Chapter 8 - Alexei

Last night was one of the most difficult nights of my life.

Sleeping was nearly impossible with such a beautiful girl in my arms. I did not make the best choice when I cuffed her to my arm.

She fell asleep, probably exhausted from all the running and trying to escape, and in her sleep she clung to me—her arms wrapped tightly around me, her hands on my body, the heat of her skin and her beautiful scent taunting me.

All night.

Every time I closed my eyes, the sensation of her got more intense, with nothing else to distract me from the pure physical feeling of her.

So I kept opening my eyes. Not that it helped much.

The sun was already rising when I drifted off to sleep from sheer exhaustion. I gave in.

But now, with the bedside clock telling me it is seventeen minutes past eight in the morning, she is mumbling in her sleep.

Fighting something in her dreams, she sounds a bit scared, maybe lost. Her grip around me tightens and her legs thread through mine as though she is trying to find safety in my embrace.

I can't help it.

I want to protect her from the demons in her mind, so I pull her close against me.

But I also can't help the way my body fires up, every inch of my skin heated with desire.

She moans softly and my mind drifts over the edge.

My cock begins to throb and grow hard, pressing against her.

I don't know if I should wake her up or just move away from her, but I don't want to do either.

In this quiet moment, I am just enjoying her.

A soft gasp.

Her lips part.

Her eyes flutter, and then her dreamy face is staring up at me.

"Clara?" I say softly.

"Mm," she responds.

She can feel my cock against her. She doesn't move away.

I expect her to shout or get angry, but she keeps staring up at me with those gorgeous caramel-brown eyes.

"Clara…" I don't know what to say.

I lean a little closer to her and my lips brush over hers.

She still doesn't move away.

I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and press my mouth against hers.

She kisses me.

Our lips are heated and smooth against each other's. I dip my tongue inside her mouth and the pull it out again. Tasting her. Feeling her.

Rocking my hips against her, my free hand is now running down her back as her breathing gets faster and deeper.

She moves against me, encouraging and teasing at the same time.

Her fingers are digging into my skin and soft, beautiful moans are falling from her lips into my mouth.

I don't think I have ever been this turned on in my life.

I grab a handful of her long strawberry-blonde hair and pull her head back so I can trace kisses over her neck.

She wraps her legs tighter around my waist and rocks against me.

Then, our lips are locked again, and the tension is rising.

My body is becoming frantic to feel more of her. All of her.

Desperation is flooding my system as I grip her tighter, kissing harder.

"Wait," she gasps, turning her head away and shutting her eyes. "Wait. I—I can't do this—"

I pause, but it takes everything in me, a level of self-control that I did not know I had.

"Clara—"

"No," she says, sounding angry now.

She pushes against my chest and starts trying to unwrap her legs and arms from mine. Rolling over to untwist our cuffed hands, she ducks under my arm and turns her back on me.

"Clara?" My throat is tight.

"Let me go, Alexei ," she says, pleading and desperate.

I grit my teeth together, my cock so hard it is painful, especially now that I know nothing more is going to happen. I shake my head even though she can't see me with her face turned away. "No," I say darkly. "You are not going anywhere."

I sit up in bed and she is jerked forward, forced to come with me.

When she tries to resist, I lift her and fling her over my shoulder. I carry her downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee and she complains the entire way.

"I have to pee," she moans as her body bounces against my shoulder.

"Fine," I reply coldly, then walk into the downstairs bathroom and stand next to the toilet.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Go. Or don't. But hurry up, because I want coffee."

Her eyes grow wide when she realizes I am not kidding around. She sits on the toilet, her cheeks glowing red. When she is finished, she is silent. Standing up, she walks obediently next to me towards the kitchen.

I make us coffee, scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, which is a lot easier said than done when you only have one hand and someone is pressed up against your body the entire time.

Clara keeps huffing loudly as I move around the kitchen and she is forced along with me.

We are hardly speaking, but there is clearly animosity between us. I know mine is all to do with the sexual tension that I did not have a chance to release.

I know hers is probably to do with the fact that she has been kidnapped.

I never intended for things to be this bad.

I mean, if I go right back to the moment when I took her, I didn't even intend to do that. It was just too easy. She was right there. Away from the house. Right in my reach.

I didn't want to upset her, I never meant to hurt her, and now I feel like the fucking bad guy because she is starting to hate me.

Of all the things I wanted, that was the last thing.

I want to make her love me.

I should never have done this.

I do stupid impulsive things sometimes, but fuck if this is not the stupidest of all.

When breakfast is ready, we carry everything to the dining room table and sit next to each other eating in heavy silence.

There is something that has been bothering me since last night, and I want her to explain it to me.

