Page 17 of Capturing Victory

“No, Ivan,” she whispered against the pillow, but she didn’t try to move away from him. Her mind still rebelled at the thought of wanting her captor in such a way. “This is wrong. I want to go back to my cage now please.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” he said, shifting his body more heavily on top of hers. “You’re my slave, every part of you belongs to me.”

His words were like a bucket of cold water. She froze beneath him. “Fuck that!” she snapped. “Let me up!”

He gripped her jaw in his hand and forced her to look up at him. “Watch what you say to me, Jaya,” he growled down at her, shifting his body more heavily on top of hers.

“Or what?” she hissed up at him, her face aching around the clench of his fingers. “You’ll torture me? You’ll lock me up? What more are you going to do, Ivan?”

She saw the flash of something truly awful go through his eyes. They were so close to hers that she saw everything. She opened her mouth to cry out, to deny the punishment she saw for herself in those depths, but he slammed his mouth over hers, swallowing her scream. She twisted beneath him, but he captured her wrists and held them easily in one of his large hands, reminding her of how much weaker she was. Reminding her that she’d spent a lifetime trolling the internet while he’d honed every part of his body from his muscles to his mind. She was no match for the marauding conqueror, bent on taking his captive and teaching her how to be a proper slave.

Though she tried her best to fight, there was no possible way to fight a man like Ivan. He was too broad, too skilled and too perceptive. He countered each move she made almost before she made it. She was left gasping and pinned to the bed with nowhere to go. He shoved himself between her legs, thrusting them apart and pushing his hips between. She whimpered into his mouth, giving him the opportunity to push his tongue deeper inside and vanquish new territory. She was swamped in sensations and helpless to fight him off. She could do nothing but feel. Feel his weight on her body. Feel him touch every part of her, invade flesh that hadn’t been stroked in a very long time.

And her body continued to betray her, continued to peak with excitement, to drip with arousal, though she was terrified of the man holding her, forcing her desire. She took her hands, the same that he’d chained with his, and shoved in an attempt to force him away from her. He growled, tore his mouth away from hers and yanked her wrists over her head. He held them in one hand and reached between their bodies to pull her T-shirt up her body, exposing her stomach and then her full breasts.

Jaya’s eyes widened, and her whimpers turned to a cry. “Ivan, please!” she yelled up at him. “Not like this!”

“What then?” he growled, reaching between them, his fingers seeking her panties. “What the fuck do you want from me? Tenderness? Not in my bed, Jaya.”

“Stop!” she shouted, throwing her head back into the pillow.

He took the opportunity to bite her neck, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make her feel him. To draw out the arousal he’d been playing out on her sensitive skin. She cried out and twisted against him as his fingers found their way into her cotton panties and glided along the folds of her vagina. She knew she was well past wet for him. There was no denying her arousal.

He pressed his lips to her ear and snarled, “You want me.”

She turned her head to look at him, uncaring that her nose touched his cheek. “I hate you,” she hissed, trying to inject as much venom as she could in the words.

He pressed one long, thick finger inside. She was tight from years of abstinence. It burned. It hurt. Her stomach clenched with butterflies of anticipation. It felt so damn good she would have bowed right off the bed if he wasn’t laying on top of her. “You’re tight as fuck body says otherwise,” he said, his voice deepening.

“I don’t care what my body does,” she answered, her pussy clenching around his finger. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, Ivan. Please stop,” she sobbed, turning her head into his shoulder.

Something about her plea seemed to reach him. He removed his finger and pulled her up until they were both sitting. Jaya blinked, tears gathering in her eyes. Her body was both buzzing and hurting. She could feel the sexual tension still flowing through Ivan. She wanted to strike out at him for daring to hurt her this way, for holding her captive and making her feel so helpless. Making her worry about imminent rape now on top of everything else he’d done. The sexual frustration, combined with fear and anger made her feel reckless.

“Fuck you, Ivan. You know what you want from me, what your twisted, evil mind wants? Why you can’t just let me go?” She was crying, and she couldn’t even catch the tears because he’d clamped her wrists together in a brutal hold. Her legs were curled beneath her, her T-shirt hiked up past her hips. Her tears dripped onto their hands. The words were spilling from her lips fast and harsh. “You want a connection; a human connection. And for some reason you think you’ll get that with me. But you know something, Ivan? We’ll never connect.”

His fingers squeezed her wrists until she thought the bones might snap under the pressure. She moaned in pain. “And why is that?” he asked coldly.

She gritted her teeth against the agony shooting up her arms and said in as chilling a voice as she could manage, “Because I was being kind when I woke you from your nightmare, I didn’t want you to suffer. Because I understand what it’s like to close your eyes and see your dead family. I have nightmares about mine being blown to pieces all over the Indian consulate. There’s nothing left but blood splatter. Do you know that? No, you don’t. Because instead of letting me comfort you and commiserate, like a normal human, you called me your slave and tried to rape me.” She tugged on her arms and cried out in pain when he finally released her. She cradled her arms against her chest and edged toward the opposite side of the bed, her eyes glued to him. “And that’s why you can never have any kind of human connection, Ivan. You’re an animal.”

They stared at each other for a moment. She didn’t dare move, though she desperately wanted to escape him. She sensed he could go either way, that he wanted to drag her against his body and savagely finish what he’d started a few moments earlier. But something was stopping him. Maybe something in her words. Sympathy perhaps for what she saw when she closed her eyes at night. She didn’t know what kept his hand from reaching for her and she didn’t care as long as he didn’t hurt her again.

“Go,” he ordered harshly.

It was all she needed. She rolled off the bed, rushed around the side like a demon was chasing her and flung herself into the cage, slamming the door shut. She collapsed on her small bed and yanked the blanket up to her shoulders. She pressed shaking fingers over her face and tried to calm down. She knew he wouldn’t change his mind and come after her. Ivan didn’t do that. Still, she nearly leapt right off the bed when she felt something land next to her.

Haty let out a tiny mewl of annoyance when Jaya jerked back. Then she settled her soft little body into her usual spot against Jaya’s stomach, determined to get comfortable for the night. Jaya forced herself to relax and reached an arm out to stroke the kitten’s soft head when Ivan’s deep voice reached out to her from the darkness.

“How far did you get in Wuthering Heights?”

She thought about denying that she’d been reading the book at all, but she knew he would see through the lie. She would only diminish herself in his eyes if she didn’t answer him, play his game. “Heathcliff has left to seek his fortune. Cathy is spending more time with the neighbors,” she said, trying to keep her voice normal but knowing it sounded breathless and sad.

“You want to know what happens to Cathy?” he asked, his voice more of a demand than a question.

Jaya bit her lip and stared hard toward his bed, trying to make out his form. What was he doing? Was this another game? “Tell me,” she said softly, knowing she would regret it. Ivan never did anything nice.

“She dies.” Ivan’s voice was cold and calm, but still urgent, as though he wanted her to understand something important. “Ultimately, Heathcliff’s obsession kills her.”

Chapter Twelve

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