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“It’s okay!” Alina cried out. “They never used handcuffs on me. They never tied me up at all.” Her eyes closed. “All they had to do was hit me, and I got scared and was willing to do anything.” A tear slipped down her cheek.
Luka’s eyes searched the top of the dresser for the key.
“I don’t want to talk about that!” Her shout brought his gaze back to her face. She couldn’t wipe away the tear track, but no more followed. Her teeth clenched, and her jaw set stubbornly. “I want this, Luka. The chair might even help. Look, if I do this”—she hooked first one leg over a chair arm, then the other—“you’ll barely have to touch me. This could work.”
Her ass was on the edge of the chair, her legs spread wide open. She looked like some kind of naked sacrifice, and it should have worked to calm his body.
But his erection ached, and all he could remember was the way it had felt when he’d come. That moment had been one of the few in his life where he’d felt free.
Something Alina never was. His mouth opened to deny her again.
“I love you, Luka.” Her face softened. “I want to do this, just once. I want you to want me. Prove that you do.” She licked her lips, her gaze dropping below his belt. “Take off your clothes. It’s only fair. I don’t want to be the only one naked.” She swallowed. “Please.”
He hesitated, but like when she’d asked before, he wanted to obey her. And she was right. She shouldn’t be the only one vulnerable in that way. She stared at him much more intently this time. He dropped his shirts to the floor, and her gaze made him shake as it slipped over his arms and then his chest and down. Her eyes stopped as she stared at his side, and the chain of her cuffs rattled as if she wanted to reach for him.
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
Luka had forgotten about the burn. He looked down at himself, but the blood had dried. The bullet had seared more than pierced. “It’s fine.”
“You getting hurt is not fine,” Alina said. “Not in any way. We should treat that. We should…” Her words trailed away when Luka worked on his pants. They were quick enough to remove along with the underwear beneath them. Both pooled around his shoes, which he had forgotten. The air swirled around his erection, making it more sensitive. Her gaze on it doubled the ache.
He had to sit on the bed to remove everything completely. Then he was back on his feet, but he didn’t dare draw closer to her. He wanted to too much.
Alina wasn’t looking away, and it gave him more reason to stare back. Looking at her body made him out of breath, as if the nerves inside of him would split him apart.
He wanted her. He wanted to find out what it felt like to be a part of her.
“Please, Luka,” her voice held a huskiness that multiplied the tingles over his body. “You’ve touched me before. Don’t make me beg you to do it again.” Her lip trembled. “I can’t beg.”
He’d left his gloves on. There would be at least one layer between them, he told himself. Her body looked so breakable and delicate in the lamplight. He shifted closer, leaning over her.
Luka wanted to start with a touch that no longer hurt him at all, even without his gloves. His hand curled around her wrist, but he frowned at the tickle of the fur and the clink of the metal, so different from what he was used to.
Beneath his fingers, her trembling was more apparent. The realization stabbed into his chest.
“Key,” he said, his words hard.
“No, Luka. No!” Her body tried to surge toward his, but he pressed his other hand against her stomach. Tremors were running through her there as well, and his touch gentled, but her body had already frozen.
Alina was scared despite what she said.
Luka never wanted to scare her. “Key.”
She swallowed, looking away. “It’s under the chair,” she admitted. Then she started to cry.
He had to release her to duck down and feel under the edge of the chair. The metal was easy to find, and his fingers slid it free.
Alina had already unwound her legs from over the chair arm and curled into herself. He released her hands as quickly as he could, his own encircling her wrist gently before pulling her against his bare chest.
He couldn’t prevent the sudden hiss of his breath. There was pain where they pressed together, but heat was present too. And something else. Something sweet and warm more than hot.
He lifted her and shifted to the bed. The flesh-on-flesh contact was too much, and he used one hand to brace himself so his body hovered over hers. His fingers massaged her wrist, as if he could erase her memory of the handcuffs against her skin.
“I’m sorry. I thought that could work.” Choked sobs slid between her words.
He wished he could say something to soothe her. All he could do was stroke his fingers over the pulse in her wrist, which was still too fast.
“You’re going to leave, and it’ll have never happened. I just know it.” Her vibrant, green eyes shimmered with tears.
