Ensnared: The Mafia's Prisoner (Book One) (A Dark Mafia Romance) Page 7

  With the window coverings down, I can’t see out of them, but the plane starts moving slowly forward, I know it’s rolling down the runway toward its takeoff point. I hate the trapped feeling that wraps around me.

  The engine is rumbling now, and the crystal chandelier above the table tinkles faintly, as if we’re in a minor earthquake. I rattle a little in the seat. Micheal sets his hand on my shoulder, steadying me.

  There are clocks on the wall across from me, one for each time zone. The one for our time reads 10:23. I focus on the seconds hand, ticking slowly. What time will it say when we land?

  As the plane takes off, soaring into the sky, I close my eyes, willing away the helpless tears that long to fall. I grip the couch cushion, holding on for dear life.

  We’re in the air now. The last chance of escape has just slipped away into nothingness. I pray that when we land, an opportunity will present itself.

  “We can move about freely now.” Michael’s voice cuts into my racing thoughts. The click of his seatbelt being undone reaches my ears before he stands, leans in, and undoes mine. “Do you need to use the restroom?”

  I shake my head, my thoughts too scattered to allow speech.

  He returns to his seat beside me, sitting close enough that his knee brushes mine. I flinch.

  “Relax, kravitsa. I’m not going to kill you.”

  I wish I could have thought of some deadpan comeback, but my brain has gone numb.

  “Look at me.”

  I turn my face to his, but the motion feels automatic, as if my mind has been disconnected from my body and I’m merely reacting to his words on autopilot.

  Michael brushes my hair behind my shoulders, the sweep of his fingers across my neck making my body shiver with delight. He runs his palm across my cheek, then cups the side of my neck. The heat of his palm almost scalds my skin.

  “I should wait.” His voice is throaty with need. “But I need to be inside you. I need to make you mine now.”

  Nervousness won’t allow me to keep quiet. “Michael, I told you, I’m not on the pill. Do you want me to get pregnant?” It’s a stalling tactic, and the gleam in his eyes lets me know he’s picked up on it.

  “We’ll have that taken care of tomorrow when we land.”

  I lick my lips. “How?”

  “A doctor will meet us at our destination. He’ll give you an injection that will keep you protected. For tonight, I’ll take my chances. I need to be inside you.”

  Sadness washes over me. He’s talking about one of those injections that keeps a woman from getting pregnant for years at a time. The permanence of the situation settles in, eating away at my resolve. The idea of becoming pregnant with his demon spawn as a result of whatever happens tonight sickens me.

  “So, that’s it?” I sit up in the seat, turning sideways to face him. “You’re just going to throw me down here and fuck me senseless?”

  He drops his hand. “Is that how you see me, Aurora? As some mindless beast?”

  “You tell me.”

  He shakes his head. “You know me. Stop behaving as if you don’t. I’m not a savage.” He stands up, going over to a bar that runs along the wall beside the couch.

  “Do I? Know you, I mean? It’s been nine years, Michael. You’re nothing like the boy I knew.”

  That’s not strictly true. The boy who bullied me as a child was conniving and devious, always ready to humiliate me in some new and twisted way. But there’s a smoothness, an air of experience to him now that is both seductive and frightening. And even at twenty, he wouldn’t have gone this far. Sometimes there’s a coldness in his eyes that I’d never seen back then.

  “You’re right. I’m not like him at all.” The matter-of-fact coolness in his tone makes the words sound like a warning. He takes a bottle of wine from a bucket of ice on the bar and twists it open. The cork comes out with a merry little pop.

  The label on the bottle catches my attention. The wine is a Pinot Noir. Figures. He likes my favorite wine. It pisses me off to have anything in common with him.

  Michael pours two glasses and nods toward my feet. “You might as well take those shoes off and get comfortable. It’s a long flight.”

  It’s silly, but removing my shoes feels too much like I’m making myself more vulnerable to him. I slip them off and set them beside me on the floor, going for casualness. “Yeah, what’s a flight to Russia, twelve hours or something?”

