Page 11 of Owned By the Mob Boss
A criminal…
I’m his prisoner…
But instead of frightening me, these thoughts send a tingling sensation through my thighs. My heartbeat accelerates.
If he’s a monster, why hasn’t he just taken me? Why did he protect me from Craig? And why is he treating me like I’m something precious to him?
My body is still ablaze. I know what I’m supposed to do right know, but I’ve never done…thatsort of thing.
I’m almost embarrassed at how naïve and innocent I am. What will Viktor think when he finds out?
“Whenhe finds out?” I ask myself, shaking my head.
I’ve been taken prisoner by this man and am still fantasizing about being taken by him?
One of the men guarding my room coughs outside, and I’m instantly aware of the reality of my situation. Viktor is gone, but I’m stuck here in this room, unable to leave until my dad comes up with the funds to buy me back.
And that could be forever…
What if I am stuck here forever?
For some reason, that doesn’t seem all that bad to me.
I can’t say how long it’s been when I finally get up and strip out of my towels, but I can see that the sun out the window has moved. It’s probably midday by now.
There’s a blow-dryer in the bathroom that looks like it cost as much as a car. I stand naked by the sink and go to work on my hair.
My mind is a whirlwind. Visions of Viktor spin around like mini twisters. I should feel terrified, but somehow, I feel safer than ever—damn sure safer than back at home with Dad.
I finish up and turn off the blow-dryer and step back into the bedroom.
And that’s when I see him.
Standing in the door, wearing suit pants and a white tank-top, is Viktor. He’s staring at me, and I’m completely naked.
I should cover myself, but I don’t.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he growls, quickly turning his back to me, and my heart drops.
You don’t want to see me?
I’m quivering all over. Hot pins and needles spread over my body as I stand still as a statue. What do I do?
Viktor’s enormous back and shoulders rise and fall as he draws deep breaths. It’s like he’s gasping, having just run a mile. Maybe he was just beating up a bunch of guys or something?
His enormous fists clench like massive dumbbells at his sides. I can see his veins pulsing through his forearms and biceps.
He’s a far cry from the boys my age I’ve known. My one boyfriend, Josh, was one-fifty soaking wet. We never even kissed. I couldn’t bring myself to. Nothing about him turned me on.
But when I stare at Viktor’s enormity—how he looks like he could tear the entire penthouse down with his bare hands—heat begins to spread between my thighs.
“You don’t have to be sorry, Viktor,” I say softly. “This is your home. I should have been dressed.”
“No.” He shakes his head, still looking away. “This isyourhome now too. I should have knocked before entering.”
He takes a step forward like he’s going to leave the room but stops himself. Then healmostturns back to me but stops himself again. And that’s when I understand.
Viktor wants to look at me, but he’s holding himself back.
