Arranged By The Bravta King

10

Mikhail

The spacious bedroom has a king-sized bed, an impressive walk-in closet, and a lavish ensuite bathroom. The locked windows offer a breathtaking view of the city. A beautiful cage for beautiful women. I won't deny Maria's beauty, but I also know the dangers hidden behind her beauty: it's a distraction that will kill a lesser man.

She stumbles and unexpectedly, I reach out to catch her. A current rushes through us when my fingers close around her wrist. Her breath catches in her throat, but she doesn't pull away. She blinks, and the ferocity that had been erased earlier returns to the surface.

"Let me go," she hisses.

I oblige, but only because I know she has nowhere to run. Maria rubs her wrist where my fingers were and throws a baleful look my way.

"I don't know what you think I've done," she says, trying to keep her voice even. "Or what you want from me, but I swear I didn't do anything."

"Your phone." I ignore her and extend my hand.

"I don't have one," she insists. "I told you that."

I scoff loudly. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Believe whatever you want," she snaps back. "But I don't have a phone."

My eyes narrow as my voice lowers to a menacing tone. "Take off your dress."

Maria's eyes widen for a moment before she scurries to the corner of the room. I follow her with long strides that corner her effortlessly and pin her against the floor. My body presses down on hers and she struggles to break free. But she doesn't scream, not even when my hand roams across the thin material of her dress, searching for hidden pockets.

My fingers dance across her skin, feeling the slight contours of her panties and bra. No wallet. No phone. Exactly like she said. My finger slips beneath her bra strap, and for a monstrous second, I contemplate ripping it off her to verify my findings.

"f**k you!" she screams, kicking and trying to bite me. "You pig! You sick monster!"

My hand moves lower until it feels a small square near the hem of her dress.

She freezes when I reach under her dress. Skin touches skin, sending a current of electricity through both of us. A sharp gasp tumbles from her throat when my touch grazes along her leg until my thumb is brushing against a thin pocket near her thigh. She's trembling again, and my c**k hardens shamefully at the position she's in.

With one fluid motion, I pull the Metro Card from her dress pocket and inspect it before I am overwhelmed by the temptation her body offers. Entirely ordinary. There's not even a SIM card taped to it.

I push myself off Maria, my body reluctant to leave her side. She's telling the truth. It gives me pause, but I quickly shove aside any doubts that creep into my mind.

She could still be hiding something.

"I told you I had nothing, you bastard," she pants as I step back.

Her face is flushed, and her dress is hiked up to her hips. Strands of auburn hair fall across her eyes, still burning with defiance and anger. A single tantalizing shoulder is exposed, and her hands fly up to cover what's left of her dignity. Blood throbs toward my c**k, and I see her eyes dart down quickly. Another streak of red flashes across her face as she quickly averts her eyes.

I know she felt the same thing I did. The same animal heat that nearly caused me to lose all control just now.

This girl is dangerous in a way that she doesn't even realize.

"Obedience will set you free," I relent, opening the door. "Remember that as you try to get some rest," I tell Maria coldly before I make my way back toward the door.

"Wait!" She suddenly scrambles up to her feet, footsteps pattering as she rushes after me.

I turn around at the doorframe and block her exit with my body. She stops short and stares at me. The two of us remain silent, neither sure what to do next, until I slip a key out of my pocket.

Her eyes widen when she sees it. Realization dawns and fresh panic rises to her face. All traces of defiance and anger vanish in an instant, and all I see now is abject fear.

My threats and touches might have alarmed her.

But the sight of the key terrifies her.

"No! Don't lock the door!" Tears well beyond the rim of her eyes, and her voice transforms into a ragged, desperate shriek that seems to be pulled from the depths of her soul. "Don't lock me in! I'll do anything!"

A flicker of guilt hits my gut, but I will it away. I cannot afford mercy now.

"PLEASE!" she shrieks again. "PLEASE DON'T LOCK ME IN!"

But I do not give in to her desperate pleas, and ruthlessly shut the door in her face. Another wail rises behind the solid material, and I hear the sound of fists pounding against it. I turn the key and give the door a firm tug to ensure that it is locked. Muffled sobs reach me, almost giving me pause, but I quickly shove aside any doubts and wisps of mercy that creep into my mind.

Pity kills fools.