Page 76 of Poisoned Vows

“I don’t think you can do it.” Lilliana meets my gaze, that hollow expression still lingering on her face. “Your father had security. Power. Everything you have. And we found him rotting in his office. I think mine has found an upper hand over you, and now he’ll get what he wants. And at the end of the day, itismy fault, even if I didn’t know about it—because I was the key. I was used, but I still opened the door. So why would you let me go? This is the end of everything he’s been plotting for years, and I was what made you and your father agree to let him in.”

“Iwilldo it.” I look at her evenly, wanting her to understand that it’s not a matter ofif. That revenge against her father isn’t something I’ll leave up to chance, or the rescue of my sister. It will happen, however I need to accomplish it.

Lilliana shakes her head. “Fine. You know what? If you manage it—”

She steps a little closer to me, and then closer still, close enough for me to smell the scent of her skin, sweet soap, and a little sweat. A scent that makes my cock twitch in my pants, and my mind briefly flip to ideas of bending her over the railing, her knuckles turning white from clenching it while I pound into her, making her scream her pleasure out over the Chicago skyline. The image does more than make me twitch. I feel my cock swell, throbbing against my thigh, and it takes all my self-control and resolve not to reach out and touch her.

“If you manage it,” she says softly, “I’ll give you what you want. A night where I pretend to be entirely yours. I’ll moan your name and beg for your cock and plead for you to make me come. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll be your good little rabbit. How does that sound, Nikolai?”

She almost purrs my name, her hand on the railing suddenly very close to mine, and I’m rock-hard, the ache spreading through me until I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to walk away from her without having sunk myself inside of her at least once more.

But I don’t want her pretense. I don’t want any more lies, and I don’t want to hurt her any longer—Ineverwanted to hurt her in the first place.

“No,” I tell her quietly, and her eyes widen.

“No? Is that not what you want now?”

“It’s not good enough.” I see the startled look on her face, and I keep going, talking more quickly before she can interrupt me or get the wrong idea. “I want that to be a reality,krolik, not a game you play for me.”

I step a little closer, close enough that our bodies are almost touching, but not quite. She looks up at me, those blue eyes widening, and I think to myself that I’ve never in my life seen a woman as beautiful as she is.

How did I not see how perfect she is for me until now? How perfect—sheis?

I reach out, brushing a lock of blonde hair gently away from her face. “I want you to moan my name because you’re aching for me,krolik. I want you to plead for my cock because you can’t bear to go a moment longer without me filling you up. I want you to beg for my tongue on your pussy because you need me to make you come so badly that you can’t stand it. I want all of that to be real. And if it’s not real, little rabbit, then I don’t want it.”

I whisper that last, leaning forward so that my lips brush against the shell of her ear, and then I pull back, still looking down at her, close enough to touch.

“I want you forever, Lilliana,” I tell her gently, and I do touch her then, the ghost of my fingertips brushing against her cheek. I’ve never touched her so gently, and I can feel the shiver that goes through her. “Knowing who you are only makes me want you more. Knowing what you’ve been through makes me see you in a different light. I haven’t done anything yet to deserve you. So it’s time for me to try.”

My hand presses against her cheek, feeling her warmth sinking into my skin. I lean forward, my lips against hers, and I ignore the ache in my cock, the throbbing, urgent need to spin her around and take her, to fill her up with my cum, to make her mine again and again. I focus on the kiss and only that, on her mouth against mine, the soft fullness of her lips—the way I feel them part for me, her body softening towards mine despite herself. I feel the hot, wet brush of her tongue against mine, feel her tremble, hear the tiny sound in the back of her throat, andgod, I’m so hard that it hurts. But all I do is kiss her, my hand touching her cheek.

I feel her arch towards me. I could push, and I think she would give in. I think—no, Iknowthat she wants me, despite what she says. I know that it wouldn’t take much to make her go over that line.

But I want her to walk towards me instead.

So I pull away, taking a step back and another, until I can no longer touch her if I wanted to.

“The next time I touch you like that,krolik—the next time I take you to bed, it will be because you want me,” I tell her.

And then, before she can say a word, I turn and walk away.

The next time I see her, it will be with her father’s blood on my hands and the proof of his demise to show her.

—

Everything is a blur.

I have bursts of memory as I come back to consciousness—the moment when the one alarm that my hackers missed went off, the sound of shouts and gunshots, and the sight of the trusted men I had with me crumpling to the concrete floor. Knowing I was outnumbered, that Lilliana’s father had managed to outmaneuver not only my father but me—and the blind rage that came with that.

I’d fought hard not to let them take me. But it still ended up the same way. And I know what’s coming even before I wake up to the pain of the impact against my face, enough to jolt a man out of a deep sleep—and me out of black unconsciousness.

I’ve tortured enough men that it takes only a moment, after the initial burst, to understand what happened. A fist to my jaw, hard enough to loosen teeth, to break the skin at the corner of my mouth from a ring on the hand that struck me. I know, because I’ve done it before. But I’ve never been on the receiving end, not like this. Not restrained, in the dark, the taste of blood in my mouth where a moment before there was only unconscious nothingness.

A light comes on. Bright, overhead. Glaring. I know this tactic, too. The shock of it, turning everything into sharp focus all of a sudden. A face looming over me, that same hand in my hair. I twist against the restraints and feel leather creaking against my skin. Straps, holding me to a chair.

Looking sideways, I see the all-too-familiar worktable of implements. The thin knives, the rough-edged hand grater, the tried and true pliers, the battery cables. Another leather strap, and I wince, remembering how roughly I’d once applied one of those to Lilliana, under the guise of an acceptable punishment.

The man looming over me is Lilliana’s father. I recognize him immediately, even with my eyes still adjusting to the abrupt light. I sneer up at him, refusing to let him see that anything about that hurt me.

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