  Carrying the wine over, he smiles as if he’s caught onto my attempt to get him to reveal his plan. “Nine, actually. And nice try. I’m not telling you where I’m taking you.”

  Annoyance makes me roll my eyes as my scalp prickles with dread.

  He sits and holds out a glass of the wine for me.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Take it. It will help you relax.” There is an earnestness to his voice that, were he anyone else, would make me think he’s genuinely trying to ease me into this.

  In college and university, I’ve lost count of how often guys at parties offered me drinks, implying I’m one of those uptight virgins who needs to loosen up and have a good time. The notion that he’s doing the same thing now gets my guard up even more than it already is. “I’m not letting anything cloud my focus around you.”

  “We’ll see if you still feel the same way when you see what I’m going to do to you.”

  Something much more potent than fear makes my throat go dry. “W-which is what, exactly?”

  Without answering my question, he twists on the couch and sets the glass meant for me down on a table beside the couch before taking a sip from his own. “The wine is there if you change your mind.”

  I scoff and push to my feet without thinking about it. “What kind of game are you playing at? You have me, you know I can’t stop you, so why are you bothering with the seduction act?”

  He sets his glass down and stands up. “Why do you look so distressed?”

  “Seriously?”

  “It’s more than that.” When I look away, his fingers cup my chin and turn it to him. “Remember my rules, Aurora. Hide nothing from me.”

  God, how does he make me feel so exposed, so vulnerable? The way he locks my eyes with his, the soft command of his voice, pulls the truth from me.

  “Okay. You want to know?” I run a hand through my hair, and when he only puts his hands in his pockets and waits, I drop my arms. “Ever since I was a teen, I’ve had this ridiculous idea of what my first time would be like. A soft first kiss. Flowers, romance. Enjoying the morning after, and knowing that…that we both gave each other something so special.”

  Something flickers in his eyes, but it vanishes before I can place it. “A fairytale. That’s a child’s dream.”

  Only when he starts walking slowly toward me do I realize that I’ve backed away from him.

  “You want me to say I’m sorry, Aurora? You want me to feel ashamed for wanting you? Would that make you feel better about spreading your legs?”

  “No,” I snap. “But stop pretending this is some perfect, romantic date we’re on! You’re taking something sacred from me. Let’s not forget what you are, here.”

  “And what am I?” Closing in, his tone dares me to insult him in the worst way. I refuse to back away any further and let him see his affect on me.

  “You’re a monster. Act like it.”

  Tightness pulls his mouth to a thin line. For a moment, I think he’s going to do it. He’s going to take me, rough and mean and hard, a way fitting of what he’s done so far. Instead, he slides his hands out of his pockets and closes in on me again.

  I bump into the door to the cabin and startle. When had I moved?

  He puts his hands on the door frame to either side of me. His arms pen me in, his frame towering, and it strikes me how huge he is. I can’t look away to save my life. He’s perfect; dark, cruel perfection.

  “That would make it easier, wouldn’t it?” He draws his lips so close to mine that his warm breath fans my face. The scent of wine on his
breath makes my head swim. “It would make it easier if I behaved like some vicious animal. Then I would be the bad guy picking on some poor, innocent angel, and you’d feel better about betraying your family, and mine.”

  I can’t tell if he’s referring to the deal I messed up between him and my dad, or whatever caused him to set his sights on me in the first place. Tears sting my eyes so sudden and hot, I can’t stop them from splashing onto my face. “I didn’t know my father was behind that,” I grit out. “I was trying to save someone’s life.”

  “Da. You’re good at sticking your nose into other people’s business, aren’t you, Aurora? Without a care who you might hurt in the process.”

  Confusion plays havoc with my mind. I really have done something to piss him off. Something personal that goes beyond messing up his deal.

  “What did I do to you, Michael?”

  “Like you don’t know.”

  “I don’t!” My voice breaks. The fear and panic he’s revving up within me the longer he drags this out has me on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  “Liar.”

  “Just do what brought me here to do!” I almost shout. “Get it over with!”

