He takes a drink from the bottle and swallows. “See. Harmless.”
“That’s the last word I’d use to describe anything about you.”
He grins, and it’s unsettling. Like a lion playing with its food. He takes another drink and walks closer.
“What are you doing?” I ask, the panic raising my heart rate again.
Without saying anything, he presses his fingers into the hollows of my cheeks, forcing my mouth to open wide. I fight against my restraints, but he towers over me, leaning closer until his mouth hovers over mine. Then he parts his lips, letting the water trickle into my mouth.
I instinctively swallow, grateful for the relief. The cool liquid soothes my dry mouth, and I lick my lips, trying to moisten them, but there isn’t enough water left.
The guy cocks an eyebrow like he knows exactly what I’m needing. “More?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Please,” I say through gritted teeth, and Jesus fuck, I want to break his nose all over again.
“Good girl,” he coos, making something inside of me preen from the praise.
I expect him to pour the drink directly into my mouth, but he repeats the same process as before. Taking a mouthful and then letting it flow from his mouth to mine. I swear his lips get closer every time he does it, until he’s merely a hair's breadth away from kissing me, and God, I want it. Which isinsane. The guy fuckingkidnappedme, and I’m chained to the ceiling. In no way should I want this guy, but my pussy isdripping.He’s so close I can feel his body heat and smell his cologne. I want to bury mynose in the crook of his neck and slide my tongue over his skin just to see what he tastes like.
The click of a switchblade opening breaks my wandering mind, and a flash of light catches on the wicked-looking knife.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my eyes fixed on the blade.
“Having fun.” He places the tip of the blade against the hollow of my throat and drags the blade slowly over me. It’s cool against my heated skin as it trails towards the strap of my dress. He hooks the edge of the blade under my strap, dragging it up and down the thin piece of material. Teasing it.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
But he just smiles as he pulls the blade through the material.
“You asshole!” I scream. “Do you know how difficult it was to get my hands on this dress?”
“I don’t give a shit, princess.” He slices through the other strap, and the heavy, jewel-encrusted material slinks to the ground, pooling at my feet.
“Holy fuck,” he breathes, and I’d be flattered if I wasn’t seething at my ruined dress.
“Pick it up off the floor, or so help me God, I’ll—”
“What?” He interrupts. “What are you going to do, Echo? Run and tell Daddy? Get all his big, bad men to come and teach me a lesson?” His eyes darken as he brings his hand up to wrap around my throat again. But it’s not threatening. It’s more like he’s just resting it there. “Well, I’ve got fucking news for you, princess, you’re in my house now, and your daddy’s throne isnothingcompared to mine.”
Wow, this guy has an ego. “Do you know how difficult it was to get my hands on that dress? It’s a one of a kind, asshole.”
His fingers squeeze my throat tighter, those calloused fingers rubbing against my sensitive skin. “I don’t give a shit. And nobody talks to me like that.”
“Why?” I snap. “Because you’re the great and powerful Maxim Volkov? Well, I’ve got news for you, honey. I’ve grown up around men like you, men that make you look like nothing more than a wannabe. So let me down from the fucking hook and treat me with the respect I deserve.”
He laughs languidly, which just irritates me even more. It’s a sound that scrapes against the inside of my skull like a knife.
Entitled prick.
Maxim digs the side of his thumb into my split lip, and I wince at the sharp sting. Blood pools beneath his thumb, and he smears it across my lips. His eyes brighten; it’s quite unsettling how wild it makes him look. Like he’s on the cusp of madness and just needs a little push.
Now that’s a tempting urge. I know how dangerous he is, how volatile and unpredictable. I’ve heard the stories, and as I watch his face mere inches from mine, I can almost see the brutality lurking in the depths of his storm-coloured eyes. Calm on the surface but chaos lurking in their depths. I wonder what he looks like when he’s lost control completely.
“So you know who I am? That’s good. Means we don’t have to bother with trivial things like introductions and expectations.”
