the locks. The doors might be closed, but they weren’t locked unless he’d fixed the panel, which I didn’t think he had.
Suddenly, he grabbed me by my neck, swinging me to the wall and pressing my back against it.
He leaned into me, his face coming close to mine, feral rage distorting his hard features. The orange eyes aglow, his lips stained blood-red by the wine, any shred of his usual composure was blown away. I wondered in an oddly detached way if he would kill me right then and there.
“You could’ve died,” he gritted through his teeth. A flash of unguarded vulnerability flickered through his eyes.
Fear.
For me?
“You would have been dead if I didn’t stop you,” he kept saying as if struggling to comprehend that fact.
“You would’ve died, too, had I pushed that button,” I bit out.
“Why didn’t you?” The fury in his stare settled down as something deeper and darker moved in.
“I couldn’t...” I drew in a shuddered breath. The adrenaline receded, leaving nothing but deep sorrow behind. “Then we both would have been dead,” I said softly. “Not sure about you, but for me... For me, it might have been for the best.”
His thick eyebrows drew together, intensity sharpening his gaze.
“You’ve chosen to live,” he reminded me.
I swallowed against his hand on my throat, his hold firm but not oppressive.
“Because I had hope, Vrateus. Hope to get out of here, eventually. There is no point, now. What kind of life do I have ahead of me? Being locked up in this room? Used as your sex toy?”
“My toy?” he sounded confused. “From what I know about sex toys, they’re used solely for one’s sexual satisfaction.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not what you are to me.” His eyes flickered between mine, something warm and intense brewing behind them. “Svetlana, do you dislike me touching you so much that you would rather risk dying than continue with it?” he asked suddenly.
I wished I could lie about that, but his touch was the one thing I enjoyed. As much as I detested being brought into the mess hall on those nights, I started looking forward to the moment when his hands connected with my skin.
Even thinking about it now sent a ripple of pleasure through my chest. Its warmth melted the sorrow away.
“It’s not your touching that I dislike, Vrateus...”
How could he not understand that I found being paraded naked in front of hundreds of slobbering, masturbating men degrading?
But then I believed I knew how. Having grown up in the savage environment of the Dark Anomaly, Vrateus simply wouldn’t know all the moral implications of some actions.
Only now, after having been immersed in life on the Anomaly for some time, could I see it from his perspective: I was not physically hurt, and his crew was satisfied. As far as he was concerned, he kept me alive and safe by doing what he had to.
He wouldn’t know why I resented it because I had never really explained the reasons. I had mistakenly assumed he would have the same understanding of morals and values I had. It could never be the same, though, as his background was so different from mine.
Obviously, he believed he had saved me and had been protecting me ever since.
“I like it when you touch me,” I confessed.
What did it matter now if he knew the truth?
Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
“Like?” My words seemed to send a charge through his body.
I sensed his shudder as he pressed himself closer to me. Another wave of warmth rushed over me, sending tingles over my skin. Needing more of the rush, I pressed my hands to the hard planes of his chest.
“You, Vrateus, turned out to be the most unexpected surprise of the Anomaly, for me,” I said softly.
His eyes flashed with heat. His arms shook with strain as he struggled to keep whatever distance still remained between us.
“I don’t understand this...what I feel for you, Svetlana” he groaned. “Why are you in my thoughts? Constantly. When you’re not around, I need to see you. And when you’re near me, I feel like touching you.” He slid his gaze to my lips, his thumb stroking my neck. “It’s never enough. No matter how close I get, I wish to be closer.” His heart thundered wildly against my chest. Sliding his hand up my neck, he cupped my jaw, brushing his thumb along my bottom lip. “And when I touch you, I want to taste you,” he whispered, bringing his mouth closer, so close, his breath