Page 53 of Blood, Bones, and the Bratva Bogeyman

“Close. I’m plotting how many ways I can split you open tonight before your voice breaks.”

Her breath catches and I feel it through the bond. That hit of lust, of heat, of a challenge I hadn’t yet thrown down.

Oh, little fox. Game on, baby girl.

Wrapping her hand in mine, I pull her from the table, ignoring the whistles and laughter from behind us. We don’t stop until we’re at the bottom of a stairwell that leads to the second floor in the back hall where the paint peels in curls and the draft brushes along our skin. There’s a little sign on a velvet rope blocking it off that says STAFF ONLY which obviously means fun happens beyond this point. The silence of the asylum wraps around us, broken only by our breathing and the occasional burst of noise coming from direction of the reception.

“Run.”

Cressida’s brow arches. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,Lisichka. Run. Give me a chase.”

She plants her hands on her curvy, thick hips and my tongue drifts along my bottom lip as I picture them wrapped around my shoulders as I shove my cock deep into her cunt.

“You’re literally faster than everyone in this building. Not fair.”

“Fine.” I shrug off my suit jacket and crack my neck. “I won’t use the bond or my abilities. No vision, no hearing. Nothing that would give me an unfair advantage. It would defeat the purpose.”

She narrows her eyes at me and purses her lips. “You swear?”

“On my life.”

I’ll give her anything she asks for and then take whatever the hell she gives me back.

Her mouth curls into a devilish grin and she leans in, brushing a kiss along my jaw. “Then try to catch me, husband.”

And she bolts.

Fuck, she’s fast.

Unfortunately for her, I’m faster.

Because I’m such a generous husband, though, I give her a three second head start before I start after her. The halls creak with every step I take and the shadows flicker in the broken light of the antique sconces. She’s laughing somewhere up ahead, that wild, breathless sound echoing off the walls. It claws something awake in my chest that has nothing to do with running.

It’s hunger.

It’s the thrill of the hunt.

It’s the woman who is mine in every way that matters, taunting me with her speed, her laughter, her fucking delicious scent that makes my cock weep.

She rounds the corner up ahead with the swish of black satin and the flash of bare leg.

Fuck.

Pushing harder, I close the distance between us, my hands grazing the chipped wallpaper, my breathing nearly violent. Every sense screams to use my full strength.

Not using the bond is an exercise in self-torture.

I reach the third floor, not far behind her. Old patient rooms long abandoned with their doors wide open greet me. Now, they’re nothing but decaying furniture and faded whispers of madness. She slips into one of them, slamming the door behind her. I follow after, opening it slowly, letting the tension build the same way a predator toys with its prey.

She’s crouched behind a table.

I lean against the doorway and fold my arms over my chest. “You know I can hear your heartbeat, right?”

“Cheater.”

“You married a monster,Lisichka. You expected mercy?”