He had already ordered a few dishes for us and I enjoyed them all. For a feared mobster, Milo was charming. He was able to get me talking. Before I knew it, I was opening up to him about my private life.
And he did all that without revealing much about himself.
I told him about how my father, Viktor was born and raised in American. My mother had been the one with deep Russian roots. Despite living in Russia practically all my life, I had barely made an effort to learn the language well.
Some things Milo said to me went over my head. He promised to teach me Russian within a few weeks. I believed him.
Despite how pleasant dinner was, I still had questions of my own. I didn't like feeling like I was on the edge.
"What do you want with me?" I finally caved and asked.
He stopped chewing and stared at me. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed the food in his mouth. "Isn't it obvious? I want you, Emilie."
"It's been weeks and you have barely touched me. It's a little hard to believe what you say."
"I thought you would be glad if I left you alone," he answered casually. "Besides, you're not ready for what I have to offer."
What the fuck does that mean?
"I heard you hurt all your previous exes…from multiple people…"
I looked away immediately. I didn't want to be faced with the truth when he finally admitted the women in his life ended up hurt. Milo didn't strike me as the kind of man to lie.
"Who told you that?" He asked. Even though his face remained impassive, I heard the anger in the undertone of his voice.
Fuck, I didn't want to get Irina in trouble. She would make my life miserable–her body-shaming was already enough.
"It doesn't matter. Is it true?"
Darkness flashed in his eyes. He didn't like my question.
"You shouldn't listen to gossip. People whisper lies all the time."
His answer was simple and to the point. He didn't confirm or deny what I had asked him. It made me all the more afraid to be in his presence.
Why then am I so turned on?
It was probably because I wasn't wearing any underwear–he had them in his pockets. And for some reason, his eyes wouldn't stay off my cleavage.
With other men at the bar, their gazes had disgusted me. With Milo, it only made me feel attractive. He had a hold on me that I didn't quite understand.
"You're a dangerous man, Milo. Why won't you leave me alone?" I asked in a voice that was barely a whisper.
He shrugged like we were talking about the weather. "You don't want me to let you go. I touch you and you shiver, Emilie. You're as crazy about me as I am about you?"
He was right. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to explore the attraction I felt for him. Either way, I wouldn't tell him that.
"You never touch me. Are there other women?"
I knew I didn't have the right to ask, especially because the man was forcing me to be with him. I should have been glad his attention wasn't on me. Yet, I was jealous.
"Are you jealous, little girl?" He asked. There was a huge grin on his face when he asked that. I'd never seen a more beautiful sight.
I wondered why he didn't smile oftenly if he looked so good when he did.
I shook my head refusing to be caught in his spell. "I'm not jealous. I hate you."
"Oh yeah? Is that why you're clenching your thighs so tightly?"
Instinctively, I clenched them further and stuttered out, "Y-You s-stole my underwear…"
"And it's in my pockets wet with your arousal…" he paused. "...come here, pretty girl."
I contemplated refusing. However, I found myself standing up and walking towards him. I didn't understand how he could easily convince me to do whatever he wanted.
I told myself I obeyed him because he was threatening me but deep down I knew it wasn't true. I obeyed him because a deep primal part of me wanted his…praise.
Milo pushed his chair back and stood. With his tall height, he easily towered over me.
"Kneel for me, little girl."
I stared at him incredulously thinking he was joking–he had to be joking. There was no way he wanted me to get on my knees for him. However, the more I looked into his stormy eyes, the more I realized he was serious.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
Milo said that statement gently but I knew better than to believe he was understanding. I swallowed and weighed my options. Obeying Milo seemed like the only good decision I could make.
I slowly got on my knees and looked up at Milo. He cursed and groaned. With one of his hands on my cheek, he stroked my bottom lip with his finger.
He tightly closed his eyes and opened them.
"You're too good for me…" he whispered. I was certain I wasn't supposed to have heard that statement.
"I'm not that innocent!" I yelled. I was tired of being referred to as the little girl. I was a grown woman and I could handle myself.
He grabbed my neck roughly. "You are. You're not ready to give yourself to me."
"I'm ready–"
He cut me off by lifting me to my feet and glaring at me. The deadly look on his face sent shivers down my spine.
"I don't enjoy…normal sex…" his voice almost trailed away. "I'm a dominant man in bed. My preferences are…rough. You're not ready to relinquish control of your body to me."
'He beats up women in bed.' Irina's words replayed in my mind. Fear so crippling bubbled up inside me. What exactly had I signed up for by agreeing to be with Milo?
Milo's eyes darkened and he let me go and stumbled backwards.
"A car is waiting outside to take you home. You should go right now."
He didn't even bother to look at me. He was staring off into the distance. I didn't know what I had said or done to set him off like that. Even though I was afraid of him, I still wanted to be near him.
"Milo–"
"Go!"