Page 40 of Beautiful Secrets

But then he tightens the grip around my throat, and fear spikes through me. All thoughts of seduction evaporate. I struggle and yell and kick, but it is like I am spitting at the wind.

“Keep going,” he says when my struggles become weaker.

“Shob tebe deti v sup srali!”

“Why thank you, Mika. Idothink my eyes are my best feature.”

I let out a frustrated yell, but he just snuggles against me like we’re lovers, caging me in tighter and tighter.

“I can’t breathe,” I mutter.

“I didn’t promise Daddy dearest you’d be in a good condition when I handed you back,” he says.

“He won’t pay you if I’m dead.”

“You don’t sound dead to me.”

“Zhopu porvu margala vikoliu!”

“Such a dirty little mouth,” he croons, putting his mouth by my ear. “Wanna know what the cure for a dirty mouth is?”

With my cheek pressed to the wall, all it takes to catch sight of his expression is to swivel my eyes a little.

Cole stares at me with a stomach-knotting intensity.

I am definitely losing my mind.

Why else would I be wondering if he means to kiss me or shove his cock down my throat?

“Guess, Mika,” he says, as if reading my mind.

My lips begin to tremble, and his gaze latches onto them. “I am sorry.”

“Too late, little rabbit.” He drops his head, his warm breath teasing my earlobe. “You’ve poked the bear.”

15

Cole

I’m not chasing down a deer anymore—I’m trying to outwit a fox. Asmallfox. An easily overpowered fox.

Once I finally managed to catch her, of course.

She bounces when I toss her onto the bed. Tries to wriggle away, of course. But I grab her ankles and just drag her back again.

Her body trembles as she tries to resist me hauling her onto the mattress.

“Please, Cole! I am sorry!” she yells in her thick Russian accent when her back thumps into the mattress. The bedsprings complain mightily as she rolls onto her side and tries to crawl away from me.

I grab her hair and drag her back.

Mika screams.

I chuckle at how pointless it is. I’d tell her not to bother, but I’m kinda loving it.

I flip her onto her back, slapping away her hands when she tries to gouge out my eyes. She curses me in Russian when I tie her wrists together, and again in English when I yank on the knots to make sure they’re tight.

Again, she manages to wriggle away. Again, I haul her back by her hair.