“That’s it, baby. Take all you want,” he stated with clear authority, his fingers rubbing back and forth across my aching and bruised nipples.

  I was exhausted, my legs aching as I continued riding him until I lowered my head, gasping for air.

  “You are so gorgeous when you come,” he muttered and rubbed his hands up and down my arms, creating an entire trail of goosebumps.

  I blinked several times, trying to focus, my pulse racing. The look in his eyes was more ravenous, his patience all but gone.

  Using no effort, he rolled me over, immediately yanking my legs up to his chest as he leaned over. His cock remained seated inside, throbbing even more than it had before. He planted his hands on either side of me, lowering down until our lips were almost touching.

  “Never forget you now belong to me.”

  A chill washed over me but this time out of the joy of hearing his words. There was also truth in his eyes, an almost desperate need. But I could swear there was something else, just a glimmer.

  Love.

  He gently pressed his lips against mine only once before rearing back, pulling out then driving deep inside. After he repeated the move, I clamped my feet together, rubbing and squeezing his arms. He wasn’t going to be gentle any longer or allow me to continue playing, his needs too significant.

  As he powered into me, driving in brutal thrusts, the force slammed the headboard into the wall, the sound almost theatrical in nature. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, the way his face strained or the way his eyes remained half closed. Only when I clamped then released my pussy muscles did his eyes open wide, a growl rolling up from his gut.

  “Bad. Girl.” The two words were so husky, so sexual in nature.

  And at that moment, I enjoyed being a bad girl. His bad girl.

  He continued the hard fucking, his muscles straining as beads of sweat dripped down from his forehead, falling ever so gently onto my cheeks. For a few precious seconds, we were as one, our bodies and our souls meshing and wrapping together.

  There was no reason for a tear to slip past my eyelashes, but the realization yanked at another wave of sadness. After all these years, I was crying now. Why?

  Christopher cocked his head, studying me intently as he drove his cock in several additional times. I knew he was close to coming, his entire face pinched as he experienced his own round of surreal anguish. When I clamped my muscles once again, he let out a bellow that rocked the room.

  The warm gush as he erupted into me was cathartic in some crazy manner, as if this time he’d made love to me. As if this time, he’d ripped away the scars covering my heart.

  Panting, he brushed his fingers across my thigh, rolling them gingerly down my leg. As he continued, I was unable to stop my body’s reaction, the bristling unexpected the second he touched the horrible scar.

  Everything seemed to go into slow motion as he shifted his head, gazing down at the discoloration and still tender skin. I expected an explosion, a rupturing of the true man inside. When he crawled backward, his breathing ragged, I could tell he understood what had happened. There was no doubt by the look in his eyes, but instead of berating or issuing harsh words, he took his time massaging my leg, his long fingers creating an entirely different kind of sensation.

  I could barely catch my breath, my throat threatening to shut down the closer he came to the injury again. When he leaned over, pressing his lips against the area, I fisted the covers, a rush of tears flowing from my eyes.

  Minutes passed, what seemed like a luxurious time as he caressed every inch, moving to my other leg before finally crawling over me again. When he spoke, there was utter conviction in his tone, truth behind the softness.

  But I could feel a rumble of anger in his chest.

  “No one will ever hurt you again, including me. No one.”

  As he moved away from the bed, a cold wave shuddered through my system. “Where are you going?” Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.

  “I’m not going anywhere, precious angel. I’m merely turning off the light.” Seconds later, he tugged on the sheets before climbing into bed, pulling the thin material as well as the comforter over us.

  I continued to shiver as I rolled on my side, cradling my body next to his. I clung to him in a way I hadn’t with any other man, softly stroking his chest as he ran his fingers up and down my back. There were no words needed between us. There was also no rationale for the closeness I felt to him, but I longed to be even closer, becoming part of him and his world. Maybe I was suffering from anxiety or maybe I was ready to let go of the past.

  Either way, the rapid beating of his heart echoed in my ears. He’d allowed me a reason to trust him, giving me options as to how I’d react. Maybe he did have a heart after all.

  The words came easily, the burden of holding them inside pushed aside.

  “When I refused to accept Aleksandr’s niceties after he’d captured me, his moods became darker. He was so angry, becoming more brutal. I could tell he was also being harassed, but by whom I wasn’t certain. That only fueled his actions into becoming more savage. While he’d never attempted to take me forcefully, one night he’d started drinking heavily. I was able to hear him cursing in Russian, breaking things in his house. I also heard muffled voices and knew in my gut that someone else was frustrated with the fact I’d been captured instead of killed.”

  Christopher didn’t react other than to pull me even more tightly against his body.

  Still stroking.

  Still protecting.

  “Soon after, everything became quiet. Then he returned to the room where I was caged, yanking me out and tossing me over his shoulder. He took me to his bed and he…” My voice caught in my throat, my entire body tensing.

