Page 30 of Poisoned Vows

“Do you want something to drink?” His voice is so casual, as if this is nothing. As if he’s enjoying drawing it out.

I clench my teeth, swallowing hard. “No,” I manage. “I’m fine.” I had enough wine at dinner to take the edge off; anything else will only make it harder to keep my composure.

“Suit yourself.” There’s the sound of liquid in a glass, and I resist the urge to turn and satisfy my curiosity as to whether it’s vodka or whisky. I’ll find out soon enough, when he kisses me.

The thought sends another ripple of fearful anticipation down my spine, and I grit my teeth against it.I don’t want this. I don’t want any of it.That moment when he slipped his fingers under my skirt and I was slick with desire for him, when he kissed me in front of the fire and I wanted more, that wasn’t me. It wasn’t because Iwantedit.

That’s what I tell myself. But as I hear his footsteps across the carpet, feel his presence behind me, the quick beat of my heart in my chest threatens to betray that.

His hands settle on my waist, the only part of him touching me so far. “It’s just us now, little rabbit,” he murmurs. “I can make this good for you, if you’ll let me.”

Acid leaps to my tongue before I can stop it, the anger in the words as much for myself as for him. “I don’twantit to be good,” I hiss, still facing away from him. “I don’t wantyou. I don’t want any of this.”

“We’ll see.” His fingers stroke my waist through the silk, slow and patient, and my heart sinks.

I’d hoped he’d be too ravenous to go slow, that two weeks of our back-and-forth, of him waiting for something he so clearly wanted, would result in him tearing my dress away and ravishing me like a kidnapper in an old Harlequin romance. That he’d fuck me hard and fast, and it would probably hurt, but it would be over just as quickly. That he wouldn’t have time to make my body betray me. That he wouldn’t be able to make me want it, because of his own greed.

But it’s clear that Nikolai is controlling himself—perhaps even enjoying making himself wait a little longer. His fingers stroke my waist for a moment more before he reaches up with one hand, brushing my hair lightly away from the back of my neck with a flick of his fingers.

“You’re mine now, pretty rabbit,” he murmurs. “I can have you as many times as I like. If you don’t like it the first time, there’s always the second, or the third. I’ve never had a virgin before, but I hear it takes some time to warm up to it.”

“You’ll be waiting until hell freezes over,” I snap, keeping my gaze fixed on the city lights beyond. “I already told you. I know you’re going to fuck me. You can’t make me want it.”

He chuckles, trailing his fingertips down the back of my neck. My skin pebbles under his touch, and he laughs again, low and dark. “Oh? Can’t I?”

“It’s cold in here.”

“Of course.” His fingers drift lower, toying with the top button of my dress. “The sooner you’re out of this and in bed, the sooner we can heat things up.”

The first button comes loose. Another, and another. His fingers brush over my spine with each one, lower and lower, and I feel my skin prickle and my breath catch. I’m lying—I’m not cold at all. My skin is flushing with heat, the unfamiliar sensations tingling over my flesh as it’s exposed bit by bit. I’m suddenly very afraid that I’ll lose the battle even sooner than I originally feared.

I hate Nikolai Vasilev with everything in me. I do. But somehow, he makes me respond to him so easily.

When the dress is open to the small of my back, he reaches up, gently sliding the straps off of my shoulders, his fingers tracing my collarbones, the tops of my shoulders, as he pushes the silk away.

The draped neckline falls, catching on my stiffened nipples as it slides away, and I hear his low groan of pleasure as the dress falls to my hips. “So little underneath it. And all for me.”

“Lines under the dress would have ruined it,” I snipe, wanting desperately to break the moment, to keep him from drawing me under with that smoky voice, the sound of it wrapping around me and making me want to melt into it.

“That would have been a shame.” His hands dip beneath the silk against my hipbones, fingers tracing around to the small of my back. I sink my teeth into my lower lip, hard enough to taste blood, refusing to do anything that might make him think I’m enjoying this. I refuse to gasp, refuse to moan. And then I feel his fingers wrap around the open sides of the dress.

His lips brush against the shell of my ear, his knuckles pressing into the flesh of my sides. “I was always going to ruin the dress, little rabbit.”

And then heripsit.

It tears easily down the back, buttons flying across the carpet as the remainder of the dress comes apart, fluttering down around my feet. I’m left standing in nothing but the lacy thong, a gasp torn from my lips despite myself, my heart pounding in my chest.

Nikolai grabs my waist, and turns me to face him.

His gaze is dark and stormy, filled with a lust that terrifies me and heats my blood at the same time. I don’twantto be aroused by it, but there’s a magnetism to him, a beautiful violence that threatens to drag me down like an undertow, and I’m flailing to keep my head above water as he pulls me to him.

He’s still fully dressed, aside from the jacket and tie he’d shed when he got his drink. I feel more vulnerable than ever, nearly naked, as he pulls me closer, one hand leaving my waist to take my chin in his fingers, keeping me from looking away.

“I’m not going to let you close your eyes and hurry through this,krolik,” he murmurs. “You’re going to remember every second of tonight.”

Why? I want so desperately to ask it, but I can’t make my mouth form the word. I can’t make myself say anything at all. My throat feels closed over, and as his hand slides into my hair, his fist knotting in it as he drags my mouth to his.

Whisky. It was whisky in the glass. I taste it on his lips as he presses them to mine, his fist against the back of my head as he kisses me.

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