Page 13 of From Russia With Blood

So much blood. The walls and floors were coated with it. Groaning, I screw my eyes shut and slam my fist against the hull, relishing the small bite of pain as my fingers collide with the metal.

Four months. Four fucking months of therapy, and this shit is still happening. Blinking into the dim interior lighting, I’m once again confronted by the fake blood. The more I stare at it, the more cartoony and over-the-top it looks. No one in my position should have ever mistaken it for anything other than what it was.

A cold sweat dampens my brow as I walk away, beelining for the elevators. I just need people and an ass to smack. That’s all. Once I get back into the swing of things, everything will be fine. Who the fuck am I kidding? I don’t just need anyone. I want her. I want her body convulsing around me in the most primal, life-affirming way. Her mouth demanded I take action, and it’s high time I answer that call.

I step off the elevators and make my way towards the noise. To their credit, gone are the trappings from earlier, and in its place is a BDSM extravaganza that would make the most hardcore painslut weep for joy.

At the entrance is a scanner, very similar to what you see in airports, and a bucket with what looks like burner phones. It takes no time for the guy standing guard to scan my band and wave me in. Sneering, I grab the first phone off the top, irritated that I can’t have my own equipment with me. I already feel like I’m at a disadvantage, but now, I feel like I’m going into the lion’s den blind.

Things seem to be already in full swing, but I ignore the expanse of flesh as my eyes drift over the various people before landing on her. Katrina is a vision as a naughty schoolgirl, and for the first time in my life, I wish I had concentrated on teaching training. I was a field agent. I didn't plan on teaching. My goal was to die on a mission and not in an office, and certainly not while wiping the noses of new agents without a thought in their head or cautious bone in their body.

Seeing Katrina’s long legs as they disappear into her short, red, plaid skirt makes me rethink every decision. When I get home, I’m going to retake some of those classes. Movement next to her drags my eyes from her cleavage as it peeks through the barely concealing shirt and onto the person next to her.

Mother fucker. I’d spent a good chunk of the afternoon looking for Luka only to figure he wasn’t even on board. Now, here he is, talking to the one woman I planned on playing with during the trip.

Red tinges my vision as I watch them together, her tinkling laugh buzzing in my ears. But did her mouth even move? The cacophony of the space overwhelms my senses as I stare at them. There’s no way I could hear her laugh. What is going on? Shaking my head, I readjust my toy bag and head their way.

The only thought in my head is getting her away from this monster. I don’t even care if I don’t turn her ass a mottled red. The need to protect what is mine barrels through my limbs, giving me extra speed as I traverse the various bodies and equipment. My steps falter as I back up to give another couple room, nearly tripping over a woman being used as a human footstool. Mumbling half-hearted apologies, I look back up, only to find that she’s gone.

There’s no trace of her - just kinky people playing at kinky games. Did I just imagine all of that? No. There she is. Like a parched man wading through sand to get to a mirage, I change course and stalk towards her, my eyes never leaving them.

The very real fear that I could blink and they’d be gone takes root in my brain, urging me even faster. Rage vibrates my core as I resume my trek over to Luka. Something’s not right here, and the last thing I need is a civilian getting caught between us and whatever demented games he has planned.

“There you are, you naughty, little girl. Did you think I’d forget about our interaction this morning?” Wide eyes, the color of a calm ocean, turn to me, dispelling any other thought. The need to bury myself in her, to claim her before Luka could get his taint all over her, overwhelms my being until it’s narrowed down to her. Just her.

“I didn’t think you’d forget.” Her voice is soft and husky, as if she’d just had a bout of rough sex. The sound goes straight to my groin, filling my cock with blood until I’m rock hard. “Well, that’s a lie, I guess. I didn’t see you, and Mr. Luka -.”

