, offering me his hand as he notices me struggling to get out of the car in my dress. I slap it away.

"I can manage perfectly fine by myself," I snap.

But of course, the ridiculously long train of my dress has other ideas, it gets tangled around my feet as I stand, causing me to stumble. Quick as a flash, strong arms grab me, preventing my fall. Nikolai is so close to me, just one more step and I could press myself against him. Desire floods my body and I have to suppress the urge to do just that. Before I can do anything, Nikolai scoops me up in his arms and proceeds to stride away carrying me like a… well like a bride—ironically enough.

"It appears you can't. Will I have to carry you everywhere Miss De Luca? Or are you capable of walking when otherwise attired?" he asks, that slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth again.

"I am capable of walking now!" I snap, "So you can put me down."

"Your two left feet say otherwise," he quips, "Perhaps, once you're out of that dress, you can walk then."

"Well for your sake, I hope you have some spare clothes for me, else you'll have to carry me everywhere if I only have this to wear."

"Not necessarily, kukolka , I just said you'd have to be out of the dress," he replies, his voice low and seductive.

Unbidden, the thought of taking off my dress and walking around confidently in front of him, displaying my body for his hungry eyes to devour, springs to mind. The idea is strangely alluring and naughty. I'm not the sort to strut around in my birthday suit. In fact, the only time I'm naked is in the shower. I imagine Nikolai Kuzmin is the kind of man who's naked often, he probably sleeps in the nude, too. The thought of Nikolai's bare body has me squirming, his body is too close to me already. Pressed tight against his rock-hard chest, it's not difficult to imagine how sexy he'd look out of this suit. I fidget a little in his arms, trying to create some space between us and take my mind off the fact that just being this close and thinking these thoughts has me damp down there.

Clearly, I'm making a pained face as Nikolai asks, "Is something wrong? Did I hurt you?" with an uncharacteristically concerned expression on his handsome face.

"No, no, I'm just not used to being carted around like a plaything."

Shit. Wrong choice of words.

His eyes darken seductively and he says, "Things can change, perhaps you might like being my plaything."

I gulp. I'd like that very much. Being around this man has me thinking all kinds of thoughts I shouldn't. I'd like to tear off our clothes and make love right here if we could. Not that I'm going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know the effect he has on me.

Ignoring him, I look up at the house we're approaching. It's beautiful. Nothing like Father's which is a sprawling old-fashioned mansion with vast amounts of space, ornate gold and marble pillars, and lavishly over-the-top decor. Instead, it is modern and sleek, and though a large property, it can't have more than six or seven bedrooms. It's the sort of home I used to dream of living in one day. I've no idea how long we've been traveling, having been asleep for part of the journey, but given the fact that dawn is only starting to break and the sky is still dark, we have to have driven for over twelve hours. Where the hell are we? Considering his response the last time I asked where we were going, I don't bother to ask him now. Hopefully, I will figure it out soon enough.

As we approach the front door, I ask cheekily, "You're carrying me over the threshold, are you?"

His jaw tightens slightly, and an unreadable expression crosses his face.

"No. You're not my wife. Nor will you ever be," he replies coldly as he hurriedly places me upright.

The sudden pang of disappointment I feel at his words is crazy. He's right, of course, but somehow, despite the insanity of it, part of this moment felt like I really was his bride and coming to live here. A foolish fantasy that should never have entered my mind. I'm his prisoner. Nothing more. I'll be lucky if he lets me live.

Just as this thought crosses my mind, he produces a flip knife from his pocket. Oh my god. Is he going to kill me? After all this? Why even bring me here if that was the plan all along? Fear courses through my veins and I contemplate how I can get away.

Another unreadable expression crosses his face before it's replaced with amusement.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Arianna. But, like I said, I'm not letting you walk anywhere in that dress. You'd likely fall down the stairs and break your neck or something, and right now, you're useful to me. So, if you're not overly attached to this dress, I suggest we shorten it a little. Or you could take it off… The choice is yours," he says with a devastatingly sexy glint in his eyes that says he'd like me to do just that.

