Chapter 10

RAFAIL

I love the way her body trembles when I touch her. The way she yields to me, soft and pliant. A surge of primal instinct slices through me. She's not really fighting me anymore. Her defiance crumbles.

She hasn't caved in, not fully, and my instincts rail against me. You fucking know she isn't really your wife.

I logic my way around it. By all intents and purposes, she is. She was given to me. She's my possession. And I will not make any excuses for what I do next because I fucking own this woman.

The difference between her and every other woman I’ve ever touched demands a different approach. I feel something deeper, something that claws at the edges of my control and makes me want to fucking ravish her. A primal part of me wants to please her, to see her lips part as she screams in pleasure. Somehow, that would be my greatest victory.

So I keep my hands steady as I touch her, relishing the way her skin brushes against mine. When my fingers graze her delicate skin, the warmth of her body sends my senses into overdrive. She's pale, soft, vulnerable. My little swan.

I admire the curve of her waist, the strong column of her neck, her pale porcelain skin. Wide blue eyes framed in thick blonde lashes. There's a little dimple in her chin when she smiles bashfully at me, but right now, she looks as if she's Little Red Riding Hood and I'm the Big Bad Wolf.

Everything about her calls to me, and I know it's not just my imagination the way she responds. Her mind is trapped in confusion, but her body knows exactly what the fuck to do. I can't help but feel twisted pride at that.

She doesn't remember, but her body knows.

Guilt makes me pause, but I quickly bury it because I have needs, too, and logic tells me she belongs to me. I don't want her afraid of me, necessarily, but I can't relinquish all my power. Not now. Not ever. Weakness gets you fucking killed. I've seen too much, lost too much to give in to weakness now. But something tells me she is my kryptonite.

Her eyes meet mine as I guide her to her bath, the raw fear in them whispering a plea. Don’t hurt me.

I’ll make no promises. I can’t.

As I pull her closer to me, the scent of her arousal, sweet and seductive, fills the air. I take in deep, cleansing breaths, wholly unfamiliar to me. Steadying. When she looks up at me with those wide, blue eyes, her body slightly trembling, I know she isn't just afraid. There’s more to it.

"Beautiful," I whisper, my voice thick with desire. I brush my knuckles against her cheek, and she shivers. I enjoy the way her skin flushes under my touch. My little swan is fragile, and yet… There's strength there, buried in the confusion in her eyes. This is a woman who ran from me, now dependent on a stranger.

She doesn't know her own strength, not yet. It's almost laughable that she, of all people—the one who's my victim, my possession—is the only one with the strength to fucking challenge me, and here she is… dependent.

She's mine now though. She was before, and she is now. No one will ever touch her. No one else will ever know her. No one else will even breathe the fucking air she does. She's clean, a blank slate, and I have a new chance. When she spares me a look, my hands tighten on her hips.

I've been almost gentle until now, but I’ve exercised virtually all my self-control. I want her to trust me, to look to me not just as a man but as her protector. The idea of her running again fills me with undeniable rage.

No one deserves her but me.

Steam rises in the air from the drawn bath behind us as I lean in closer, my lips brushing her ear. "You're mine," I whisper, a statement and a declaration. Her breath hitches, her eyes meeting mine. She opens her mouth as if to say something and hesitates, uncertain. I bend my mouth to hers and kiss whatever she was going to say away.

The less said, the better.

I need to erase every trace of doubt from her mind and make sure she knows exactly who she belongs to. My thumb grazes over her collarbone as I kiss her again and again, savoring the way she trembles.

"Trust me," I whisper to her, my voice softer this time, almost pleading. I hate that I'm showing any weakness because I am not vulnerable, but here I am, raw, exposed. I need her trust, her submission. Maybe more.

She doesn't pull away. I help her out of her bra and panties, then lift her in my arms, careful not to aggravate her injuries. She's light in my hold and fits perfectly against me. As I carry her to the bathroom, toward the waiting tub, my heart clenches. Grounding myself into my new reality.

I lower her into the water, steam curling around her. She won’t slip away from me. Not physically, anyway. Pain is a tool, something to be used when necessary… But not now. Now she needs to be pampered; now she needs to know that she is precious to me. My prized possession. I kneel beside the tub, my fingers trailing through the water, brushing against her skin once. Twice.

My dick aches. Throbs. My jaw clenches. Control. I must maintain control. But it's slipping, little by little, with every look that she gives me, every soft intake of breath. Every time we touch.

