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She wants to threaten me with torture, pretending like she has any control in this matter. Not a fucking chance.

I will show her who is in control. No one teases me and gets what they want.

Except.

She is getting what she wanted.

I had no intention of coming in here and fucking her. I just wanted to show her that she has no control here.

Now she is bent over with her skirt all the way up over her hips.

My eyes graze over her, bent over the bench, her legs spread and her pussy pointing up at me.

I dip my finger beneath the thin lace fabric of her panties and rip them straight off her body.

She jumps in fright.

I press my finger inside her, letting it slip all the way into her pussy. Fuck. She feels incredible.

“You’re fucking dripping,” I growl, barely able to keep my focus.

She rocks herself backwards against my hand and it’s practically my undoing. I pull my hand away and grab my cock, pressing the tip against her tight, pink little pussy.

I clamp my hand over her mouth, and in one movement I thrust deep into her. My cock slides in smoothly, buried inside her.

My entire body shudders with pleasure as I sink into her.

I can feel my cock stretching her tight little pussy wide open as I bury myself in her and pause, feeling how tight she is. I am stretching her and her filling her up, and her pussy is clamped so tightly around me I feel like I might explode right then and there.

I growl with satisfaction and pull out slowly, then slam into her again.

My hand clamps tighter over her mouth as she squeals with pleasure. I can see her fingers gripping the bench tightly.

I begin to fuck her wildly, letting the animal in me take over.

There is nothing calm or gentle about this. Both of us are being driven to the edge of passion, and neither of us are in control right now.

My cock is slamming into her again and again, and I can feel her body starting to shake. She can barely stand, so I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her up as I thrust harder and harder. Sex has never felt so good. I have never been this out of control or felt this kind of urgency.

My cock feels like it might tear her apart, but she is loving every moment of it.

Soon the weight of her body is almost fully supported by my arm, and her legs are shaking so heavily that I know she is close to coming.

Her pussy is so tight on my cock, I can feel it pulsing as her pleasure builds.

I can’t wait any more. And when I feel her entire body go rigid and then shake uncontrollably, I slam into her one last time and explode in waves of pleasure inside her as she comes all over my cock.

She is breathing heavily, and I continue to hold one arm around her waist as she stands up, leaning her back against my chest.

Both of us are speechless.

She shifts her weight from one leg to the other, trying to pull the dress she is wearing back down over her ass, but it’s too tight.

When I feel like she is steady enough I step away from her, clearing my throat loudly, trying to clear my mind as much as ease this incredibly loud silence between us.

I zip my pants closed and stare down at her.

She is fucking gorgeous.

Her face is flushed, and her hair is wild. There is a faint trace of my handprint over her mouth from clamping down to keep her quiet. It looks so fucking sexy on her.

She licks her lips nervously and struggles to make eye contact with me. Her gaze is shifting all over the small dressing room.

“I need to get dressed,” she mumbles shyly.

“I’ll—I’ll be waiting outside,” I say calmly, then pull the door of the changing room open and go out to sit on the sofa again. I half expected to be greeted by a dozen employees, all come to kick us out, but apparently, I managed to keep her quiet enough that no one heard what we are up to.

That was not supposed to happen, though. We are not supposed to do that.

That should never have happened.

And I should not have enjoyed it so much, and I should definitely not want more the moment I step away from her.

I have never connected with someone like that before. It’s never felt so intense and heated and passionate.

How can I regret it when it felt—almost— perfect .

I shake my head and run my hands through my hair.

I’m being ridiculous. She’s my prisoner. There is no connection .

This is just the aftermath of what happened taunting my mind.

Sasha steps out of the dressing room, only holding the dress that she was wearing when I fucked her a few moments ago.

“I, um, I think we need to get this one.” She bites her lip, still not making eye contact. Her cheeks are still glowing.

“Yeah. I doubt anyone else would be too pleased to know what happened in it if we leave it behind,” I chuckle.

She giggles as well, but I can see she is feeling just as awkward as I am.

Did she feel the same things I felt in the changing room? It seemed like it was as intense for her as it was for me.

“I think you should get all of the dresses. They all looked good on you,” I say, trying to at least hold some kind of a conversation.

She shrugs her shoulders a little. “I don’t really have anywhere to wear them.”

I follow her to the check-out counter and she places the dress on the table. The lady lifts it up and Sasha takes a deep, nervous breath. She is terrified that the woman might know what just happened, but I’m convinced no one heard us and the only reason the lady is being is weird is because of how awkward Sasha looks. I chuckle quietly to myself.

After paying for the dress, with the lady looking at us as though she knows something and Sasha’s cheeks growing more and more red by the second, we head out to the car again.

