Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Lev

If Kolya, our mentor, were here, he'd warn me to watch out for this one. She reminds me of a Venus flytrap. It'll lure you in with its sweet, seductive nectar, but when an unsuspecting insect lands on the trap, it snaps shut, ensnaring its prey before it sucks the life out of it. She's stunning, the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and yet every instinct in me tells me to turn and run in the other direction.

Kolya didn't just train us physically, showing us how to hone our bodies to become finely tuned instruments as powerful as a weapon; he taught us mental resilience, too. In all honesty, that training's been way more useful than the physical stuff. Any lout can teach you how to shred with macros and protein. This guy taught us how to persevere.

I've put his training to good use, and I'm gonna have to do it now. Because it doesn't matter that her eyes are like molten chocolate, warm and sensual in all the best ways, framed in long, thick black lashes. It doesn't matter that she's so beautiful, she makes my heart ache—the kind of woman men lose their religion over and the type of body that makes them sell their souls to the devil.

It doesn't matter that Isabella Morales is lust and sin wrapped up in a bow. I'm gonna break this woman if it kills me.

I must.

So far, she's responded favorably to being manhandled, so that's likely not going to work. Still, it can't hurt to try.

She's suspended with her arms up above her head, giving me a stunning view of her slender but sculpted back and tight, round ass that I want to lick and bite and fuck until she screams. Toned, tanned legs curved with feminine lure.And that's just the back view.

Fuck.

I've found no evidence of anything on her, not so much as a tracking device. It really does bemuse me. I can't believe the LSD would allow a woman of her stature and beauty out of their sight. Surely, someone will come looking for her at any moment.

Won't they?

But no. No tracking on her phone. Nothing on her person. And even though Isabella schools her features well, she didn't hide the flicker of pain that crossed her face when Aleks said something about her family not knowing or caring where she was.

She's an independent woman, but there are holes in her armor… I mean to take full advantage.

Just for good measure, I do one more sweep with the tool Aleks left for me, but she's hiding nothing.

Now that that's over with, I get to move on to bigger and better things. First, I'll try physical intimidation. It's the easiest method, and something tells me she might like it.

I circle her, taking everything in. The hardened nipples and the way she bites her lip when I breathe on her. I cup her ass, my large palm holding her in place. I watch as she swallows, and her pupils dilate.

It's so easy getting her excited. If only it were this easy to get information from her.

Maybe she truly doesn't have anything to tell me, but I doubt that.

What's her weakness? How will I break her?

I step behind her and slowly reach for the buckle of my belt. I remember the look of it tucked between her teeth as I unfasten it and pull it slowly through the loops.

I wonder if she's ever been whipped. If I were going to give her a spanking, I'd use my hand. But I'm not here to turn her on, or me, for that matter.

I wonder if it will make her talk or arouse her? Maybe it'll piss her off.Maybe both.

I'm already hard as fuck by the time the leather's through the loops. I make sure to take my time, so she hears the sound of the belt unbuckling and the whir of it being pulled completely off.

I loop it and fist the buckle.

"Let's go, Isabella. Let's hear what you have to tell me."

She tries to look over her shoulder as if to make sure her senses haven't betrayed her.

"I told you. No one knows I'm here. I have no more information to tell you."

I don't know if she'll ever actually tell me the truth. She lies as easily as she breathes. I suppose it's part of her charm.

It's go time.

The first strike snaps against her ass, a measured, deliberate stroke. Though she comes up on her toes, she barely makes a sound. The sight of the red stripe across her ass makes me hard as fuck.

"Are you sure about that?" I ask, bringing my hand back before I lash her again. I lay down two, three, four hard slaps across her ass until the skin is striped a red-hot pink, but she only shakes her head and wiggles her butt.

"I told you," she says in a singsong voice. "And whipping me is only going to turn me on, not get more information." She sticks her butt back out. "So go ahead. Give me all you've got. Please tell me you're just warming me up, and you've got more than that. "

Saucy little bitch.

