He evaded it and all of the other objects I hurled his way. Catching me by the waist, his dark voice pressed against my ear.
“Just as you deserve to have your ass whipped.”
I pushed against him, trying to knee him where it hurt, but he grabbed my thigh with a punishing grip before it could make contact.
“Knee me in the nuts again,” he growled, “and you’ll be soothing the ache.”
“Let me go!” I continued to struggle, but he had my wrists in an unyielding grip while he wrapped his belt around them and tied a knot.
When he stepped away, I tried to escape, but he yanked on the other end of the belt, and I collided with his chest. He secured the other end to the modern shower head on the ceiling, raising my arms above my head.
Panting, I looked up warily. “What are you—?” The rest of the words escaped as a yelp when icy water rained down on me.
I was tall enough that both feet rested flat on the floor, but there wasn’t enough slack in the belt to escape the spray. I sputtered and choked on the unexpected downpour that was so cold pins and needles pricked my skin.
“What did I tell you about fighting me?” He gripped my face, lifting it so I would meet his eyes.
A violent shiver racked me as a torrent straight from the Antarctic soaked my hair and matted my dress to my body. I blinked the water from my eyes. I didn’t know if it was the freezing water or the relief he wasn’t going to whip me, but the fight within vanished, leaving me trembling and alone.
“It’s cold,” I complained through chattering teeth.
“Good.” He was half-soaked as well, but he didn’t even flinch, fingers tightening on my cheeks. “You have a temper, kotyonok.” His grip alleviated a touch, dark eyes on mine. “Don’t make me put a leash on you.”
After his threat, I should apologize. I should beg for his forgiveness and a collarless neck, but, instead, the emotionless words that slipped out were, “I hope the tea was still hot.”
The smallest hint of amusement on his lips clashed with the annoyance in his eyes, and his response was thoughtful, maybe even rhetorical. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Let me go.”
Something subtle and conflicted passed through his eyes, and I wondered if he’d already made plans to release me soon; if he would exchange me for my papa’s life in days or even hours. The idea tightened the walls of my chest, making me feel lost and alone, but despair wasn’t the only feeling that bubbled to life.
“Mmm.” The soft noise vibrated against my lips. “Not yet.”
I knew even if I escaped having entertained the devil, his demons would follow me for life. As I imagined him walking away without a backward glance like I was a wad of gum on the bottom of his boot, unwanted and shortly forgotten, something fierce surfaced. It wanted to haunt D’yavol like he would me. Or maybe that was just an excuse for losing my grasp on hatred and letting it go up in smoke and flame.
I expelled a shaky breath at the glide of his thumb across my cheekbone. The contrast between his anger and caress threw me off my axis, lit a lightning bolt of heat in my belly, and arose the mindless desire to invoke his softness and approval.
His thumb ran across my lips like he was testing if I would bite him. I didn’t. I even let him push it slightly into my mouth. The low sound in his throat invaded the chill in the air, warming the water a few degrees, and at that moment, all I wanted was heat.
Even if it came in the form of hellfire.
I closed my mouth around his thumb, so he had to pull it free against the hot glide of my tongue and lips. Flames were started by less than the look in his eyes, and the full weight of his approval settled an ache between my legs.
The warmth inside conflicted the cold torture on my skin in such a way I felt dizzy. High. Drunk on a tumbler of ten-thousand-dollar vodka twenty stories in the air, and I could do nothing but yield to the touch when his thumb pulled my bottom lip down as it left me.
Wrists wrapped in leather, trickles of icy water pouring over my skin and down parted lips, time slowed beneath the thick pull between us that felt like half-lidded eyes and moonless nights. Ivory skin and goose bumps. Soaked Brioni and tattoos. Selflessness and greed.
The visceral need to close the distance stole the air from me, and I couldn’t find enough oxygen that wasn’t tainted by his heat and the intoxicating smell of the forest. My head was above water, but I was drowning; panting for the breath I knew this sin wouldn’t satiate.
“Please, let me out of here.”
We both seemed to know my words held two different desires: to be released from this glacial punishment and my internal cage.
My beating heart and the patter of water filled a moment of dense silence.
“You want your freedom, you have to earn it.” The demeaning, suggestive statement should break the spell between us, though the sound of his voice—cultured but tainted by a thicker accent than usual—slid down the back of my neck like a caress. I wanted to lean into it.
“I’m on my period,” I said dumbly, in the hope he would find it as unpleasant as Carter did, and I’d be saved from the immoral moment. I should have known that wouldn’t be the case.
A smile touched his lips. “A little blood has never scared me off.”
I swallowed. “What do you want me to do?”
“Get creative.”
Throat thick, hesitation stalled me. I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me or what I could even do with my arms tied above my head. This was my chance for some freedom, for a looser rein to figure out a plan of escape, but what good would that be if I drowned first? I guessed I would just have to learn to swim.
I did the only thing I could do.
Rising to my toes, I closed the distance until our lips were a hairsbreadth apart; until mine skimmed his with each shiver that rolled through me. I breathed against his mouth for a second, waiting for his reaction—any reaction that would induce the confidence to proceed—but nothing came. Frustrated, with a shaky wave of self-consciousness, I pressed my lips fully to his.
Gaining a little slack in the belt, my arms were held awkwardly above my head, so I rested them on his shoulders. He tasted like cinnamon, corruption, and something so masculine I inhaled deeply to breathe him in. As my mouth moved against his, all hesitation inside dissolved, replaced by a flood of fire that seared its way to the tips of my toes.
He didn’t reciprocate the kiss. In fact, he’d seemed more engrossed in his little games at breakfast than he was now. I suddenly needed a reaction from him like I needed to breathe.
Kissing him soft and slow, my leg slid up the side of his, curling around his hip to draw him closer, and then I licked the scar on his bottom lip. He exhaled roughly, stepping closer beneath the spray of water, and braced his hands on the shower wall on either side of me. He was warm, exuding so much heat I trembled and pressed against him to soak it in.
My blood vibrated in my veins, boiling below the surface. I slipped my tongue into his mouth, he sucked it with a graze of teeth, and the wet, hot glide pulsated in my core. His lips moved against mine, meeting every dip and lick with a more commanding one. As my leg tightened around his hip to urge him closer, a hand left the wall and grabbed ahold of my thigh, his fingers pressing into the flesh.
When he nipped my bottom lip, I bit him harder. The growl from deep in his chest vibrated against me. Desire inflamed in my stomach and tightened into a ball that demanded to be relieved. I was nothing but touch and feeling, floating on a cloud of lust so hot I was sure I wouldn’t survive if it popped.