(DASHA)
This had to be a trap of some kind.
Nikolai wasn't seriously going to let me walk around with my hands free, was he? I'd been under the impression he was intelligent, some kind of mafia wunderkind. So why wasn't he worried about my retaliation?
Because he doesn't think I'm capable of it.
Good. Let him underestimate me—and when I shove a knife in his heart I'll have the last laugh.
I rose off the mattress and slowly stood. My body was sore but still aroused, thanks to the mafioso's mouth and fingers. If only he didn't affect me like this, but it was like he reached into my brain and plucked out my darkest thoughts.
Wouldn't you like to have several men worship your body at once?
Duh, yes. I mean, wouldn't every woman? Maybe Nikolai wasn't so perceptive after all.
My captor was sitting at the table out on the deck, calmly pouring sparkling water, unconcerned. But there was a noticeable bulge in his jeans.