"I hate this dress and everything it stands for, and sorry Nikolai, but you're not getting to see me naked. Ever. So, hand me the knife," I say, holding out my hand.

"Oh, I think you're wrong there, kukolka. "

The way he's so confident in his desirability is both frustrating and undeniably hot. I choose to ignore him and begin hacking at the dress until it sits just above the knee to preserve some modesty. Or at least that was the goal. I forgot about the damned slit, and shortening it means that pretty much my entire right leg is exposed. Nikolai's eyes darken with desire and this thing between us fizzles again.

"Arianna," he says, taking a step closer so there's barely an inch between us.

I turn my head to meet his gaze, biting my lip slightly. He reaches out and puts a hand around my waist pulling me to him, lifting me just off my feet until he's so close I could kiss him. I think he's about to do just that. And god help me, I want him to. I don't care how bad of an idea it is, right now I want him to kiss me more than anything else I've ever wanted. I tilt my head back, parting my lips slightly in invitation.

And then the door opens.

"Oops, sorry Boss," Endo says, though he's grinning with amusement. "What happened to her dress?" he adds, confused.

"What do you want, Endo?" Nikolai growls.

"It's, erm, well, I think we should go to your office," he says, looking pointedly at me.

Nikolai finally releases me, and I feel bereft of his presence almost immediately. He doesn't even look at me as he strides inside behind Endo. As he leaves, he calls out.

"Dimitri, show Miss De Luca to the master guest suite."

An elderly man appears, unlike the guards that I spotted dotted around outside, he's not wearing all black. Instead, he's dressed more like a butler. He looks a little surprised, about what, I'm not sure. But he nods.

"Of course, Pakhan. Please, Miss De Luca, follow me."

With Nikolai walking away, I have little choice but to do as I'm asked. Dimitri doesn't try to engage me in conversation as we walk, which I'm relieved about. Today has been a long day and all I want to do is take a shower and sink into bed.

As we walk, I take in the house. It's beautifully decorated, minimalist yet classy with stunning bright and colorful pieces of artwork that I'd love to look at more closely. It's a far cry from what I'm used to, my father was ostentatious and loved gaudy styles.

However, the thing that surprises me most about it is the fact that there are so many floor-to-ceiling windows all over the building. Father never wanted to risk sniper attacks, so the few windows we had were small, and even then, most of the time the thick curtains would be pulled shut. It meant we lived in a perpetual state of semi-darkness. Here, I can tell in the daytime it will be bright and airy. It feels like freedom.

We arrive in a bedroom that's as tastefully decorated as the rest of the house. In it, there's a massive king-sized bed with crisp white bedding with more pillows than could ever be necessary, a large suede sofa, and the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the rest of the house. Outside, I can see a huge swimming pool with sun loungers and a terrace with rattan dining furniture. But, to my confusion, there are no curtains.

Either Dimitri notices my puzzlement, or he's simply used to having to explain, as he says, "There's a remote that controls the windows, the night mode will black them out. Don't worry, they're light-tight—and bulletproof," he adds, answering my unspoken question about how safe it is here. "This button is for the TV, it comes out of the bed frame. The ensuite and walk-in-wardrobe are through that door," he continues, gesturing to them. "Pakhan Kuzmin informed me you would require some things. You will find plenty of clothing and footwear in the wardrobe. The bathroom is fully stocked. But should you require anything else, just let me know."

"Thank you, Dimitri," I reply, a little overwhelmed by the influx of information.

"You're most welcome, Miss De Luca," he replies with a tilt of his head before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

As tempted as I am to flop onto the ridiculously comfortable-looking bed, curl up under the blankets, and forget this day ever happened, right now I need a shower. I need to wash away the last god knows how many hours. My hair is matted, my skin is flecked with dried blood and worst of all, I can still smell Nikolai Kuzmin on me. I need a cold shower to get my senses together and wash away any thoughts or feelings I have toward him.