Page 31 of Kidnapped Bride

"Stop talking," I spat as the tears burned at my eyes. I couldn't listen to him say things about my father, even if somewhere deep in my gut, a tiny voice was whispering that it tracked with everything I already knew. My father was ruthless. He always had been. I just never imagined his ruthlessness extended to me.

Niko didn't say anything else and after a few minutes, his breathing deepened and evened out. I listened to him as I tried to make my heart not feel so devastated by my father's actions. It was inevitable that this day would come, where I felt deserted by him or abandoned. My mother told me years ago and promised me that when that day came and I asked her to help me, she'd be there.

But she deserted me too, left me for months on end, and honestly, I didn't know how to admit that she'd been right allalong. I ached to hear her voice now, but there wasn’t a chance in hell Niko would let me go so I could be with her. I'd have to get away from him, and right now might be the perfect chance.

I counted his breaths for five solid minutes to make sure he was really under. Then I replayed him walking in and tried to remember the sound of the door. He'd opened it, stepped through, and pulled it shut behind him. But I couldn't remember the click of the lock. I'd been so focused on faking sleep and so rattled by his climbing into bed that I missed the one detail that actually mattered.

If the door was unlocked then the hallway was right there… and the stairs… and the front door was at the bottom just waiting to be opened.

I didn't let myself think about it too hard because overthinking would keep me planted in this bed and too scared to move. So I peeled the covers back slowly, an inch at a time, and swung my legs over the edge. The floor was cold and I stood there for a long second making sure his breathing hadn't changed. In order for this to work, I had to get out of his house before he even woke up.

I crossed the room carefully, barely making any sound at all, and when I opened the door, I paused for a few seconds just to make sure he didn't stir. My heart surged as I eased the door open just enough to slip through.

The house was dead quiet and I was free. Though, I only had these boxers and the thin T-shirt, but I'd gladly walk through Midtown like this if it meant going home and away from him.

I tiptoed toward the stairs, keeping close to the wall, placing each foot carefully. Every settle of the house made me freeze, but the farther I got from his door, the faster I went. I was almostrunning when a hand clamped over my mouth from behind and an arm locked around my waist and yanked me off the floor.

"What are you doing?" Nikolai growled into my ear.

I screamed into his palm but the sound went nowhere. He dragged me backward with my feet kicking and my fingernails clawing and he didn't even flinch.

"And to think I was trying to be nice to you…" He dropped me just inside his room as he turned and opened the drawer next to the bed. He pulled something out I couldn't see, but I assumed it was a key when he went to the door and I heard clicking.

I scrambled backward and he stood at the foot of the bed as the first tears spilled over my eyelids, and when he hung the key around his neck on a chain, I knew my escape attempts were over for tonight.

"Come to bed… Let me hold you," he grumbled, and it didn't sound like an invitation at all.

I would've much rather slept on the floor without him, but he took my hand and pressed a kiss to my cheek, saying, "Please."

I was really beginning to get confused by this man, and anger seemed a better self-defense than vulnerability.

9

NIKOLAI

I had her back in bed before she could even think about fighting me again. Kira twisted under me the second her back hit the mattress, with sharp elbows and furious little kicks. Her nails raked down my forearm as she tried to shove me off, but I was already settled between her thighs, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand.

The thin T-shirt she was wearing had ridden up, and my boxers were twisted around her hips. She was breathing hard, chest heaving, eyes blazing with that perfect mix of hatred and heat I couldn’t get enough of.

“Get the fuck off me,” she hissed, bucking her hips, but it only ground her pelvis against my dick, turning me on.

I leaned down until my mouth was right beside her ear. “I said I was trying to be nice.”

“I don’t want you to be nice,” she snapped, turning her face away. But her body didn’t get the message. Her thighs clenched around my waist like she was torn between shoving me away and pulling me closer.

I shifted my weight, letting her feel exactly how hard I was for her. All this wrestling around had stirred me up and after sitting in my office drinking, thinking about coming to bed to this, I couldn’t fight it anymore. A small, involuntary sound escaped her throat before she clamped her lips shut. I smiled against her skin.

“You’re lying to both of us right now.”

“Fuck you." She yanked at her wrists, but I held them steady. With my free hand I traced the edge of the T-shirt, sliding my fingers underneath to brush the soft skin of her stomach. She jerked like I'd burned her.

“Don’t,” she warned, but there was a tremble in her voice that wasn’t there a second ago.

I dragged my fingertips higher until I cupped one breast. Her nipple was already tight against my palm. I circled it with my thumb and watched her eyes flutter despite herself.

“Tell me to stop,” I said quietly. “Say it like you mean it, and I will.”

Her breath hitched. She glared up at me, lips parted, cheeks flushed dark, but she couldn't bring herself to tell me to stop. I knew she enjoyed me. I just thought she didn't know how to admit it to herself.