Page 40 of Captive Vows
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 trulyownme—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 mybody? 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 gettingclarification. 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, histhingto 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.”