I won't let her bait me, but I won't let her shame me, either. I snap the belt again and again, still careful not to hit too hard, even as a little voice inside my head asks me why?

Why am I afraid to break skin? To really, truly hurt her? I need answers, and I fucking need them now.

The next lash makes her cry out. I open my hand, let the belt's tail loose, and snap it again. She flinches but still only wriggles in her restraints and taunts me. "Now that's what I'm looking for. There you go. If you're trying to turn me on, you're doing an excellent job." The low purr of her laugh makes me smash my teeth together before I slap the belt across her ass, the hardest strike I've given her yet. It satisfies me to see the raised welt of the leather. To hear her cry of pain.

"Tell me," I snap. "What do you know? If you know nothing, why did you come to Viktor? You're contradicting yourself, Isabella."

I whip the belt across her butt again, crisscrossing where I left off. The good thing about a belt is that it builds in intensity, each strike magnifying the last. I'm no stranger to a little bedroom kink. I know how to make it sting and how to make that sting last. A man can be questioned with muscle. A woman needs a much finer touch.

When she still doesn't answer me, I kick her legs apart, loop the belt again, and slap it against her bare, perfectly pink pussy. She hisses in a breath and squeezes her eyes shut, but I don't miss the glint of wetness on her pussy lips. I swallow hard, ignoring the heady haze of arousal that threatens to blind me.

I slap her again and again, but she doesn't move. I fucking swear, with her low moan and the way her eyes have fluttered closed, she's on the edge of subspace, for Christ's sake.

I toss the belt down and reach for her hair. I fist it and yank her head back. "Tell me."

Her mouth flies open, but she doesn't say a word.

"If you don't tell me, I'm going to find out who matters to you. I'll try different methods to get the truth out of you. Pain, fear, maybe even well-earned pleasure."

I'm determined to break her down mentally, the most effective way of extracting information from most prisoners. At that, her eyes fly open, her pupils dilated with heated arousal. She licks her perfect lips.

"Please do," she says in a breathy whisper.

Alright, this isn't working.

I go back to my knife and slowly, deliberately sharpen it in front of her. The sound of metal scraping metal heightens the tension in the room, and I swear she looks excited.

"Knife play?" she asks in the same voice one might croon about a delicious delicacy. "Mmm."

I press the blade between her breasts, the cool metal making the skin it touches turn white.

Her breath quickens, her chest rising and falling. Her eyes, wide and luminous, lock onto mine with a mixture of fear and arousal.

"Are you going to tell me anything now?"

She swallows hard, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. My dick aches, imagining how fucking good it would be to have that gorgeous, pouty, full mouth wrapped around my cock.

Another option, if I need it. I'll keep that shit in mind.

I drag the knife downward, just enough to leave a trace of a line on her skin. She gasps, her back arching toward the blade.

"What do you want to know?" she whispers in a hoarse voice.

"What is your brother planning?" I twist the blade and trace the curve of her breast. She whimpers softly, her hands fisting. It's the first sign of any weakness. She isn't impermeable, then.

"Stay still, Isabella," I snap, my voice a low command.

I love the way her name rolls off my tongue. I love having her at my command. To win the attention of a woman like this would be a man's crowning joy. To win her devotion, his absolute triumph. Beauty is fleeting, but her fire and brilliance, her indomitable spirit and fierce intelligence behind those captivating eyes—now that's what drives a man to his knees.

Her breath becomes erratic as I continue my slow, tortuous path with the blade. The knife passes over her stomach, and I watch her emotions play out on her face—excitement, definite arousal, and something that hints at fear.

"Good girl," I praise softly. Still testing. Every word and move a litmus test. I pause with my knife just above her pubic area. I let it rest there, a silent threat. When she bites her lip and stifles a moan, I turn the knife so the hard nub of the handle is at the vee between her thighs. I press it down. It slides easily through her slick folds. She bucks and whimpers.

"Do you want to come, Isabella? Do you want a reward ?" I circle the handle of the knife and press it further down between her legs.

