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The car stopped, and Dve got out, leaving us alone.
“Is that fucking clear?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good girl.”
I stepped out of the car, anticipation building inside me.
Tonight would be a night to remember. I could already feel it.
“Pomoch’ yey. U neye ranena noga. Help her. Her leg is injured.” I told the guards before opening the main door. “Yesli ty prikosnesh’sya k ney nepodobayushchim obrazom, ya pererezhu tebe gorlo. If y’all touch her inappropriately, I will cut your throat.”
Chapter
Sixteen
“But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.
And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.”
? Rachel C. Lewis
Sofiya
Making my way to my room, flanked by two imposing guards who refused to assist me despite my injured leg, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking toward my doom as the velvety carpet muffled my footsteps.
Mentally drained from the day’s chaos, I rushed into the bathroom to wash away the thick layer of mud clinging to my skin.
Stripping off my clothes, I winced at the numerous cuts on my leg and stomach.
Craving the soothing embrace of warm water, I cranked up the temperature and allowed the steaming cascade to wash over me, calming my aching body with each droplet.
For a fleeting moment, I lost myself in the warmth of the water.
But in an instant, memories flooded back—Volk’s lips trailing over my skin, his breath against my ear, and the electric thrill that coursed through me at his touch. It ignited a fire within me, a mix of desire and frustration that left me breathless.
As the memories consumed me, I felt absolutely torn.
It wasn’t just passion; it was also the memory of his insults and humiliations.
The thought of being drawn to him made my skin crawl, yet the raw attraction simmered beneath the surface. It was a battle between my body and mind, leaving me confused.
Could I give in to desire when my mind screamed in protest?
No.
He is a deranged sadist who relishes tormenting and humiliating me, dredging up painful memories I’d rather forget.
Despite my attraction to him, who he is and what he’s done remain unchanged.
Torn between lust and pride, I let the water rain down, trying to clear my mind.
But thoughts of his rough hands on my skin crept in again and the water intensified everything making me shiver.
I was fighting against a part of me I never knew existed.
Just for a moment, I let myself get swept away by the passion still burning inside me. His touch felt so real—his hands grabbing my breasts, pinching my nipples, caressing my body, kissing my neck, and whispering in my ear. I could almost feel his breath on my skin and the heat of his body pressed against mine.
