CHAPTER 9

I start to drop my hand. "Okay, then how do you—"

Suddenly, Timofey snatches my hand out of the air and yanks me towards him. I hit the muscular wall of his torso with a thud. His warm breath coats my skin like honey before I can even catch mine. Then he presses his lips to my cheek

I can't move. Can't breathe. I'm frozen as he kisses one cheek and then moves slowly and purposefully to the other.

Finally, he presses his cheek to mine and brings his lips to the shell of my ear.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Quinn."

***********

TIMOFEY

Piper Quinn smells like mulled wine, sweet and warm.

I can feel her breasts pressing against me with each of her ragged inhales. She's trembling all over, but the usual urge to squash the weakness out of her doesn't come. The opposite, actually: I want to circle my arm around her waist and hold her to me until the shaking stops. I want to bury myself inside of her sweetness and drain the fear from her limbs with firm strokes.

I'm sure the fact that she is pressed against me in nothing but a threadbare tank top and panties has something to do with that.

I let her go, and she scrambles back under the cover of her blankets. Her back is ramrod straight against her iron headboard, knees to her chest. For a flash of a second, I imagine her hands gripping those bars as I drive into her. The noise they'd make banging against the wall. Her mouth parting in a moan.

"Are we done here?" she snaps, drawing me out of my thoughts. She's still shaking, but her face is etched with a deep frown.

I drag my eyes over her disapproving look and then down… down. Her cleavage needs to be kissed. Caressed. Fucked senseless.

"I'm still deciding."

She yanks her blanket up to her neck. "Then I'll help you make up your mind: we're done. Goodbye."

"I'm not sure what about this situation makes you think you have any control here."

"I may have agreed to work for you, but you don't own me, Mr. Viktorov."

She's wrong—I do own her. The fact she is acting like I don't, however, is strangely appealing.

I had no idea how much I enjoyed a little fight until right now.

I kneel on the edge of the bed. Her eyes go wide. "What are you doing?"

I curl my hand around her wrist and raise it over her head, pinning it to one of the metal junctions in her headboard. When I let go, her arm stays there without me even asking.

Slowly, I trail my fingertip over her skin, watching goosebumps erupt in my wake.

Akim was right about one thing: it's been a long time since I've let myself have anything like this.

"It's interesting," I muse, "the way the body reacts to touch. To desire."

A flush creeps up Piper's long neck. I can see her pulse pounding at the base of her throat. I press my thumb there, feeling her life flutter under my touch.

"You don't have to think about it. No one has to tell goosebumps to appear. You don't have to order yourself to blush." I glance down at the comforter covering her lap. "You don't have to convince yourself to get wet."

"Stop." Her voice is firm, but she doesn't lower her arm. Doesn't shift away from my touch or my gaze.

The little stays right where I put her.

I tip her chin up, forcing her eyes to mine. "Control is like that, too. I don't have to tell you that I'm the one calling the shots. Instinctively, deep down, you already know it. Prey doesn't need to be taught to fear the predator. They're born that way."

"I'm not your fucking prey." She jerks suddenly, yanking my hand away from her neck.

In one smooth movement, I reverse the hold so I'm gripping her wrist. I drag her towards me so we're eye-to-eye. The comforter is a puddle around our knees. Our breath mingles, hot and sweet.

"You are," I assure her. "Everyone is. No one controls me; no one questions me. I take what I want, from whoever I want, whenever I want it."

"Like an innocent baby?" she snarks.

I nod. "People, money, power—I can have it all. And when I'm done, they fall to their knees and thank me."

"You'll die before you hear those words from me," she hisses. "I don't kneel to you."

The image of on her knees before me is very fucking enticing. The painful ache in my pants is getting harder and harder to ignore.

But touching her now, before she begs for it, wouldn't serve my purpose.

I rake my gaze over her face before leaning away. "Not yet. You're too busy kneeling for everyone else."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you need a reminder." I slip backwards off the bed and rise to my feet. "Call in sick to work tomorrow. Be at my house at eight."

She frowns. "This nanny job was supposed to be in the evenings. That's what you said. I can't just—"

"You can and you will."

She exhales harshly. "I have responsibilities! I have a life! You can't waltz in and start bossing me around."

"Excellent point. You seem fond of your 'life,' which is why I know you'll do what I tell you."

Her lips pressed together in a flat line. Piper is a fighter, but she recognizes a threat when she hears one. It makes me wonder how many times she's been threatened. And by whom.

My chest churns with the same feeling I felt the night I walked into that alley and saw a man's hand wrapped around her throat.

I wanted to kill him then.

I still might.

She curls her legs underneath her and rests back on her feet. The smooth stretch of her legs and the increasingly low neck of her tank top sends the ache in my chest downward. Need pulses through my core, and fuck do I need to get out of here.

I move to her door and grip the flimsy wood in my hand. I want to break it, if only because I want to break her and I won't allow myself that pleasure yet. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Yes, master," she grumbles.

She's being a brat, but she has no idea how close I am to turning around and ensuring she moans those exact words at the ceiling.

Before I can do anything too stupid, I shove through her door and leave the way I came.