" Weakness gets you killed ," my uncle told me when I became guardian of my siblings and heir to the throne. "Never let anyone take your power." But I want to protect her. Control her.

She closes her eyes and sinks deeper into the water. It reaches her chin. For one brief moment, I imagine what would happen if she slipped under the edge, sinking into oblivion. I imagine yanking her out of the water, breathing life into her.

What the fuck is going on with me?

Her eyes open, and a look of challenge meets my gaze. "Well, are you joining me or not?"

The tension crackles in the air between us. For a moment, I don't move. I let the words settle between us, a challenge and an invitation. Her bright blue eyes are wide as if she's surprised even herself, but steady, waiting for me—curiosity tinged with a bit of defiance. My little swan is daring me to come closer, even though she should be running. She's inviting me into her space, laying down whatever fears she has.

"Is that a challenge?" My voice is a low, deep growl. I hold her gaze as I shed my boxers. The air is thick and hot with steam, and as I come closer, her eyes track the movement of my hands. I thought it was dumb as fuck to have this huge bathtub in here when I first took over this room.

My parents' room was on the first floor—not the primary bedroom because they wanted to be nearby when they were raising us. When I became guardian of my siblings and owner of this house, I took over the vacant main suite. I wanted space. This is a good vantage point, most importantly, overlooking the front lawn, with wide open spaces so I can see to the left and right of the estate. Now, having a tub like this doesn’t seem like a waste. Even if we never use it again, it was worth it just to see her naked body submerged in its depths.

Her eyes track the movement of my hands as I brace myself on the edge of the large tub. The control I have over her with the slightest movement sends a surge of heat through me. "Are you impatient, little swan?"

"Why do you call me that?" she asks, licking her lips. She tilts her chin up defiantly as though she's brave, but I know that she's tumbling. I can tell by the way her fingers graze her neck and the way she gasps for air.

"Your nickname. You grew up in Siberia. It seemed fitting."

"Siberia," she says quietly. "I remember that." Fuck. I don't want to trigger her fucking memory. I need her aligned with me before I do. Her memory is going to come back, and I have no idea how or when, but I need her loyal to me before it does. "You're elegant like a swan," I say quietly, changing the subject. "Graceful."

I step into the tub, and her eyes continue to track every movement. I submerge myself into the water, and fuck, it feels good. Can't remember the last time I had a goddamn bath. I reach for her, my knuckles brushing her jaw. I watch as a droplet rolls down my finger and onto her chin. Quietly, I tilt her face upward so she has to meet my gaze.

The pulse in her throat flutters. Her chest rises and falls in the heated water, but she doesn't flinch. I don't see fear in her eyes like I did before, but now something more—a magnetic pull, as if she doesn't even know who she is, but her body does. And it's telling her she wants more. I watch as a flicker of something dark, dense, buried under layers of confusion, passes. She wants to understand, wants clarity, but maybe a part of her remembers I am not someone she can trust. I want to get her focused back on me.

"Up here," I say with a little growl. She flinches, and her eyes meet mine. The heat of the tub envelops us as I scoot closer to her. I reach for her and pull her over to me. She floats easily in the hot water and nestles against my chest, the warmth of her skin next to mine. My hand splays across her stomach, my thumb grazing the underside of her breast, my pinky right at the little V of her pussy. She has a small, tight, unshaven patch. I rub my thumb along the edge and feel the softness of her satin skin. Underneath the surface, she's strong. I feel her muscles tense beneath my palms, and she does not pull away.

"How is your pain?" I ask gently into her ear.

"It's there, throbbing in the background. But tolerable," she mutters.

"Let me take your mind off of it," I whisper in her ear.

Her eyes close, and she lets her head fall on my shoulder. “Deal.”

My cock throbs beneath her ass.

I rub my thumb over her hard nipple in the water. I cup both breasts, weighing them in my palms and flicking water over them. I place one hand under her ass and lift her so that her breasts break through the surface. I bend and suckle a nipple between my teeth. I bite her lightly, and the way she moans—the sound in the small chamber—makes my dick hard as fuck. I lick and suck, tugging her nipple into the wet heat of my mouth until she's moaning, her mouth parted, her cheeks flushed, and I don't think it's from the heat of the water anymore.

"You have no idea how much I wanted this," I whisper in her ear. "You fought me. Wouldn't let me touch you anymore. Ran from me." I nibble her ear and tug the lobe with my teeth. She gasps, and my voice lowers again. "I should punish you for that."

