Page 24 of Capturing Victory

His mouth watered and his brain flashed over every scenario that had her bent over the counter with him pounding into her from behind, or her sitting that full, curvy ass on the same counter with him slamming into her while she wrapped her arms and legs around his body, like she’d done in the water when he was saving her life. She owed him. She was his slave. He could do whatever he wanted with her.

She made a small sound of distress and his gaze snapped up to hers. Her eyes were round and worried. He realized that, without thought, he’d gripped her waist so hard, sinking his fingers deep, she would likely have marks. He looked away from her and reminded himself that she’d just been traumatized and, while he fully intended to have her, now wasn’t the right time.

He moved his fingers from her waist to the edge of her panties and tugged them down her legs in one swift move. She jerked back against the counter and made a strangled sound. “Stop, Jaya,” he said gruffly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Th-that’ll be a first,” she snapped between chattering teeth.

He chuckled. “There’s my girl.”

He stood up, towering over her and spun her around so she faced the mirror. She grabbed the counter again and held on for dear life. He unhooked her bra and tugged it down her arms, uncurling her stiff fingers from the granite top and pulling her arms through the straps. She grabbed for the counter again. Unable to resist, he leaned over her and placed his hands next to hers as he buried his face in the crook of her neck and breathed in, inhaling the scent of ocean and Jaya. Her unique scent drew him, drove him wild and called to him. It was warm and spicy with a hint of honey. He couldn’t explain it. But he knew it was there. It had lingered in his bedroom since she’d been moved.

His lifted his gaze to look at her in the mirror. He ignored the wide, frightened eyes, not wanting the shreds of his conscience to wake up too soon. Her long, dark brown hair streamed in drying strands over her shoulders, covering most of her gorgeous breasts. He reached up and pushed the section over her right shoulder, revealing one breast. She made a strangled sound and lifted her hand to cover herself. He captured her wrist and pressed her hand back against the counter. She shook in his arms, the movement now having nothing to do with cold.

“So perfect,” he said, his eyes caressing her in the mirror. Her nipple was stiffly peaked, the aureole a rich brown, almost black colour. Her breast was smooth and brown like the rest of her, but plump and perky at the same time, proclaiming her youth. Another point for his conscience to mull over at a later date. Though he didn’t know her exact age, he did know she was much younger than him. Possibly as many as fifteen years separated them.

“How old are you, Jaya?” he asked, his tone still gentle but demanding.

“Twenty-four,” she whispered.

Yes, fifteen years difference. And for a split second he contemplated the years she had ahead of her. The bright things she could do with her keen intelligence if not tied down by a man intent on holding her so tight the world would never get to see her light again. Then he rejected the thought. She belonged to him.

“I-Ivan,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “What are you going to do?”

His eyes drifted down her rounded belly to the thatch of soft pubic hair. The rest of her was blocked from view. He wanted her more than words could describe. Blood was pumping hard and fast through his veins, proclaiming the woman before him his naked prize, urging him to take her. He bit down on her shoulder, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh, tasting sea, salt and Jaya. She cried out and flinched, trying to squirm away from him. He yanked her back and wrapped his arms around her, allowing himself the luxury of simple touch since that was all he could have at the moment.

He kissed the mark, then lifted his lips from her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Nothing for now, my Victory. But soon… everything.”

Chapter Fifteen

Jaya watched warily as he walked away, leaving her alone in the washroom to shower. Given how strangely protective he’d been acting since pulling her from the water, she was a little surprised, but grateful to have a moment to herself. Deciding to take advantage before he came back, she opened the shower door and stepped inside. She could barely stand once she was inside the cocoon of big frosted glass, a combination of aftershocks from her near drowning and her encounter with her captor sweeping over her. After a moment under the warm spray she was forced to sink to the smooth tile floor. She leaned her back against the glass and sat with her knees against her chest, her forehead on her knees, the hot water streaming over her. It felt amazingly good, though her mind was in turmoil.

The way Ivan had looked at her, touched her, it made her feel intensely alive and aware of her own sexuality. It also made her feel jittery as a grasshopper being chased by Haty. Her hand crept up to her shoulder where he bit her. She felt the slightly sore spot and the indents where his teeth had left marks; it was like he was branding her. She was reminded of when she’d called him an animal. It felt like weeks ago instead of only the night before.

“Better get my ass up or he’ll come looking,” she muttered to herself.

She finished her shower, weariness rocking her limbs. She could barely lift her arms to wash her hair and she decided to skip the conditioner altogether, despite knowing she’d regret it later when the inevitable tangles sent her to hairbrush hell. But it wasn’t worth the ache and burn every time she moved her arms. She’d forced herself to more physical extremes today than she had in her entire life, especially her upper body.

She shut the water off and reached for a fluffy towel, squealing in shock when she was enveloped in one and lifted off her feet. Ivan set her on the bath mat and began drying her vigorously, despite her protests. Then, ignoring her heated arguments, he wrapped the towel back around her and carried her to the bed.

When she saw where he was taking her, Jaya tried to stop him and climb out of his arms. She gripped one of his biceps and twisted sideways, but he just shifted his grip, his hand sliding under the towel and enveloping her bare thigh. “I want to go to my cage!” she yelped desperately.

He didn’t answer, just grunted in annoyance when her elbow connected with the side of his head. He dropped her on the mattress and when she tried to roll off the other side, he grabbed her wrist and twisted until she yelled in pain and held still. He dropped onto the mattress on his knee. “Stop fighting and lay still.”

She froze and stared up at him, a question huge in her eyes. The towel had slipped sideways, revealing most of her upper body. He gripped the edge and tugged it the rest of the way off, tossing it to the floor. A shiver rippled through her, jiggling her breasts. She tried to cross an arm over her chest while groping for a blanket with her other hand. He took both of her wrists and flattened them on the bed beside them.

“This is happening, Jaya,” he said quietly. His voice wasn’t vicious or hard. In fact he was being surprisingly gentle.

“I’m not ready,” she replied quickly, arching to the side. He blocked her with a knee. He was still fully dressed, though her own nudity made her feel so vulnerable it didn’t matter that he was still clothed.

He shook his head. “We’ve spent weeks together, you’re as ready as I’m willing to allow.”

She frowned, her body still tense beneath his. His fingers curled around her wrists, chaining them. She could feel aggression thrumming through his body, ready to strike out at her. Her own body responded with confusion; part of her warmed and melted for him, her pussy beginning to dampen as though it was trained for this moment while her heart hammered and her muscles tensed, preparing for flight. She felt that he was holding himself tightly in check, rather than simply falling on her and fucking her.

“I’ve been your captive, Ivan,” she whispered. “I still am. Having sex under these conditions isn’t right. The power imbalance is too much.”

His lips thinned into a grim line and he moved his thumb to her face, dragging her hand with him. He ran his thumb over her jaw and then down the side of her neck, drawing a cascade of shivers form her. “There will always be a power imbalance between us, sweetheart. Your captivity has nothing to do with that.”

“And you’ll always make decisions for me!” she snapped at him angrily, straining her body against him. “At least until you decide I bore you and it’s time to get rid of me.”

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