THE GATEKEEPER

But no. Neither of us is going to get relief again tonight. She's my prisoner now. That thought prompts me to deliver one more sharp slap to her reddened ass.

I push her to sit in one of my straight-backed kitchen chairs where I attach her ankles to the legs. Aw, fuck. Now her knees are parted. That juicy flesh is eye-level, teasing me.

I lift my gaze to hers. Her eyes are wide, those coral lips parted. Her breath trembles in and out at a ragged pace. Of course, she knows what I'm thinking.

Wonders which direction this will go.

I square my shoulders and stand. Nyet. She's not my plaything. She's an enemy trying to get past my gates.

I won't allow her to.

I wind several lengths around her chest to secure her to the back of the chair then check her purse. I find nothing of interest. I examine her phone, since she brought it with her downstairs, checking texts or recent calls, but there aren't any at all. Almost like the history has been cleared. Then again, maybe she just brought the phone to use the flashlight function.

What was she up to at my desk?

I get an ice pack from the freezer for her head. I wrap it in a towel and bring it to her.

Of course, now I have to hold it because her hands are tied. I place one foot on either side of her knee and press the ice against the puffy lump above her left eye. I use my other hand to catch the opposite side of her head to hold it in place. I tip her face up.

She glares at me from under her pale lashes.

"One twist and I could snap this pretty neck of yours."

She shifts her gaze to stare through my chest. "You won't." She has a stubborn, resolute look.

Blyad.'

She already knows I'm too soft to hurt her.

"What makes you so sure?" I make my tone gruff. Menacing.

Normally, I frighten women and men alike. I'm big, covered in tattoos, and look like I could eat their mothers for breakfast.

Her gaze jogs left and returns. "The ice pack was a big clue."

Right. I tipped my hand there, didn't I?

I give her what I hope is an alarming smile. "That doesn't mean I don't want to hurt you."

She stiffens and strains against her bonds, but her nipples bead up under the t-shirt.

"There are many forms of torture, little warrior. I'll find ones suited to such a pretty package." I stroke my thumb down her cheek, then remove the ice and leave her.

I keep the light on in the living room, walk to my bedroom, and for the second time tonight, take off my clothes and climb under the covers.

Kira can simmer there in her chair in a lit room for the rest of the night. We'll see what a little sleep deprivation does to get my little Valkyrie to talk.

If that doesn't work, I will have to figure out other ways to make her sing.

Sleep deprivation.

Good start, but it won't work. I learned to control my mind years ago. I had to crawl out of the hole I was born into. To make something of myself after the bratva killed my father and ruined my sister.

I close my eyes and focus on my breath. Tell myself to fall into a deep and restorative sleep. Sink deeper with each exhale. I tell myself I will awake feeling refreshed and renewed, knowing exactly how to escape.

My eyes flicker back open. Maykl stands in front of me, staring down with a troubled frown on his face.

I don't know what time it is, but I know I've been through at least one sleep cycle, maybe two. It's not morning yet-no light shines through the blinds on his large windows.

Maykl kneels in front of me and cuts loose the wrap on my ankles and then my chest. He closes his meaty hand around my upper arm and hauls me to my feet.

I wince and stumble as the blood returns to my feet. Maykl grabs the roll of duct tape and maneuvers me into his bedroom. He leaves the light off. "Get in the bed."

Somehow, I don't think he's ordering me to his bed for sex. That would be the logical conclusion, but he doesn't have that sexual edge to him right now that he had earlier. Like when he spanked me and slid his fingers between my legs. If he is interested in sex, I'm not sure what I would do.

Whether I should fight and show him I don't want it or return to my seduction of the enemy play.

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I don't know whether I'm afraid of Maykl forcing sex on me or excited by it.

If I base my determination on our last encounter, I'm excited. But what he showed me last time is that he enjoys a little violence with sex. And if that was how he acted before he discovered I'm the enemy, how much rougher would he be? What would he demand of me?

I crawl in the bed, and he rolls me to my side and tapes my ankles together. He winds something soft and silky-must be the tie he used on my wrists yesterday when our sex was playful-and ties it snugly around my neck. It's not tight enough to choke me but enough that there's pressure there. Then he lies down behind me.

The tie around my neck tugs as he picks up the ends of it and wraps them around his fist.

"Try to get away this time, Valkiriya, and you'll find out how willing I am to snap your neck."

The corners of my lips tick up as I realize what just happened.

Oh, Maykl. Such empty threats. I smile to myself in the darkness.

He wasn't even willing to leave me to sleep in a chair all night. This guy may look like a monster-and I'm sure is a monster on many levels-but he's a fool when it comes to women.

Or when it comes to me.

I quash that thought as soon as it rises.

Of course, there's nothing special about me.