Page 29 of Devil's Retribution

My tears were threatening to spill over again. I turned partway away from Viktor, furious with my uncle and myself.

“This cannot be easy for you,” he said almost gently. I nodded mutely, keeping my eyes down. I didn’t want empathy from my kidnapper, from a criminal. I didn’t want him to understand.

I didn’t realize how heavily I was leaning on the counter until he caught my arm. His grip was gentle but firm, he held me until my eyes were open and I had caught my balance again.

“Come on,” he said firmly. “You need to go lie down. I will ensure the boy has something to eat if he gets hungry.”

I stared at him, torn between relief and gratitude and a sense of unreality that I was here playing house with a Russian mobster. But then I sighed and nodded, turning to shuffle toward the room I knew Uncle Charles had kept for me ever since I had left. I didn’t have the energy left to argue.

But once I got into my pajama bottoms and a tank top, I couldn’t sleep. I lay there listening to the rain and the faint sounds from Nick’s game, the sense of unreality, of being at constant risk, leaving me hyperalert even as exhaustion tried to claim me.

Would anything ever be normal again, now that I knew what I did?

***

Someone was in bed with me. Not Nick. Bigger than me, solid, a warm bulk that I nestled against trustingly. I couldn’t see anything in the dark. Not who the person was. Only his sleek, hard body pressing against mine.

Disoriented, I pulled away a little, wondering what was happening. The big man in my bed moved closer, insistently, the heat from his body seeping into mine.

I touched him, trying to figure out who he was, only to feel bare skin and realize the body pressed against mine was naked.

Warm hands started caressing my skin, teasing me awake, making my whole body tingle. Warm lips moved against mine, stealing my breath. I whimpered, confused and dreamy, feeling heat gather between my thighs.

He rolled us over, pressed his weight down on me, his cock into me, the sensation vague pressure and vague heat and growing pleasure and need out of nowhere. We moved together, pain and doubt banished, lost in raw and growing bliss.

As I got closer and closer to cumming my brains out, I saw the darkness lift and his face blur into focus.

It was Viktor.

The shock shook me awake. I opened my eyes to my bedroom in the penthouse, and the sound of Viktor and my little boy chatting as Nick played his game. No danger beyond the usual. No new horror. Nothing had changed.

Certainly, there wasn’t a giant Bratva-leader and kidnapper cuddled up with me between the sheets. That was a relief…

And also a touch disappointing.

There had been something so satisfying about that image of him, and that had shocked me as much as the sight of his face. The man had kidnapped us. He might even be right about my uncle—as horrible as that was to contemplate—but he had still dropped a giant bomb into the middle of our lives, just as much as Uncle Charles had.

I should hate him. I should fear him. Look at what he did. But somehow…

Oh crap, I thought. I knew what it meant when I started having dirty dreams about a guy. Something in me didn’t fear him, wasn’t wary of him. Something in me looked back at the dream and got tingly… and hopeful. Very hopeful. Would he want me as well? Would he be wary of a trick? Would he turn out to be cruel—crueler than my uncle?

That was absolutely the last thing I needed right now. I couldn’t afford to have a crush on my fucking kidnapper. Stockholm syndrome normally takes more than a couple of days to develop, so I put this all down to my traitorous hormones.

I lay there listening to the household sounds, voices, the tap of rain, the hum of fans. It’ll be all right, I told myself. But I didn’t believe it.

I still dropped off again soon enough. I was simply that exhausted, and that starved for the comfort of familiar surroundings. But this time, I didn’t dream.

***

I woke again a few hours later to the smell of takeout Mexican and the sound of more chatting. I lay there listening, hungry but not too eager to get up just yet. After my dream, that would have been too awkward. At least my body had calmed down.

I must be really, really hard up for a good lover if I was having dirty dreams about some mobster whose only interest in me was as collateral against my uncle. I struggled to pull myself together as I dressed. I couldn’t let Viktor find out that I felt this way. No, that would be not only risky, but way too embarrassing. The man was a criminal, a killer. He would only take advantage.

He must never know.

Chapter 13

Viktor