Page 17 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

"That man, he's driven by his instincts, sure. But he'd also need to see just how much of a price he could put on you. You know, sample the goods. Break you in himself and have a damn good time doing it."

He leaned in to say these words against my throat, his face shifting upward, like he was smelling my fear—or sniffing forsomething else. I licked my lips despite myself, shutting my eyes, and all I could think about was his hot touch roaming my thighs, how his hand was shifting between us to stroke the fronts of my thighs. I squirmed and clamped my legs together.

Nikita laughed in my face, and I flinched like he had slapped me.

"No matter how many times your mouth and body told him no, he wouldn't stop, not until he explored every hole you have to offer."

A single finger touched just above my sex and trailed upward, making me jerk and gasp again. My body was on fire for him, and I could feel the heat pooling between my legs. I hated him.

But what I hated more was I wanted him to keep touching me.

"Now, would you rather stay here and do as I say, or should I throw you to that dog and let him have his way with you?" Nikita barked and shook my head for emphasis, his lips close to my ear.

I gritted my teeth as his hand spread over my stomach, reaching for my ribs, and I felt my back arch into his grip.

"I want to stay with you," I said firmly, annoyance etching into my face. "Keep me here, but don't restrict my movements. This mansion is all I have if I can't go outside."

"You think you can tell me what to do?" He scoffed, and his hand passed up my chest, eliciting a hiss from my lips. I had to choke down the moan as his fingers passed over my stiff nipple. "You think I'll let you just waltz around where you like?"

I swallowed hard and opened my eyes. I fixed him with a glare, which only made him smile.

"Try and stop me," I dared, and I meant every word. I knew he could stop me, easily, but I wasn't going to roll over and let him have his way without a fight.

And a part of me wanted to find out what he'd do.

The amusement died in his eyes, and all at once, he stopped touching my body, even releasing my throat. I took in a deep breath but couldn't step away from him. It was like I was locked in place, not wanting to be away from the heat his body offered me.

Slowly, he raised a hand to my face, then stroked my cheek with a tenderness that nearly vibrated with an underlying restraint. His eyes told me what he wouldn't say—I was treading ground no one dared to, and he was debating whether to crush me right then and there.

My lips parted, and his gaze shifted immediately. A sudden sharp hunger filled his expression, and I opened my mouth wider, unknown words on the tip of my tongue.

"Keep it up, Lily," he finally whispered, his eyes never leaving my lips. "Keep testing me, and I'll break you in myself."

As I lay in my bed later that evening, Nikita's words filled my head.

I'll break you in myself.

A shiver ran over my body, and a powerful need threatened to overtake me. Just like when he first said it, my body started to feel weak. I had wanted to melt into his arms and let him make good on his promise.

But what was happening to me?

My thoughts drifted back to Alexei. It was impossible not to think of him, especially during moments when I felt so lost, so unsure of where I stood.

Alexei had been everything to me. He was my anchor, the one person who had made me feel safe in a world that often felt chaotic. We had met young, our connection immediate andintense. He had this warmth about him, a lightness that made me feel like I could breathe freely around him. He wasn't like the men I had known growing up—men who wielded power like a weapon, men like my father. No, Alexei had been different. He was gentle, patient, always looking out for me in a way that made me feel seen, understood.

And then he was gone.

I still remember the night it happened, the way the world had shifted on its axis, leaving me adrift in the aftermath. The phone call had come late, waking me from a restless sleep. The voice on the other end of the line was calm, almost indifferent, as it delivered the news. Alexei had been killed. An "accident," they said, though I knew better. There were no accidents in the world he had found himself tangled in, no random tragedies. It was deliberate. Calculated.

I had been told not to ask questions, not to dig too deep into the circumstances of his death. But I couldn't let it go. I couldn't accept that Alexei was just gone, that his life had been taken from him so senselessly. Only my father would point me in the right direction. That's why I was here, in this mansion, playing the role of Nikita Volkov's wife. I needed answers. I needed to avenge Alexei's death and make his murderer pay.

That need for revenge had fueled me for so long, kept me moving forward even when everything felt impossible. But now, being here with Nikita, something had shifted. The more time I spent with him, the more I found myself questioning everything—my mission, my emotions, even my own resolve.

Because Nikita presented an obstacle I hadn't anticipated.

He was cold, yes. Ruthless. But there was something else beneath the surface. He could be alluring, in his own way. Protective. And that was what unnerved me the most. I had seen his cruelty, the way he commanded fear and respect from thosearound him, but I had also seen flashes of something in him that made me hunger for more.

I hadn't wanted to admit it.

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