  As Christopher kissed the top of my head, I started to relax, no longer reliving the horrible night but standing outside of it. Somehow, he’d given me courage with his strength and his caring.

  “I lashed out, refusing to be taken by him. When I managed to kick him in the groin, he exploded, throwing me to the floor. As he held me down, he looked me in the eyes and told me that if he couldn’t have me, neither could the world.” A single sob burst from my throat. I bit it back, refusing to allow the asshole to take away the rest of my life. “Then he told me he would take away everything that mattered to me.”

  He took a deep breath, holding it in, his fingers finally digging into my skin as his heartbeat increased.

  “I didn’t feel my bones breaking at first, but the sound was something I’ll never be able to forget. The doctors said that I’d never dance again, although given the pins they were able to place in my ankle, if I was lucky, I’d finally walk after months or years of rehabilitation. So, you see, I had nothing to stay for in New York. I came home to my parents, telling them I’d been in a horrible accident. While I don’t think they really believed me, they did what they could to help me heal.”

  I wasn’t certain what to think when Christopher remained still. Then he placed his leg over mine protectively and lifted my chin with a single finger. The softness of his lips wasn’t as surprising as the gentle way that he slipped his tongue into my mouth.

  When he eased back, he pressed kisses against my nose and both cheeks. “Tomorrow morning, you’re coming with me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’re going to stay with me for a while.”

  I pushed my hand against him, struggling to look him in the eyes through the slight stream of moonlight. “I don’t need babysitting.”

  He chuckled under his breath. “And that’s not what I’m doing. I already told you. You belong to me. I want to take some time to get to know you, days in fact.”

  While his words were thrilling and I could tell he meant every one of them, he was doing something else. He’d chosen to become my hero, if only in the method of protection for a little while.

  “Besides, you can help me get used to owning a dog,” he added before capturing my mouth, sliding his hand down to my hip as he ground his cock against me.

  Another rush of desire shifted into me as well as utter exhaustion. And for the first time when I closed my eyes, I didn’t see the vicious look on Aleksandr’s face before falling asleep.

  As I drifted off, I heard the two words that no longer made me cringe. Instead, they made my irrational love of him that much more potent and real.

  “My angel.”

  Chapter 11

  Christopher

  Revenge.

  If I was a Godfearing man, I would be inclined to allow karma to intervene, but I hadn’t anticipated hearing the ugly story the night before. The woman I loved being caged and violated in the manner in which she’d been had unearthed a different kind of beast dwelling deep within. She’d placed her trust in me, something that I valued almost as much as loyalty.

  Then I’d seen her tears and I’d almost lost it.

  While I had no desire to leave her alone, she didn’t need to be dragged into my world any more than she already had been. She would remain at my house for as long as necessary.

  Under my protection.

  Under my sheets.

  I smiled as I pulled the car into the valet parking area, vile thoughts continuing to pour through my mind. I certainly hadn’t intended on spending the night with her, but even though I’d learned just how strong she truly was, she’d seemed fragile. All I’d wanted to do was hold her all night. I knew a few things about compound fractures, especially involving an ankle. The injury often led to blood clots later on, as well as reduced mobility. My visions of her dancing in the club became much more vibrant. I was astonished at her abilities.

  As I handed off the keys as well as a hundred-dollar bill to the eager attendant, I had no doubt Aleksandr would agree to see me.

  The lobby was full of people, the posh hotel the finest in downtown DC. I headed toward the concierge desk, rapping my fingers on the wooden surface impatiently.

  “Yes, sir?”

  I gazed at the shorter man before continuing to scan the lobby. If I wasn’t mistaken, I could see one of Aleksandr’s soldiers casing the lobby. The Russian was anticipating some form of attack, even though I was certain he’d attempted to hide his identity at least to a point.

  “I’m here to see Aleksandr Prentikov.” The fact I knew he was staying in the hotel surprised the balding man.

  “He doesn’t accept visitors.”

  “I suggest you tell him that Christopher Dunmore is here to see him.” When I gave him a hard look, his hand began to shake, but he inched toward one of the phones.

  The wait was only one minute, his return sheepish. “Someone will escort you to Mr. Prentikov’s suite. You can go to the bank of lobbies over there and wait.”

  Of course they would.

  I nodded in appreciation and headed for the elevators, cognizant that the soldier had been called, his eyes remaining on me as I headed toward the bank of steel boxes.

  After the elevator leading to the top floor opened, three men stepped onto the marble floor. I could clearly see the outline of their weapons before they ushered me into the steel box. When one of the brutes started to pat me down, I lifted my arms to make it easier, snickering under my breath. It was good to know Aleksandr was uncertain of my intentions.

  When the scarred man seemed satisfied, he stood in front of me, the other two behind. They weren’t taking any chances.

  The elevator opened directly into the suite, the impressive looking entrance area fit for a king. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around three sides, the view of the DC impressive even though I’d seen almost every element of the city, both good and bad.

  “Wait here,” one of the soldiers instructed, the other two remaining.

