Page 15 of Captive Vows (The Dubinin Bratva #1)

GAbrIELLA

L osing track of time happened too often. Although I was trapped in his house and never given the right to leave or choose anything about my existence here, I fell into the routine of enjoying what I could while I was here.

The studio.

The food.

The lack of wondering whether someone would bother me while I walked home.

At first, it was a simple feat of tracking days and hours by realizing how many classes I’d missed at the studio.

How many open-studio hours I was skipping to practice.

Once I was given the ultimate gift of my own dance studio and a rotation of tough but excellent instructors to tutor me, I had all that I could have ever wished for.

Under Luka’s provisions, I could catch up to all those privileged dancers who never had to stress about money.

With nothing else to burden me here—no responsibilities other than to be with Luka when he came home to join him for meals—I was free to dance and study and learn.

After a month of dancing here, I felt fit and toned, more precise with my movements.

No simple, silly mistakes happened to frustrate me.

And all the while, I accepted that low-burning tension and apprehension of waiting for Luka to watch.

He was busy, commenting about long hours at an office or being out “in the field” on other days.

I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to know any details.

The less I was aware of, the better, because I wasn’t fit for this Mafia life of violence.

Allen and Emil explained weeks ago that the bloodied soldier who’d come into my room drugged like that was a mistake.

That he had been helped appropriately after a fight.

The experience had traumatized me, but the other, smaller incidents that followed didn’t send me into a lockdown status of shock.

Now and then, I spotted wounded men coming through.

From Ivan and Alek, I was given vague details about how Luka’s fortress of a home was under lockdown.

That was a joke for me. I was already locked in, but they always gave me a heads up when danger was higher than usual.

Violence was a part of these men’s lives, but so long as I stuck to the studio and stayed out of sight, I could do my best to keep it apart from my existence here.

No matter what, Luka always came home. He never defined his expectations of me. For as much as he wanted to emphasize that he’d gotten me from my father and I was now his possession, he left the obvious follow-up question open-ended.

He owned me… for what?

I didn’t know. But the more he came to watch me dance and stare at me with that ravenous, sinister gaze, I let my mind wander.

I dared to fantasize about the chance that he might be keeping me here to truly own me—body, mind, and soul.

Submitting to him wasn’t happening, not with my heart or head. I wouldn’t be able to fully lower my guard and trust him when I spent my whole life only relying on myself. But with my body? Surrendering to this older, stronger man didn’t seem like such a horrible concept. Not anymore.

Desire gripped me when he was near. Longing fueled me to think about him when he wasn’t. It didn’t matter what I was doing and where we were. These slowly igniting embers of need wouldn’t be extinguished.

Each time I felt him watching me, mostly without a single word, I enjoyed the thrill of him stalking me. Of him planning to prey on me. Or I hoped he might. I wasn’t sure if I could withstand this nonverbal tease of him watching me without following through on what had to be desire.

When he’d kissed my cheek, that felt like barely controlled desire.

When he’d caged me against the wall, it seemed like he was about to cave and devour me.

What is wrong with me?

I paused in the middle of a sequence of steps, distracted by these thoughts about the older, sexy man I had no business wanting at all. Hanging my head as I tried to collect myself, I resisted this needling obsession.

I had to stop wondering what it would feel like if he really kissed me. If I’d pass out from the thrill of him really touching me. This teasing game we were keeping up, a mutual suspension of desire, couldn’t last for long. Maybe it could. I wouldn’t know. I had no experience with this.

Just like when I hatched the hare-brained and impulsive idea to flirt with Oliver, that dance instructor at the studio, to get ahead, I felt so out of my comfort zone.

Going after men wasn’t something I knew how to do.

Pursuing someone and expressing my lust for them weren’t something I felt confident about.

And that scared me. It rattled me to consider telling Luka that I wanted him.

Those times I asked him what he wanted from me were supposed to be my attempts of getting clarification.

But they failed. He still wouldn’t just tell me what I was here for.

Then when I reminded him that I was here against my will, his thing to own, he wouldn’t elaborate on why.

It’s not like I can just tell him that I’m interested in him.

He’d never believe me.

I can’t come on to him.

That was definitely not happening. After my failed attempt to seduce Oliver, I knew better than to overestimate myself and my ability to wow a man.

Luka watched me. I saw how he looked at me, like a starved man wishing for a feast. But he wouldn’t make a move.

He wouldn’t initiate anything like that.

Shaking my head, I tried to hold on to logic.

It was stupid to even think about lusting after this Mafia boss.

I was supposed to get the hell out of here.

To be free. Yet, if I did that, I’d miss out on his hungry gazes.

I’d cut off this dangerous thrill of his interest. And I’d lose this gorgeous studio and the instructors he’d provided for me.

But why?

If I was here to be a kept woman, why wasn’t he going for me?

If I was given to him to be his sex toy, his mistress, then would he take me like he said he could?

“I don’t play, Gabriella. I just take. I take what I want.”

He’d whispered those naughty words to me, but he had yet to act on that power.

Thinking of how it would feel to be under his touch, in his grasp, and kissing his lips, I couldn’t shake off this sensation of being small.

Helpless. Inexperienced. It almost reminded me of the fear when Tony almost raped me, but more than that, I was addicted to exploring whatever Luka Dubinin would show me.