"Clara, what happened last night? Why did you look scared when I shouted?"

She ignores me.

I grab her wrist and tug it towards me. Her eyes flare up in fear. I'm right about this. Something happens to her when I get angry and her fear overwhelms her.

"Clara. What happened to you? Why do you get so scared when I show any anger?"

"Just leave it," she snaps, looking embarrassed now. She drops her eyes to the plate in front of her and won't look at me.

"Hey," I say gently, lifting her chin with my finger. "Talk to me."

"Why should I tell you anything? What do you care, anyway? I'm just here as some bargaining chip for whatever plan you have going on behind the scenes. Just ask my uncle for whatever it is you want and get it over with so I can go back home."

She doesn't know that she is what I wanted. She doesn't know that I took her because I wanted her, not to trade for something else or bargain.

I sigh.

"I am not getting up from the table until you tell me what made you so afraid. We can sit here all day. I don't care."

"Are you always so hell-bent on getting your own way?" she snaps angry and fiery.

"Yes," I say calmly.

She shakes her head, but I can see she is giving in. She is going to tell me.

Clara takes a deep breath and bites her lower lip.

"You reminded me of my uncle, okay? There. Now you know. Now drop it."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"You reminded me of when he gets angry."

"And?"

She sighs and rolls her eyes, accepting that I am not going to be okay with half answers.

"Giorgio has a really bad temper, and when he gets angry, he gets really aggressive and nasty. He doesn't get physical, but he hurts me, he throws things, he shouts and screams and it's really terrifying—look, like I said, he doesn't hit me. It's just—emotionally, it's scary and hurtful. He is controlling, manipulative. Living with him is like living in a prison."

She goes quiet and again she looks embarrassed.

My heart breaks, pulling tight in my chest.

"He makes you feel bad about yourself?"

"Yes," she whispers.

"Why does he treat you like that? He has no right to make you feel that way." Anger bleeds into my voice.

"What do you care?" she mutters.

I pull her face gently towards mine, looking into her soft eyes.

"Clara, I never want to make you feel that way. I am so sorry that happened last night. I promise you, from the bottom of my heart, that will never happen again."

Tears spring to the corners of her eyes and she quickly blinks them away. The thought of her uncle doing any kind of harm to her is burning wildly in my mind. I want to kill him.

I want to tear his world apart. I will never let him near her again.

"You will never go back there," I snarl.

"Alexei, you can't do that. I want to go home ."

"Why would you ever want to go back to him?"

"Because at least that is a prison, I understand. This—" She lifts her cuffed hand. "This is worse. I can't even go to the bathroom in privacy." She sighs sadly.

I clench my jaw, realizing what I am doing to her is not okay.

I need to figure something else out.

We carry on eating our breakfast without any further discussion.

My mind is brewing with thoughts of how I want to save her from her life—and how I want to stop her uncle from ever harming her again.

After breakfast I lead her through to the upstairs guest bathroom, the only one upstairs that doesn't have a window.

I uncuff her hand from mine and lock her inside there.

She doesn't complain at all. Not a word. I can tell she is angry and doesn't like any of this, but I am going to figure it out.

While she is locked in the bathroom, I go through the entire house.

The doors are all secured with coded locks. The windows I can lock, too, I just never bothered.

Room by room I lock the mansion down. I can't keep her chained to me, but I can still make sure this place is a fortress.

It takes me almost an hour before I am done. Then I head back upstairs.

I knock on the bathroom door.

"Are you finished in there?" I ask through the closed door.

"Ages ago," she snaps back at me.

I chuckle. She's still so feisty. I definitely made a mistake kidnapping this one. I pull the door open and she is standing there with her arms folded, glaring at me.

I step aside so she can walk out of the bathroom.

"What? No cuffs?" she sasses as she passes me.

"I never want to make you feel how your uncle makes you feel, Clara."

"Ugh. You are such a hypocrite. Don't insult my uncle. He is my family. He has taken care of me ever since my parents died. He has been there for me."

"You call that being there for you? Making you afraid? Making you feel horrible about yourself? That's not what family is supposed to do to each other."

"What would you know about me or my uncle? You don't know me. You don't know him like I do. Don't you dare insult him," she says defensively.

"Clara, he's a monster for what he does to you. I will not just stand by and let that happen anymore."

"A monster? Is that some kind of a joke? Maybe you should look in the mirror."

Her eyes pierce into me, her words stabbing into my heart.

"I am not a monster."

"I've heard the rumors about you, and guess what? I've seen this firsthand. You have trapped like a prisoner. Cuffed to you. For what? Treating me like I'm a toy here for your entertainment."

"You won't be cuffed anymore."

"So, you're letting me go home?"