I slumbered next to the man who promised freedom yet imprisoned me.
Life experience hadn't prepared me for this—the aftermath of a violent, claiming encounter. What was the protocol?
Should I have fled immediately?
I'd tried. He refused.
Did he expect me to stay or…wait…why the hell did I care what he wanted?
I needed to leave. That was my decision to make.
Artem slept deeply.
No snores escaped him, just deep, even breaths.
Good enough.
I peeled back the covers, my skin instantly mourning the loss of their warmth as I swung my legs over the mattress edge. All I needed was to ghost across this room, grab my clothes and shoes, dress by the front door, and disappear...at least until he woke and decided what prize to claim tomorrow.
Tomorrow's problems could wait for tomorrow.
My toes barely grazed the plush carpet when his arm snaked around my waist and yanked me back into the bed.
"Where do you think you're going,moya ptashka?" Artem's voice rumbled, thick with sleep.
His little bird. His caged little bird, more likely.
I twisted against his hold. "To the apartment." Not home. Never home.
"No."
One word. Justno. No reason, no explanation, no stated desire. Just refusal.
"It wasn't a question, Artem," I tossed back, struggling against his heat.
"No, it wasn't," he snarled, sliding his palm from my stomach to my breast, pinching my nipple.
He flung the blankets over us, cocooning me in soft heat, and crushed me against his body.
Naked skin pressed against my back, somehow more intimate than everything we'd done before. Perhaps because now, I wasn't the only one exposed and vulnerable.
"Artem, you made your point. Now release me." The temptation to melt into his embrace beckoned. So easy to lose myself in his touch, but what if I drowned there? What if I vanished into him completely? That possibility thrilled and terrified me equally.
"If I'd made my point, you'd know you're not leaving. Not tonight." His lips branded my shoulder as his arm encircled me, flipping me onto my back. "Let me show you how good girls earn rewards."
"Artem, I want to go home," I insisted as he loomed over me.
His weight pinned me; the satin heat of his skin against mine, the thickening length of his hardening cock pressing into me, created a treacherous comfort.
Silence answered me as he captured my lips in a slow, penetrating kiss.
This kiss transformed everything.
Power and control vanished.
No punishment, no brutality, no dominance games.
Artem explored me, studied me, fingers skimming down my body. He paused only to knead my breast while his tongue massaged mine, sending pleasure cascading through my body, fogging my mind with need.