  “Watch your temper.”

  “Please, just. Just do it.”

  “No. I’ll play the villain some other time, when you really want it.”

  My eyes grow huge. “Oh, God. You son of a bitch, I hate you. So much.”

  “Good. It’s more fun that way.” He slowly undoes the buttons on my shirt, just as he did in the car. Taking his time. I turn my face away, and he seizes my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “Look at me. I want to see in your eyes how much you want me.”

  With no way to escape his piercing gaze, I still have one card left to play. I go limp against the door and drop my hands to the sides. Not resisting, but not responding, either. Submissive, but closed off.

  “I have ways of making you respond,” he says only when he’d undone the last button. He slides his palms over my now exposed sides.

  Oh, I just bet he does. Tingles race across my skin with his touch, and I force myself to remain still, not to draw nearer to him.

  One at a time, he slips the straps of my bra, along with my blouse, from my shoulders. Then he pushes my bra cups down so that both my breasts spill out into his hands. It unsettles me how gentle his touch is, especially with the mocking look in his eyes.

  “You have two of the most gorgeous tits I’ve ever seen. Made for my mouth.” He cups the mounds I’d always thought were too small, as if they fill his hands just right.

  Each nipple pebbles against his palms and his eyes dance at the response. He glides one hand to my back, crushing me to him and palming the other traitorous breast. Then he bends, sucking the nipple deep into his mouth.

  Pure, raw fire spreads through me, a riot of sensations that go all the way to my toes. Every lick and swirl of his tongue, every hard pull, makes my toes curl more. I try to remain unresponsive until his teeth graze my nipple and the pleasure-pain makes me gasp.

  He gives one long pull and when I whimper, he lifts his head.

  As if he can see the desire for him in my eyes, his head swoops in and he devours my mouth with his. His tongue bullies mine, lapping hungrily, giving me no time to think or react.

  A whimper escapes. I try to turn my head away, but his fingers seize my jaw, holding it in place while he ravages my mouth. I cry out in rage and hatred, as much with him as with the way he sets me on fire.

  By the time he lifts his head again, my senses are reeling and I’m panting. I’m also wet as hell.

  “Your mouth feels as good as it did nine years ago.” He strokes my lips with his thumb. “I knew you were just a tease. You liked that, didn’t you, kravitsa?”

  The suggestion that my years of dislike for him was some sort of act meant to toy with him burns away my resolve, and I can’t hold back anymore. I draw my face close to his. “You’re deluded, Michael. Psychos aren’t my type.”

  His jaw hardens. He lowers his arms and backs away to the bar. “Come here, Aurora.”

  Pressing myself into the door, I remain where I am, though I don’t know why I do something so stupid. The look in his eyes makes it clear I’m already in trouble. I suppose it still stings far too much to submit to him so easily. It’s too much like letting him win.

  “Do you want me to come over there and get you?”

  Yes. Then the blame would be on him. Why can’t I make myself move?

  Michael stalks across the room to me. The next thing I know, he’s turned me around, and his hand is on my nape. The room becomes a blur before he shoves me up against bar and pins me so that my chest and cheek are pressed against the hard wooden surface.

  I cry out at the sudden violence, half surprise, half panic. “Michael, Jesus Christ!” I flail and buck.

  His calloused palm is rough and hot on my nape, easily imprisoning me while his hips press into mine, pinning me in place. I try to claw at his legs, his thighs, but he grabs my wrists and crosses them at the small of my back with his other hand.

  “I’ve indulged you enough.” His voice is gruff and instantly makes my muscles coil with need. “It’s time you learn what happens when you push me too far. My patience has its limits, and I have no problem taking what’s mine.”

  I should loath what he’s doing, but his aggressive dominance sends a spear of white hot need straight through me. It goes right between my legs, licking at my clit.

  “Spread your legs, Aurora.” His tone is raw and animal and hot.

  Oh, God, I can’t believe this is happening. My breath comes in panicked gasps. There’s no way out of this. This perfect, vile beast of a man has me. It’s either I let him take me, or I let him send me back to my father, marked for death.

