Page 22 of Owned By her Enemy
With his free hand, he brushes his knuckles over my cheek.
“Now, little songbird. Listen to me.”
9
NIKOLAI
It takes her a second, but she realises she’s caught.
“You arsehole,” she spits.
Despite her struggling, she can’t get away and she doesn’t use the knife still clutched in her fingers. She could cut my hands, but is deciding not to. My cock is pressed right onto her most sensitive flesh. And she’s so wet. Deliciously turned on.
“Are you going to rape me?” The words and her eyes are defiant, but there’s a thread of fear in her voice. A tremor.
“My beautiful girl. As though I’d let you off so easily. I’ve told you before, if you want my cock, you’ll have to beg. All this cream is a good start.” I flex my hips, shifting against her to emphasise how slippery it is between us, then reach up to her forehead and stroke my thumb over her downy hairline. “But I need your mind too. Your pretty words. You have to tell me you can’t live another minute without me inside you.”
“I won’t break.”
Not the way I’d put it, but there you go. “You will.”
I pray I’m right. I love her far too much to release her.
“I hate you.” But she can’t even find the anger to say it with conviction. It’s more wistful, and as she writhes beneath me, her eyes shut momentarily, and I realise it’s from her beaded nipples rubbing on the rough hair of my chest.
Lowering my head, I swipe my lips over hers. She yields for a fraction of a second before clamping her lips together.
“I didn’t kill your mother.” I draw back so she can see the truth in my expression.
She snorts. “You spied on me. You played me. I don’t know what your game is, Edmonton, but I don’t believe you.”
My game? It’s so simple. The game of love. I want to win her heart.
“What makes you so certain?” My body is still responsive to her, even as we talk. My cock clamours to slip inside her. But I hold back. Her trust has to come first.
“You told me. You said your brother went the same way as my mother. Killed because of the mafia feud.”
I shake my head. “Killed by someone they should have been able to depend on. That was the similarity. I was telling your father I knew.”
She blinks and scowls. “Tottenham killed your brother.”
And I notice that she doesn’t say “we” anymore. She’s disassociated herself from her family’s mafia already. I wonder if her loyalty has shifted, without her even recognising it.
I pause. Will she be disgusted by what I’ve done to protect her? How far my obsession goes?
Ignoring the implied question about my brother, I say mildly, “Tottenham hasn’t been capable of that for a while.”
“Gloating now, are you? You killed my mother, maybe you shouldn’t be so proud of yourself.”
“No, I didn’t.”
She scoffs. “Sure. Or one of you Edmonton bastards did, anyway.”
“Not me, nor any of Edmonton,” I reply patiently. Fuck but she’s a temptation beneath me. My body is held by my self-control on the edge of arousal. “I don’t do that, Lotte. Removal of evidence isn’t my style. Accidents, or outright shootings, but I didn’t have any way to mourn my parents properly. I wouldn’t deny that to anyone else.”
“Oh.” She chews her lip. “You want me to think someone in Tottenham murdered her?”
“Notsomeone. Your father.”