  This wasn’t about small talk but about business.

  One way or the other, I would have the answers I needed by the time I left today.

  I heard footsteps, the gait slow and relaxed.

  “Come now. You didn’t offer our guest a drink? Shame on you.” Aleksandr’s accent seemed entirely different than the night at the club, the smile on his face more of a smirk. I was in his territory now.

  “I’m not here to socialize, Russian, but I’m certain you already knew that.” I walked closer, shooting both soldiers an evil grin. I wasn’t surprised to see a glass of vodka in Aleksandr’s hand even at this hour.

  “Yes, Christopher. I assumed as much. Tell me, what can I do for you? Or is it that you are here to apologize?”

  I laughed as I walked closer. “Your attempt at humor?”

  His smile faded. “What do you want?”

  “Answers.”

  He studied me intently before waving off his soldiers and pointing toward the expansive living room. I walked toward the set of glass doors, staring out at the city. I could still see his reflection in the crystal-clear panes of glass.

  “What answers are you looking for?” he finally asked after easing onto one of the leather chairs.

  “I am well aware of your… profession and why you are here. It’s widely known who you are working for. My question is, what is your interest in the club?” As I turned around to look at him, he seemed genuinely surprised at the question.

  He continued to study me for a few seconds before leaning forward. “I am well aware of the heavy burden of carrying information, the kind that often comes with the need to look over your shoulder. Your father was an impressive man, someone I would almost call a friend. His passing was unexpected.”

  “Was it? It’s my understanding that he was murdered because of his business tactics.”

  Aleksandr narrowed his eyes. “If you are insinuating that I had anything to do with your father’s death, you are wrong. I respected your father more than you know. If he knew his reign of power could end violently, he would have taken steps to ensure the future for the club as well as his sons. You don’t harbor information to use as blackmail without facing certain… dangers.”

  “I’m not the kind of man to insinuate anything, Prentikov. I believe my father was killed for that reason, the same reason that there is a price tag hanging over his three sons.”

  He smiled, shaking his head. “If what I heard about your father is true, he had a wealth of information that could ruin very important people in this town.”

  “Does that include you?”

  “I had no reason to lie to your father, nor did I find his methods of business a particular threat. Besides, much like you and your brothers, he did his homework. He knew all about me. Therefore, I chose not to hide anything from him. You should be proud of your father. He was very… how do you say it? Skilled as well as powerful.”

  “People always have secrets, Prentikov. There is always something hidden just below the surface. The skill is finding the right mechanism to unlock those secrets. That is something I’m very good at doing.”

  His smile faded and he rose to his feet. “Then that makes you both dangerous as well as a potential target.”

  “Oh, there’s nothing potential about the target my brothers and I are facing from a group within the club, men who worked with my father as judge and jury. In order to act on their difficult decisions made, they would have needed hired help, the kind that could handle any situation, no matter how gruesome or inconvenient.”

  He walked closer, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “And sometimes things aren’t as they might seem, Christopher. Don’t always look for the obvious. That is what could get you and your brothers killed.”

  “That’s fascinating coming from a man of your… distinction.”

  Chuckling, his eyes flashed a hint of admiration. “I learned a long time ago to enjoy every day of my life, no matter the cost or the ramifications. I suggest you learn to do the same. There are always men searching for the right mechanisms in order to gain power. As you said, we all have secrets.”

  There was no tension between us, just an odd sense of admiration.

  “As well as weaknesses,” I added. “Every man has at least one of those, if not more.” I shifted my gaze toward the glass in his hand then back to his eyes. “I suggest you think strongly about the business that brought you to our lovely city. It’s my understanding the price tag on your head is extremely high, but well worth the effort a certain… family is determined to put in. They are quite formidable, Aleksandr.”

  Whether his smile returned because I’d used his first name or because of the warning I’d given him was undecipherable. However, I was determined to follow my instincts.

  “Duly noted, Mr. Dunmore. I appreciate your concern.”

  Another flash of his dark eyes confirmed he was on a mission of murder. “You know, I was privileged to know your father. We had several long discussions over decent bottles of vodka and Cuban cigars.”

  I hesitated, waiting to hear the rest of the story.

  “Your father and from what I’ve learned your grandfather as well were very intelligent in how they handled their business. Your father also had mixed feelings about his sons being involved.”

  Bristling, I fisted my hands. How dare the fucking Russian assume to know anything about my father’s thoughts or desires.

  He inched closer, taking his time as if he owned the entire city himself. “He was cautious in releasing information, particular in accepting payment in lieu of keeping dark and often dangerous secrets. He was also an avid player of the game of chess.”

  When he took a sip of his drink, I had the distinct feeling he had nothing else to say. “And your point?”

  Aleksandr chuckled as he swirled his glass, holding what was left of his drink into the light. “The best information is often the hardest to find. Often, people are looking in the wrong places when everything they need is right under their nose.”