Page 62

“Mikhail—”
I try saying again, but the word dies in my mouth as he licks another finger, his gaze never leaving mine.
The contrast of the heat of his tongue against my skin mixed with the coldness of the room sends a jolt through my body, my breathing becoming unsteady.
“You taste so sweet, beauty.”
He says softly, his voice almost teasing as his lips curl into a small smirk.
I hate the way my pulse races in response.
“Stop.”
I manage to whisper, but it sounds so weak, even to my own ears.
Mikhail doesn’t stop.
He takes his time, savouring each finger as though this is another twisted game of his, a test to see how far he can push me. And throughout it all, his eyes remain on mine in the mirror, watching every flicker of emotion that crosses my face.
By the time Mikhail is finished, I’m trembling, each breath coming out in shallow gasps. My body feels like it's on fire as warmth pools in my lower stomach.
Finally, he releases my wrist, letting my hand drop, but he doesn't step away. I swallow hard, feeling the way his presence looms over me, so heavy and suffocating. Mikhail leans forward, moving close so that our faces are pressed side-by-side as he turns slightly, looking straight into my eyes.
I stop breathing altogether.
“Don’t make a mess next time, beauty.” He murmurs softly, his lips brushing against the corners of mine with every word that leaves his mouth. “Or else, I won’t stop at just your fingers.”
His words send a shiver down my spine.
Finally, he pulls back, turning on his feet as he walks away from me, leaving me in the bathroom, clutching onto the edge of the sink, my legs barely able to hold me up.
He shuts the door behind me, and I finally release the breath I’ve been holding. I look back at my reflection in the mirror, noticing how flushed and wide-eyed I now look.
I let the water run, wondering if I’ll ever find solid ground again, or if this madness will eventually consume me whole.
Running my fingers under the water, I try to erase the feeling of Mikhail’s mouth. My breathing is uneven, and the woman in the mirror mocks me with her flushed cheeks, and the look in her eyes that tells me she should know better—thatIshould know better.
With a splash, I cup some water before throwing it to my face, allowing the chill to soothe my heated skin. Droplets traildown my cheeks and neck as I stare into the mirror, gripping onto the faint hope that I can collect myself before returning to my room.
I swallow hard.
It’s more like my prison.
A humourless laugh escapes me as I straighten up, flicking water from my hands before I wipe them over the soft material of my t-shirt. I take a deep breath in, shaking my head to clear it of these wild thoughts, as I leave the bathroom, making my way towards the bed again.
I step into my room, pausing for a second as I look over the space in front of me.
I have no idea if they’re keeping me out, or locking me in any more.
I tread towards the small bed.
I’m too lost in my own thoughts to even notice it at first, too focused on the ache in my heart, and the knot of frustration that’s twisting tighter and tighter.
I freeze mid-step when I feel it; warmth at my back, a presence too close to mistake. My heart lurches violently, every nerve alive as an arm slips around my middle, tugging me back into his chest.
“Nikolai.”
I whisper, barely able to choke out his name, his touch all-too familiar now.