Her mouth parts open in a silent gasp, her eyes filled with horror and anticipation. Holding her gaze, I press the handle deeper in. Her breathing hitches as I slide it in and out.

"You like this," I say in a low whisper. "You dirty, dirty little slut." A wicked grin lights her face, and she spreads her legs wider.

"Takes one to know one," she says in a breathy whisper. A trickle of arousal wets my fingers. I slow my pace and watch her reaction, then draw the handle of the blade slowly, so slowly, until it's nearly out. She whimpers and writhes, her pelvis arching when I shove it back into her hot, slick folds. I twist it and press my thumb to her clit this time.

"Oh God," she moans as I build a rhythm.

"Let's hear it," I whisper in her ear. "What was your brother planning?"

I hold the blade still. She tries to force friction, but her position makes it impossible. I move it just a slight bit. She parts her legs and whimpers.

"I don't know," she says, but this time she won't look in my eyes.

I shove the handle fully in, and her head falls back. I toss it to the floor, kneel in front of her, and spread her legs wide.

I've found my method of interrogation that just might work with her. I part her legs and slide my tongue between her pussy folds. I let the tip taste the tiniest drop of her arousal. I swallow, keeping myself in check with effort.

"Oh God, " she says, her wrists straining with the effort of keeping herself in place. She whispers a stream of something in Spanish I can't quite identify, but I hear a few curse words mingled in.

I'll break this woman, no matter what it takes—spanking, pain, sexual intimidation.

"What do you know? Who sent you?" Anger creeps into my voice. I realize it isn't just her presence that's a threat but the mental challenge she presents.

"I can't tell you," she says on a whimper. "Stop fucking asking me."

I grip her thighs and nip her clit. She screams and shakes, but I don't miss the way her pussy clenches around my fingers when I shove into her. I lick her, a slow, deliberate stroke of my tongue through her folds before I pull back and hold her gaze with mine.

"You know," I say lazily. I shove my fingers in her core but hold them still. "Tell me what you know."

She shakes her head. "I can't."

"Oh, sweetheart," I say, shaking my head before I lick her clit again. "You can and you will. None of them know where you are, remember? There's no one here to save you. No one to rescue you."

Her eyes flash at me, and she clenches her teeth. "I don't need a fucking man to save me."

I chuckle. My breath on her thighs makes her skin pebble. "You're naked and tied to chains in my basement. No tracker on you. No one who gives a fuck about where you are or what you're doing." I shake my head. "I don't know why you're holding out."

"Maybe because I have nothing to tell you," she snaps.

I spread her wide, swallow hard, and lick her again and again until her clit throbs and she's moaning on the verge of climax. She bites her lip as if holding on for dear life.

"Why are you so afraid of the truth, mi querido jefe ? Tell me, Lev. What happened to you?" She grins, her eyes glinting at me dangerously even as they water. " Who hurt you ?"

She's way too in control here. Goddamn, she's naked and restrained in my basement. I'm the one who's whipped her, threatened her, and brought her to the edge of climax with no release, yet the seductive purr of her voice and I'm hard as fuck.

Jesus.

I'm done here.

For now.

I'm both frustrated and intrigued by her resilience. I'm wary but curious. How can she stay so in control?

"You're a fucking liar," I say. I breathe against the sensitive, damp skin of her inner thighs. I lay the flat of my tongue along the edge, and she tries to roll to me as if silently begging for my tongue where she wants to relieve pressure. I spank her ass and hold her in place. " I am in control of this situation, baby. Me. Not you. You'll do what I say. And since you haven't given me any information…" I give her one more stroke of my tongue that makes her quiver before I lean back and stand. "You'll have to be punished." I shake my head. "This isn't over. I will find out everything you know."

I turn and walk away. I chuckle to myself at the sound of her scream of frustration right before the door to the workout room slams shut.

The woman is a threat, a ticking time bomb that could destroy everything we've worked so hard for. I won't allow that.

She's maddening… and intriguing. But above all, my duty is to my family.

She will remain a prisoner.

I will break her.