  There’s nothing to do but accept what’s unfolding between us. It’s a train wreck, but there’s no other choice. He’ll take my body, but it’s just a body, just a shell. After, I’ll pick up the pieces and go on, finding a way to deal.

  I deflate against the bar, going limp in his grip.

  His palm claps my ass cheek hard. The sting makes it impossible to close off.

  I whimper, my insides twisting with humiliation.

  “Spread your legs.”

  I spread my ankles apart, but nothing more. A throb has started deep in my core, refusing to be ignored.

  “Good girl. Your pussy is going to feel so good, Aurora. I’ll give you just what you want.”

  Keeping my wrists pinned to the small of my back, Michael slides his other huge palm along the slope of my ass, down one cheek, then up the other. Then his fingers glide between my legs, stroking my aching core.

  Even through the material of my pants, his touch brings an instant flood of sensation so intense that I jolt. Wetness pools between my legs. He groans in his throat in approval and strokes again, right through the arousal that soaks me.

  “Ohh, see? Feel how ready you are for me.?”

  Shame rolls through me, wave after wave. I close my eyes, trying to fold in on myself.

  “Don’t shut me out. I’ve waited too long for this. You don’t get to shut me out now.”

  And there he is again, the devil from my past, the one who knows how to get under my skin and tear me apart. Of course, he won’t let me retreat to a place where he can’t affect me. A place deep inside myself where the jagged edges of our past can’t cut me, and my body doesn’t have to respond to the way he makes me want him.

  Michael yanks my shirt down to my waist and pulls the sleeves so that they’re only half on my arms. He wraps the slack around my wrists and ties them so that my arms remain pinned without him having to hold them.

  The helplessness of my situation simultaneously ramps up my hatred for him and makes me hotter.

  “Get used to this, kravitsa. This is your life now.” He glides his hands around to my front, undoing the front of my pants while grinding himself into me.

  Oh, my God, his cock is as hard as steel,
long and thick and sliding just right between my folds, through my pants. And even worse, my hips lift, rubbing my pussy against him.

  “You were made for me, made to please me.” His fingers delve inside my panties, stroking my pussy, sliding up and down over my clit. Wetness coats his fingers and he growls hungrily. “So wet for me.”

  “It’s just a reaction, Michael. It doesn’t mean anything.” Yeah, right. I’m on fucking fire, my knees shaking with the effort not to fold under me. Every inch of him that’s grinding into me feels perfect. It feels…right, as if my body was somehow made for him, regardless of how much of a brute he is. Regardless of how much I loathe him.

  “Tell me you want me to fuck you. I want to hear you say it.”

  No way am I telling him that. I’d rather bring on whatever pain he will rain down than admit that. “Fuck you.”

  He jerks my pants and panties down, exposing my ass. Exposing my sex as if it’s his to take. He swats my ass hard. The sting is like fire. A groan slips out of me, half pain, half pleasure, before I can stop it.

  He thrusts two fingers inside me, a single, hard stroke.

  The flash of pain makes me cry out, makes my eyes water. He pumps them in and out, just enough to stretch me. To open me up for him. My thighs shake and I sob, anger and shame chewing me up and spitting me out.

  “Good girl. Open up for me.” A few more strokes, and I feel my muscles relax as if his voice has seized control of me.

  Michael withdraws his fingers. He reaches around and shoves them in my mouth. I taste my arousal, but also the coppery tang of my blood. I try to turn my head, and he shoves them deeper.

  “Take them. I want you to taste what I take from you.” His voice is like poison in my veins.

  I moan and find myself sucking his fingers until their clean.

  He groans. There’s a clink of his belt and the sound of his zipper, sharp and dangerous in my ears. His breathing is harsh and ragged, filled with lust. The sound makes my pussy clench.

  “Nine fucking years, I’ve wanted this. Every woman I’ve been with has had your fucking face, Aurora. You’ve tormented me enough.” The length of his steely cock strokes between my folds, driving away the pain and intensifying the ache there.