Page 24 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

But what did he know about any of that?

"Afraid of what?" I scoffed.

Then Nikita was upon me at once, striking toward me like lightning so fast that I gasped—but didn't have time to react. His hands gripped my upper arms hard, and he shoved his face close to mine. The musky, manly scent of him assaulted my senses, and I breathed him in deeply.

I had missed the fresh scent of him.

"That's what I wonder about," he whispered as his hands started to roughly roam my body—over my back, down to my ass, squeezing and groping.

It was like he was trying to remind me that I was his, that I had told him I was his. And although my body screamed to crash against his again, I held back, keeping my form rigid, maintaining the small bit of distance between us.

I couldn't give in. I didn't know what it would do to me.

"What's got you running? Why? Where do you think you can run, huh?"

His whispers continued, his touch growing more demanding, and I turned my head away, whipping my hair into his face. His hand was on my jaw in a flash, gently turning me back to him. And to my horror, he wrenched my body forward against his hard frame.

I let out a shuddering breath. It felt too good.

"You don't get to run away. You don't get to pull away or do anything without my permission."

Nikita guided my eyes up to his, and I almost gasped as our eyes locked.

I couldn't be sure, but I thought I detected something like fear flicker in his eyes, some hint of anxiety, and something clicked inside of me. This show of possession, it couldn't just be about control. He was here forcefully breaking down my walls for many reasons, some I probably couldn't ever guess, but one for sure.

He didn't want to lose me, didn't want to take a step backward from what happened between us in this very room.

But before I could unpack what that meant, his hand was gathering up my hair into his fist.

"Are you listening to me?" he demanded. "Do I need to make you listen?"

I almost melted, my mouth opening to release the moan of longing that rippled through me, but his lips muffled the sound I didn't want him to hear, and all at once, all the tension left my body. His arms wrapped around me as he felt the change, supporting my limp body, telling me I didn't have to keep fighting anymore.

And I didn't want to. All the guilt, the conflict, it didn't matter.

God, I wanted to be his.

Just as I was losing myself to the kiss, Nikita broke away and whipped me around, pushing me toward the window I had beenlooking out of. I stumbled, unsure of what he wanted me to do, and latched my hands onto the windowsill.

"Nikita—"

"You think you can run away from me, that's your problem," he growled, cutting me off.

Then his hand came down sharply on my ass.

The crack seemed to fill the room. I was too shocked to even utter a sound. My mouth just hung agape—I could see my reflection in the window.

"You think you can back out of this, don't you? Didn't you agree to be mine?"

He spanked me again, and this time, I cried out, my breath fogging up the window. The sharp sting came again, and I let the pain flow into me, a sick part of me loving the roughness of him.

He was punishing me.

I bit into my lip and arched my ass out toward him, shooting him a look over my shoulder. I didn't know if he saw the plea in my eyes, the silent request to give me another spank, to punish me for being so foolish as to think I could possibly run away from whatever was erupting between us. But he obliged with a growl, and I yelped louder, letting the momentum press my chest against the cool glass of the window.

"This is mine, all mine. You want proof?"

Nikita hiked my skirt up over my ass, making the tight fabric settle over my hips. I hissed at the sudden exposure and looked out onto his property with a panic. No one was around—for now.

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