“Master Luka,” he interrupts, slipping his hand out in a gesture of a handshake. Who the fuck is he kidding? He knows exactly who I am. And if he thinks I don’t know that he knows me, then Master Luka is a dumber man than I originally thought. “But who cares about honorifics anyway. Not when this lovely morsel and I haven’t even had a chance to negotiate that.”

“Master Jackson,” I reply, shaking his hand while inching the other around Katrina. Two can play at that game. If he wants to pull out and measure, fine by me. Every vibe she’s giving off is that of someone stuck in a bad situation. I’ve been on enough rescue missions to know. Luka’s hand tightens around my own as his gaze dips to where I’m clutching her.

A monster never misses anything. As soon as his frown starts to furrow his eyebrows, Luka draws back, almost as if he’s conceding. Like that asshole had won her and is giving her up. Nodding, I pull Katrina against my side, noting the way she melts into me. Her body is so cold. If she wasn’t upright and talking, I’d think she was going into shock.

This is definitely the right move. I don’t know what Luka wants with her, but he is not getting another woman. This time, I will protect what’s mine. Closing my eyes, I dispel Gloria’s dark, soulful eyes and instead fill myself with Katrina. I don’t know what it is about her that got her under my skin, but the week it will take to get to Russia is plenty of time to get her out of my system. If Katrina is always underneath me, there’s no way Luka will have a chance at her.

Once we’re in Russia, she’ll have the whole second week to herself without any danger, at least not from Luka. I don’t know much about the other guests, but from what I’ve seen, they’re just harmless kinksters looking for some fun. Gripping her elbow, I lead her over to an empty cross, sending thanks up above for the lack of players in this area.

I turn her around and press her back up against the red, padded leather before jerking her wrist up to me. Luka had his hands on her. I watched as he touched what’s going to be mine until we offboard in Russia. For an insane minute, I dream of nothing but tearing Katrina’s clothes away and marking her in every way, anything to tell Luka to back the fuck off. I know it’s crazy. I know it’s irrational. No woman has ever made me feel like this - not even Gloria - but right now, she’s that itch just under my skin, and I know I’ll claw myself to death just to get at it.

Katrina’s breathing quickens as she watches me, her eyes taking on a tinge of fear. That’s the last thing I want. I never want her to equate the same feelings with me that she did with Luka. Softening my touch, I bring my phone down to her wrist and quickly scan her limits, likes, and dislikes. Most of our wants and needs align, as if she were put on this ship just for me. I can’t imagine another woman being the other half to me like she is.

“Is there anything not listed on here that you don’t want?”

“Water,” she croaks out, her eyes dilating, nearly eating her face. She’s such a cat that way. If eyes are windows to the soul, hers are without shutters.

“Sweetheart, I had to drag you on board this ship. I’d be an idiot to put you anywhere near water.” Her eyes drift to the floor, a small pout pulling at her lips. Yep. I was an idiot. Grabbing her chin in between my index finger and thumb, I force her gaze back to mine. “Thank you for telling me, though,” I add, noting the slight tilt up of her mouth.

Nodding, she chuckles and settles back against the cross, some of the tension finally oozing out of her body. “I saw a scene earlier, and I didn’t like it. I - I just can’t handle some things.”

“And that’s fine,” I reassure her, forcing my tone light. She doesn’t need to know about all the dark fantasies swirling around in my brain. I can work within her limits and still satisfy us both. Besides, some of the things she listed as being curious about, I happen to be an expert in, and I can’t wait to introduce her to the darker side of her desires.

“I really didn’t think you’d come.”

“And miss you dressed up like this? Never. Now then, your limits don’t include most forms of impact play. Care to negotiate that before we get started? I seem to recall owing you for your behavior this morning.”

“You can’t be serious! We didn’t negotiate that!”

I cross my arms, pinning her with the classic Dom stare. To her credit, she doesn’t wither like other subs I’ve had before. It gives me some hope she won’t fall under Luka’s spell. “You’re on a kinky cruise. What did you think was going to happen?”