Chapter 9 - Arseny

I tease her nipple through her shirt, and then I capture her mouth again in a fiery kiss. I press my body against hers, trapping her under me. I thought the heightened emotions were just mine, but the attraction isn't one-sided. I break the kiss to kiss down her chin to her ear, and I nibble softly.

The smallest moan escapes her lips, and it drives me mad. I let go of one of her hands and push it toward my erection, which she gladly starts stroking. I breathe hard against her, kissing her face and then her lips over and over again. She's driving me to the edge. I've never been so aroused before.

"Elena…" I murmur.

"Arseny," she murmurs back.

I slide my hand further down and into her tracksuit pants, into the white cotton panties I'd given her. She's cleanly shaved and unbelievably wet to the touch. She wants this a lot.

First, I massage her clit, which makes her buck slightly. I can't believe she feels as intensely about me as she does. I part her folds with two fingers and slide them up and down, teasing her gently. She groans and tips her head back. I bite and lick her flesh as I slowly push two fingers inside of her.

Something changes. A sudden tense fear is in the air, and I look into her eyes. "Are you a virgin?"

"Get off me," she shouts, and I untangle us.

"Why let it go so far if you're a virgin and you don't want your cherry popped?" I ask, looking at her. "Are you an idiot? I could have hurt you."

"I'm not an idiot," she says, hugging her knees. "I… I didn't think it would go that far."

"So what? Were you trying to seduce me into letting you go? That's not going to work." I take off my cuff and attach it to the bed frame. "I need a shower."

I leave the room. I hear her start trying to get free immediately, so I barricade the door so she can't get out the front or back. I climb into a hot shower and stand there, trying to remove the images in my mind. I would have taken her, mounted her like a stallion. I could have hurt her if I was rough.

I lick my lips at the very thought of it.

I stroke myself, even as I hear her shouting obscenities at me. I channel the anger she has for me into my pleasure. I buck into my hand. The more I think about Elena, the deeper my fantasy becomes.

I grunt as I stroke myself harder, and with mild satisfaction, I cum into the flowing water of the shower and watch it rinse down the drain. I would prefer to cum inside Elena, but this needed to be done.

I get out of the shower and fry off before I slip my boxers back on. I walk to the bedroom where Elena sits on the floor, tangled in the chain cuffed to the bedpost.

"That can't be comfortable," I say, taking out a tracksuit and shirt for me. "Do you need help?"

She rises miserably and slowly extracts herself from the precarious entanglement she finds herself in.

"See, you can do things." I smile at her. "Come, I bet the delivery guy has already been." I cuff the chain back to my wrist and tug. "Come on."

She gets up and follows me. "It's cold in here."

"I'll make another fire shortly so we can be warm while I make breakfast," I say. I unlock the front door and bend down to bring in a box of supplies.

"There… There was someone here. They must have heard me shouting. They'll bring help." Elena looks at me with a wide smile.

"Unlikely, as it's my security guard." I watch as the words dampen her happiness. I feel guilty.

"Stop trying to get away. You just keep disappointing yourself."

"And what? Rather sleep with you? Is that how I'm supposed to spend my time?" she asks angrily.

"Hey, you came onto me, Elena. I told you not to start something you couldn't finish, and you're lucky I'm a control freak who can stop himself from hurting women. Other men wouldn't be that generous." I lead her to the kitchen and start the fire.

I then lead her back to the living room and get that fire going.

"You took advantage of my vulnerability."

"You took advantage of my sleep deprivation," I shoot back. "I'm not going to stand here and argue with you. You tried to seduce me because you thought you could get out of the cuffs, and when that didn't work, you were too scared to go through with it. That's the difference between you and me. If it were me, and if I needed to get back to my family, I would have gone all the way and done everything I needed to."

She looks hurt and crosses her arms. "I'm not a slut."

"And I'm not a saint, but we're both here, and you best get used to it."

I lead her back to the kitchen and start making breakfast. "I promise I'll make arrangements with your father. He gives up the shops he's acquired to me, then I will send you straight back to your family. Unhurt and fully intact. If he doesn't want to give up the shops and he's willing to sacrifice you, then you're mine forever."

That sounds so tempting. Having her bow to my will in both life and bed. I hope her father doesn't care what happens to her and wants to keep the butchers. I know I shouldn't let my feelings cloud my judgment, but Elena is on a different level. I think I finally get why my brothers fell in love.