She shivers, even though it's warm in here. "I should be afraid of your punishment.”

I drag my mouth along her neck and lick the water off her skin. Her pulse quickens under my lips, her body shrinking against mine. I crave her submission, crave her taste. I crave the way she responds to me as though she wants what I can give her, even if her mind betrays her.

I cup her abdomen and slide my hand lower over the warm wetness of her pussy, drawing out a soft gasp from her. I tighten my hold, keeping her close to me, her back against my chest and my cock against her ass. Her breath stutters as I press a finger to her throbbing clit, just teasing, just skimming.

"Tell me you fucking want this," I growl in her ear, my voice a command. "Convince me not to punish you."

"Tell me what that punishment would entail first," she says.

Hot damn. My pulse races.

"You over my knee. My palm across your ass. You, tied to my bedside, naked, while I tease you and bring you to the edge of climax. You, wearing my cum down your neck, back, and breasts while I stroke myself off again and make you watch.” She swallows with widened eyes as I continue. “You, sitting on my face, sucking my cock while I whip your ass, taste your cream, and don't let you come."

"Uhm. That sounds a lot more enticing than being locked in or grounded," she says with that humor.

"I can do that too."

She actually smiles at that, her laughter filling the small room.

"You want this. Admit it." My voice is a dark command.

When she doesn't respond with words, her body tells me everything I need to know. The way she shifts, opening her pussy to me, inviting me to touch her. I press one fingertip to her throbbing clit again and circle. Her head falls back on my shoulder, and she sighs contentedly. My other arm curls possessively around her waist, holding her tight as I press my lips to the hollow of her throat. She lets out a soft whimper, and a dark satisfaction and primal urge surge through me.

She's yielding to me, but it's more than that. So much more. She's choosing this. Her body knows what she wants, even if her mind protests, and she’s allowing this.

It’s a small win, but I’ll take it.

My fingers close around her, my thumb brushing her nipples, one at a time. I bite back a groan of my own because the way she responds is addictive. Her fingertips curl against my thighs, and she tries to hold onto control, but she's slipping… slipping under my spell, and she's not going to get away. I trail my fingers down to the top of her, brushing water over her, fanning her. Her breathing grows heavier, and her hips shift against mine, pressing into me. My cock is at her entrance, hot, thick, and ready. My control hangs on by a thread. I want to take her and fuck her until she's boneless and screaming my name.

"Tell me you want this," I demand in her ear. "Fucking tell me, my little swan."

"No," she says, turning away from me with a teasing look in her eyes.

A spark of excitement fires in my chest. "So you do want that punishment I promised?"

She gives one noncommittal shrug of her shoulder. Of course she fucking does.

"Bad girls don't get pleasure, little swan. Only good girls do."

"Oh damn. I'll be a good girl for you," she says in a voice that melts every icy side of my heart. It's all I need. I turn her head and capture her mouth with mine, swallowing every sound, licking her tongue as I delve my fingers deep into her slick pussy.

I thrust, pressing her clit with my thumb, and thrust again.

She moans into my mouth, and I swallow it. Her hips rise, and I stroke again. I take her to the edge until she's tumbling, begging, and then I part her thighs and slide my cock into her slick, hot entrance. She’s so fucking tight. A virgin.

Christ.

"Oh my god," she says in a whisper. I hold myself back so I don’t hurt her as I thrust into her again, slowly, the hot water lapping against her bare chest and mine. "Oh my god."

"There's no turning away from me now, whether you remember who you are or not, Anissa," I say in her ear, my hand paused over her clit. My cock bobs inside her.

She nods. “I know,” she whispers with a groan. “I won’t.”

I thrust again, and her head falls back in unadulterated bliss. She moans, writhing, water lapping in waves against her bare breasts and chin while my pleasure eclipses everything. I curse and thrust, claiming her. I spill into her, milking the tight walls of her pussy as she climaxes with abandon. My senses drown in pleasure as I hold her on top of me, thrusting into her hot channel with claiming strokes.

“Yes,” she breathes, riding out her orgasm. “ Yes .”

“Good girl,” I breathe into her ear. “That’s right, baby. Surrender. Confess you’re mine. Let me hear who owns you.”

Her response is breathless, choked, her voice thick with desire. “You,” she gasps, drunk with pleasure and helpless to protest. “I belong to you. Yours .”

I hold her to me.

My plan is working.

Only I don’t know what will happen when she remembers.