Page 85 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

I’m finding it harder and harder to keep my walls up around him.

But I can’t submit to him. I have too much pride.

“I’ll check it out,” I say. “But nothing more. I’m not going to get on my knees for you, understood?”

His only reply is a smug grin.

“You will wear this.” Aleksander hands me a dress that’s black and slinky. I know I would look good in it. Naturally, I want to snap at him for telling me what to do.

But I also kind of like that he’s taking the choice away from me.

When I was single, I would agonize for hours about what to wear. Now, I can just wear what he tells me without thinking about it.

I take the dress and head for the bathroom when he stops me. “I want you to change into it before me,” he instructs.

I meet his eyes. His striking, blue eyes that somehow know what goes on in my mind. That’s what makes Aleksander so dangerous.

I would rather die than show him I’m afraid to change before him. If he wants to see me naked, then I’m going to blow his mind.

I slip my current dress off, letting it pool around my feet. He takes in my bra and underwear, his eyes darkening. It reminds me of what he did last night, and a sudden arousal shoots itself through my body. I’m tingling. I’m more awake than I’ve ever been before.

“Your bra and panties, too.”

I suck in a sharp breath. He wants me to go without my undergarments for the night. I’ll be exposed. I’ll be vulnerable.

I’ve worked hard to never be vulnerable again.

“Viktoriya,” he says.

For some reason, my hands move to my bra clasp, and I undo it, letting it fall to the ground. Next, I remove my underwear. Aleksander looks me over like he could eat me again. I think I want him to.

I slip the black dress on.

“Here.” He hands me a pair of black heels, and I put them, knowing they make my legs look great. I always did have the best legs out of my sisters. It’s what made me such a good ballet dancer.

I’ll be one again someday. I promise myself that.

But the pain of not dancing doesn’t hit me as hard as it usually does.

Aleksander smiles. “We’re ready to go.”

The BDSM club is hidden within another building, almost like a speakeasy. As I step inside, my breath catches in my throat at the sight before me. Men and women controlling other men and women. People crawling on their hands and knees. Some people have gags in their mouths. Others are blindfolded. There are people in half-undress, letting themselves get groped by other people.

A woman walks by wearing a tight leather outfit and winks at me. I keep my head held high even though all I want to do is avert my gaze. This isn’t the life I’m used to. I’m used to glamor. To riches. To elegance.

Not to raunchiness. To forbidden things. Tosex.

There’s a hallway that Aleksander leads me down with windows that look into bedrooms where people are having sex. A woman is getting spanked, and I’m reminded of when Aleksander did that to me.

I remember hating him for it.

But I also remember strangely liking it.

In another room, a man crawls along the floor to a woman standing over him. She jams her heel into his back, making him cry out—in pain or pleasure, though, I can’t tell.

“I never knew places like this existed,” I admit.

“You were sheltered. I would be more surprised if you did know.”

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