“She’ll understand if I’m late.”
“You won’t be late.” He spins me around and pops me in the ass to get me going.
If he was trying to intimidate me, he hasn’t been paying any attention the past few weeks. I stop on the first step of the winding staircase and look over my shoulder at him.
“We’re home now, Artem,” I say, turning around so I can face him, eye to eye thanks to the height of the step. “You aren’t hiding me away in the woods anymore. If you’re going to be all bossy, maybe I’ll go stay with Kaz.”
There’s more weight to the air than my threat, but the way the storm clouds roll into his gaze, I’m confident he’s taking me seriously.
“Your place is here.” He leans into me. “And if you run, Babygirl, I’ll find you. I always have, and I always will.”
He steps up onto the stair with me, making me have to lean back. I grab onto the railing to keep from falling over.
“But if I have to chase you down again, ever, you will feel more than the weight of my belt on your ass.” His eyes wander over my face, then lower to my throat. “I will collar you and chain you to my bed until you learn where your place is.”
A sane woman would see this threat as a red flag, but I lost all sanity the first time his lips brushed mine.
“I know you’re trying to threaten me, Artem. But at this point, I think we both know what saying that is doing to me.”
His eyelids lower. He licks at his bottom lip.
“What is it doing to you?” His nostrils flare. His chest rises and falls faster. “Tell me.”
He uses the gravelly voice, the one that’s a cross between losing control and taking it completely from my grasp.
“I think you know.”
“Say it.” He grabs my hip, squeezing. “You started this, remember that.”
There’s a warning that I should probably heed, but it’s been a long day, and emotionally I’m exhausted. I want my brain to turn off. I need the thoughts and emotions to just take a fucking rest. What I need is my daddy.
Heat rushes over my face as the words clog my throat. It’s one thing to realize how wet your panties are at the image of this insanely hot, unthinkably large man strapping a leather collar around your throat. It’s an entirely different beast having to put voice to it.
He moves his hand from my hip, unbuckling his belt with one hand and ripping it free from his pants. A small moan wiggles out of me.
“What does it do to you when I do this?” He wraps his thick, supple leather belt around my neck and slides it through the buckle. Pulling it tight, it snaps around my throat, and he holds the loose end like a leash.
“Artem,” I whine like a spoiled little girl who just wants her prize without having to play the game, but he’ll have none of it.
“Are your panties wet?” He takes pity, giving me a question I simply nod my head to. A wicked grin splays across his mouth. “How wet?”
And now we’re back to short answer questions.
“Very.” I manage. He pulls on the belt, tightening it. “They’re soaked. I want you, Artem. So fucking bad.” I finally say, the heat of my face exploding down my neck and through my entire body.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he orders, shifting his position down a step so I have enough room to follow his instructions.
But I don’t.
I stand frozen. When I’d gone through Tony’s things after everything that happened, I found images, short videos of the things he and his brothers did to the women they trafficked. One of them was making a woman walk on a lead to a cage where he locked her inside. She’d been beaten badly, blood dried on her thighs. It had made me vomit.
“Elana,” Artem’s voice breaks through the memory, and he’s caressing my face. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes search mine. My mouth goes dry.
“Say no, Elana. If you want me to stop, say no.”
He’s not Tony. Or his brothers. This is Artem and he would never do anything to hurt me.