Sasha is practically running to get out of the mall, and I pick up my pace to keep up with her, my long strides comfortably matching her little jog.

She climbs into the car without waiting for me to open the door and quickly closes it behind herself.

I chuckle again. Yes, she is definitely feeling just as awkward or confused as I am.

But now, what am I supposed to do about this?

How do I deal with the fact that I am this attracted or connected to the girl I am supposed to be torturing and keeping as a prisoner?

It was so much easier when she pushed me away the other day—then I could be annoyed with her. But now—now I know she wanted it as much as I did.

It’s something that I might have to talk to her about, before it drives me crazy, but I don’t have any idea what to say or how to deal with it. I don’t even know what I think about it.

So instead of talking, we just drive in very heavy silence back through town, towards home.

My grip tightens and loosens on the steering wheel as I drive, my mind all over the place. Did I just make things worse for myself?

I mean, she is my wife—

The shrieking sound of tires against the road snaps my attention to the left. A car screams across two lanes straight towards us. I try to maneuver out of the way, but I've been so lost in thought that I’m too late to react properly. This car is purposefully targeting us. There is no question about it.

I pull the steering wheel, but the car still hits us, just in the front near the hood, and immediately we are tossed into the air.

My car spins and rolls, and my only instinct in the chaos is to reach out and wrap my arm across Sasha to try and keep her safe as our bodies are slammed around.

Our car grinds loudly against the road, the metal scraping the tar until it comes to a stop on its side. I kick my door open, climb out, and reach in to lift Sasha out of my side as well. We have to get moving. Whoever just crashed into us will be coming after us, and I don’t want Sasha in the middle of a shootout.

Her eyes are wild with fright and fear when I get her out of the car. She is holding my hand tightly. Her body is shaking.

“They came out of nowhere,” she stammers. “Is everyone okay?”

“That wasn’t an accident. We need to move. Now.” I turn to run, pulling her with me as I scout around for somewhere to disappear, but there are three men surrounding us.

I take a sharp breath in. This is not good. This is the worst possible thing that could be happening right now.

One of them I know.

I instantly recognize him as one of Danil Balakin’s goons. All three men are armed, and my gun is under the seat inside my car. There is no way I’ll have time to reach it.

Fuck . This is so bad.

The head goon chuckles and raises his gun towards me. The other two follow his lead, and soon all three of them have their barrels pointed at me and their fingers on the triggers.

“Dubrov. We don’t need to take you alive. We just need the girl.”

My hand tightens around Sasha’s waist, pulling her closer, pushing her slightly behind me.

Suddenly she screams loudly and steps right in front of me.

My entire body goes tense. What the fuck is she doing?

“Don’t shoot. He has a knife,” she yells at the men. “Please, he’ll kill me,” she starts begging desperately. They hesitate. Clearly, their instructions are to take her alive. But now her body is blocking the person they’re allowed to kill. Me .

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whisper harshly.

“Please, I don’t want to die,” she says loudly, ignoring me.

The men look unsure about what to do. Her plan is working. But I don’t understand why she is doing this. She could have let them take her home. She could easily have escaped me.

I start walking backwards, away from the goons, keeping her close to me and keeping my arm behind her back as though I really do have her trapped at knifepoint.

The men stare helplessly as we move further and further away.

I pull her behind a corner and then shout, “Run.”

She bolts after me, my hand locked in hers, pulling her to ensure she keeps up.

I run straight into the road, amidst the traffic.

At an intersection, I grab the door of a car close to me open it. The driver turns towards me in horror. “What the—"

I grab him by the shirt and pull him out of the driver’s side. He lands on the pavement with a squeal of fright.

“I’ll leave your car somewhere you can find it,” I say as I push Sasha into his car and then climb in after her.

I slam my foot on the accelerator and speed away, my eyes locked on the rearview mirror to see if Danil’s men are following us, but they aren’t.

When I’m sure we aren’t being trailed, I focus fully on the road ahead. I want to get Sasha safely off the roads before anything else happens.

I came so close to losing my grip on her today.

Everything I’d done to get to that point would have been for nothing, all because I wasn’t paying attention.

She is sitting in the passenger seat with her eyes constantly scanning out of the window. She is also searching for the attackers, keeping a watchful eye out for her father’s men.

Searching as though she doesn’t want to see them again.

I shake my head. I don’t understand.

I don’t understand what happened between us at the mall, and I don’t understand why she would risk her own life, using her body as a shield, to save mine.

She could’ve gone home. She could’ve gotten away so easily.

“Sasha," I say, glancing over to her.

“Just get us home,” she says abruptly. Her eyes are thick with fear when they catch mine, her cheeks pale. She looks terrified.

“Okay.”