“Vadim, please—”
He slams into me before I can even finish voicing the plea. I hum in ecstasy, grasping for any part of him I can reach. My nails pierce the flesh of his forearms, but he moves, capturing both my wrists and pinning them flat to the bed.
Will he shackle me again? My heartbeat picks up at the prospect, but he merely entwines our fingers as our gazes reconnect. Somehow this tethering is more intimate. I feel even more helpless, rendered with no protection from the emotions spilling between us with every thrust. I grip him in return so tightly my hands shake.
My eyes threaten to roll as he rocks into me, taking me with a skill that dissolves every coherent thought, leaving only heat behind. Desire.
Panting, he brings his mouth near my ear, rasping, “You are mine.”
I come around him, gasping his name.
And I let myself toy with the idea that his ownership may not be such a bad thing…
My list be damned.
Chapter Eight
We spend most of the morning in bed before finally venturing downstairs to eat one of Ena’s frozen meals. Afterward, we put the finishing touches on Magda’s room, hanging the final remaining pictures and arranging her blankets.
Just after midnight, we wind up in bed, our limbs entwined. I drift off cocooned in his arms, but the second I wake up, I know that everything has changed.
It’s as if the air has become tinged with some unfamiliar scent, shifting the careful dynamic between us. Vadim rises from the bed without a word, his back to me, his fingers tearing through his hair. I roll onto my side and watch him, my heart swelling with too many emotions to decipher.
Today is the day everything between us changes. For better or for worse?
“We should get dressed,” he says, his tone too neutral to give me an inkling either way.
He enters the closet and begins rummaging through the hanging clothing.
“The blue one,” I tell him. “With the tie your brother brought you.”
He shoots me an odd look, but as I crane my neck and sit upright, I see that he’s complied, tugging on the navy suit with a black dress shirt.
I stand and follow him, stretching my sore limbs.
“The emerald dress,” he tells me as I start to appraise my options. “With the cream jacket.”
“An interesting color profile, Mr. Gorgoshev,” I remark while I pick out the items in question. Once fully dressed, I eye myself and sigh in resignation.
Not only is the man sexy as hell, but he has an eye for fashion to match.
“I look like a very respectable fake wife,” I say, surprised by the overall effect.
He comes to stand beside me, his expression approving. “Thank you for doing this for me,” he says, leaning in to press his lips against my forehead. “I promise to find a safe place to reassemble your playground so that you may enjoy it fully.”
I practically melt, and only the faint reminder at the back of my skull keeps me from trying to strip him naked—Magda.
Together, we enter the hallway, but as Vadim ventures downstairs, I take a detour to the next door over and peek inside. Sure enough, all of my charming apparatuses have vanished, leaving the room starkly bare. Surprisingly, I’m not too heartbroken as I descend the steps and enter the kitchen.
While we wait, I force feed Vadim a croissant, and I’m in the middle of goading him into drinking a glass of orange juice when a knock sounds at the front door.
He doesn’t move. I’m the one who has to stand first and take his hand, leading the way to the front door. My heart pounds as I reach for the doorknob, only to have Vadim beat me to it. Gradually, he pulls the door open, revealing a smiling Ms. Anderson.
And beside her, is a little girl who looks as though she’d rather be anywhere else.
“Good morning!” Ms. Anderson beams and ushers the girl beside her inside. “I hope we aren’t too early.”
“N-No.” Vadim shakes his head. Then he turns his attention to a small gray suitcase resting on the paved walkway. “Is that all of your things?”
Magda meets his gaze without flinching, her blue gaze electric. “The decent things,” she says in that lilting voice. She steps forward, examining the foyer with an unreadable expression. God, the parallels between her and the man beside her mount up by the second.
The intensity of their gaze. The way they move, holding themselves with utmost confidence. Even their distaste, visible in how they purse their lips, their eyes narrowing.
“This is where I’m going to live now?” she asks.
“Of course, honey.” Ms. Anderson chuckles nervously while Vadim grabs the suitcase, bringing it inside. “We…we talked about this, remember? Mr. Vadim and Ms. Tiffany are your new placement.”
“Hmph.” Magda turns her gaze to me, her arms crossed. She’s carrying something crushed to her chest. White. Small. It isn’t until she turns that I recognize the object from a different angle—an ivory teddy bear. Only…
“That’s an interesting toy,” I croak. No wonder the Robinsons were so disturbed.
Magda looks down while Ms. Anderson’s cheeks promptly turn ten shades redder.
“His name is It,” the girl declares, brandishing the bear by its head. A head that looks as though it’s been ripped off at one point, only to be crudely sewn back on with a series of stitches in garishly red thread. “I don’t really like him.”
“Yes, well, Magda is very creative,” Ms. Anderson explains with a nervous laugh. “Especially when it comes to her toys.”
“Ah… Creative.” I swallow hard and cut my gaze to Vadim. His expression is more guarded than ever.
“Well, I have my morning free,” Ms. Anderson says quickly. “I would love to stay and help Magda get settled. I—” Frowning, she reaches into her briefcase as