"You're wrong about my father," she says as I cook the bacon. "He wouldn't do underhanded business deals. He's not petty."

Oh, God help me. She really does think the sun shines out his freaking ass.

"He is, I assure you. Otherwise, he wouldn't be taking the butchers where I like to work," I say. "It's an insult directed at me, and I won't stand for it, neither will my family."

"Does your family even know that you have me?" she asks. "Does your Pakhan know what you're doing?"

"I have leeway that I'm allowed to use at my own discretion. I will contact my Pakhan when the time is right." I start to fry some eggs.

We sit in silence as I cook. I want to prove to Elena that her father is nothing more than a petty asshole so she can see she's not missing out on much. But I do also need to contact Kervyn soon. He knows sometimes I lie low, so he won't be surprised if he doesn't see me for a few days. But if he finds out I went missing at the same time as a Bratva princess of a rival family, he's going to put two and two together and arrive at four.

I make toast on the grill and put everything on the kitchen island, including some sauces Lawrence brought. He won't tell Kervyn where I am. As far as he's concerned, he's never been here in his life. Kervyn will probably question him, but I trust him not to let anything slip. The man was a marine, after all.

I sit down and motion to the food. "Eat up. Afterward, I'll cuff you to the living room, and you can read a book or something."

"You have books here?" she asks me.

"A few, stashed away for when I need to lie low, and I come here to do that." I start to eat my breakfast. It"s delicious, just the hearty meal I need to see me through the rest of this trying day.

I notice Elena doesn't put up a fight and actually eats her breakfast without a word. She's so hungry she takes a second helping of what's on the table, including the baked beans and toast.

"Can your delivery guy bring some things for me? Like shoes?" she asks me.

"I'm not giving you shoes so you can run out of here and through the woods. Next, I might as well remove your cuff and drop you off in front of your father's house with a bouquet of flowers apologizing," I scoff. "What else would you like? A gun to shoot me with?"

"I've never shot anybody before," she says quietly.

"Don't. It scars you in ways you don't like. That sort of violence leaves scars deeper than the skin. Marks on your soul." I finish my breakfast, and I look at her. "You rinse the dishes. I'll stoke the fire to keep the kitchen warm."

She rinses the dishes off in silence as I stoke the fire. The cabin is in the shade of the mountain and can get quite cool, so it is best to keep the fires going and stay indoors.

After she's done, I take her to a closet outside the bedroom. I take down a box of books and carry it to the living room for her. "There's a whole range in there. I'm not fussy with what I read. I'll read the ingredients on a cake mix if it passes the time."

"You're impatient, aren't you?" She says, kneeling by the box and starts to rifle through it.

"I"m not impatient; I just don't like to waste time. If I'm reading or doing something, then I'm not wasting time, and I can reach my next goal quickly."

She picks out two novels and moves to the sofa to sit down. I rummage through the box, pick out a well-read historical romance book, and sit near her.

"Really? Romance?" she asks. "You read romance?"

"What? Can't a killer be romantic? I love historical romance and the way they used to speak—the traditional way, most of all, how things were in order and customs were followed."

"How the rich were really rich, and the poor were really poor," she points out.

"That's just capitalism. It's how it works. I try not to think about things that will ruin the book for me when I'm reading," I say as I flip to page one.

Time ticks by slowly as we sit in silence and read, only getting up to stoke the fires or make food and coffee. I need to hunt some meat for us. Lawrence only bought basic supplies with him so as not to draw attention.

Elena is different when she's quiet. She's almost personable. I could imagine us spending many nights just curled up together in a seat reading. These are not images I want to picture because they can never happen, but images I picture nonetheless.

She doesn't try to attack me again, and as the days go by, I mostly tell her bad jokes and tease her a lot. I try not to be cruel to her. She's easier to manage if she's in a good mood.

God, she's opinionated, though. She was made to run a family, that much I can tell, and her father is a fool for not taking her opinions to heart.

I don't let her know that, though. She is my prisoner, not my guest, though in another world, I'd wish it was the other way around. She has stopped building her pillow fort between us when we go to sleep, and I try to keep my hands to myself so she doesn't feel like I'm trying to violate her. Sometimes, though, it's hard, sitting with my head propped up on my hand, looking down at her sleeping.

I want to taste her. I want to engulf her. I want to make her buck wildly under me until she's crying that she can't take the ecstasy anymore.