He’d be a hard lover. There was no question about that. But I was getting ahead of myself. Until he could make a move and let me know that he truly wanted me…

“I thought this room was for dancing.”

I jolted at his deep voice. He came up behind me, stalking so quietly like the powerful, predatory man he was. I hated how I flinched, but as I turned to face him, I damned this stupid blush that warmed my cheeks. “I was thinking.”

“Ah.” He raised his brows, coming to stand right in front of me. His hands were in his pockets. His stance was relaxed. It wasn’t fair how he could look so cool and chill when merely trying to make eye contact heated me up like this. “And what kind of thoughts are keeping you so preoccupied?”

I licked my lips. That teasing, sexy tone affected me, making me hotter and more on edge.

God, I just want to…

I fought the urge to just kiss him. To give in and cave to this seductive man. To admit I wasn’t strong enough to be smart and know that I shouldn’t want him.

What’s wrong with me?

He kidnapped me.

He captured me.

He tilted his head to the side. “Thirty.”

I cringed. “I?—”

Stepping closer, he pulled me into a loose hug. Having his hands on me at all was nearly my undoing with how drawn I was. His presence was a magnetic force, tethering me to him.

“Hmm?”

“I was thinking about you,” I admitted.

He pulled me closer, tightening his arms around me.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I was stuck under this desire that made my pussy wet and my nipples hard.

“Go on,” he urged.

“That’s it.” I cleared my throat. “I was thinking about you.”

“Ah. Well, you can think about this instead.” Leaning in, he tormented me with the suggestion that he’d kiss me. Instead, he smiled and watched me as he stroked his finger along my jawline. “I’ve set up an audition for you.”

I gasped, staring at him in awe. Just when I wanted to reconfirm how he was the bad guy, he had to go and do something extraordinary like this.

“With the people you mentioned. The ones who’d select their dancers for the show next year. It’s preliminary yet, but I’ve secured a private audition for you.”

“I…” I couldn’t speak. I was so blown away, unable to comprehend him and why he’d do this. No one had ever done something like this for me. No one had ever expressed this much support of my dreams.

“I…”

He tipped my chin up, keeping his two fingertips there as I met his gaze.

“Say something, Gabriella.”

I blinked, so moved and touched. Yet, still so twisted and confused by how badly I wanted him. Deep down, I fought the worry that this had to be a trick. That his kind gesture would come with a catch. “Why?”

“Because I want to see you smile.” Caressing my cheek, he made a slow move of cupping my face and leaning in.

“A smile?” I huffed a weak laugh, feeling delirious in his embrace like this. “You didn’t have to go to such a grand gesture to get a smile from me.”

“I didn’t?”

I stared deep into his eyes. “No. I mean… just kiss me already. That’d probably do it.”

He didn’t wait. Crushing his mouth over mine, he kissed me.

He brushed his warm, wet lips over mine, so smooth and demanding.

Under his touch, I was taken out of this world.

I was floating, suspended in this fantasy I’d kept to myself for so long.

I was sinking, drowning with the urgency to experience more and more.

He pulled back, staring at me as he breathed hard. “You’re not smiling.”

I furrowed my brow and reached up to tug him back down for another kiss.

And another.

Another.

His growls turned me on more. When I whimpered with need, he slid his tongue into my mouth and stole a taste. Groping him to hold him close, I explored this raging heat to kiss and be kissed. To devour and be claimed.

That tension snapped at last. This delicious race to surrender to him scared me, but as he made out with me and clutched me close, I couldn’t imagine ever stopping.

Leading me toward the wall, he proved how quickly his control could unravel.

He pressed me against the hard surface as he gripped my hips.

His touch was rough and demanding, but I wasn’t scared.

I was only that much more feral for him, that much more impatient and desperate for his kisses.

For his needy gropes and pushes of his hips against me.

When he broke for air, I gasped and clung to him. With that one wicked look he focused on me, as if he were searing me from the inside out, I sagged and wished he could just show me how good it would be. I waited for him to take me—just like he said he could.

“Luka…”

He trailed hot kisses down from the tender spot beneath my ear. His hands squeezed at my hips, but it was the drugging, hot suction of his lips on my neck that made me squirm with more need. “Oh, Luka…”

He pulled back. Keeping his head low, he didn’t give me the privilege of eye contact. But it was when he stepped back fully that I wanted to cry out in protest.

“Have a good night, Gabriella.”

What?

No.

Seriously?

No!

What the hell?

I leaned against the wall as he turned away. Relying on the surface at my back to keep me upright, I panted and tried to unscramble my mind long enough to know what the hell had gone wrong.

In a millisecond, he was just over it. He was done. He was walking away from me without another word. Without any explanation.

He declared that when he wanted something, he’d just take it. He didn’t play games. He merely got what he wanted because of who he was.

As I watched him go, I lifted my trembling fingers to my lips and pressed them to the warmth he’d left there. Kiss-stung and swollen, I felt shaken to my core from just that tease.

Was he teasing me?

Was he messing with me on purpose?

What is going on?

All I knew was what he’d told me. That he took what he wanted.

And if he could walk away after kissing me like that, I had to accept the disappointing and wretched truth that he didn’t want me , the thing he’d taken because he could.

I shook my head slowly, hating myself for ever desiring him when I was clearly so unworthy of his touches and kisses.