Jaya jerked against his hold and then cried out sharply when pain streaked through her scalp. She twisted sideways and swung her fist toward his face. Ivan caught her hand easily, grabbed her around the middle and yanked her into his lap. She had less than a second to struggle when she found herself swung forward. She screamed as the table rushed at her head, the image of the dead servant flashing through her brain, but Ivan swiftly turned her to the side so she was simply restrained with her back to his chest and her arms locked behind her back. Her hair was tangled in his fist so her head was forced back against his chest. She was held completely immobile, but unhurt.
Frightened, breathing heavily, Jaya kept her mouth shut, knowing if she angered him further she could very well be risking her life. Though she was panting, her breaths bursting from her mouth in wild gasps, Ivan wasn't even remotely winded. He simply leaned against her, mastering her until she calmed down, as though he were breaking a wild animal. After a few moments she gradually began to relax in his hold, her breathing evening out. The heat from his chest seeped into her back, warming her- and somehow reassuring her that he wasn't going to brutally murder her. At least not yet.
He shifted her against his chest, his grip on her arms loosening ever so slightly. Then he moved a swath of hair from her face and neck, smoothing it back. She tensed but didn't fight him as he petted her hair. Finally, he leaned down and said in her ear, "Are you ready to finish our game?"
She nodded quickly. "Yes, Ivan."
He ran his thumb behind her ear, pressing it gently into the hollow just underneath. Shivers coursed right down her neck and through her spine. She lifted her shoulder in reflex to shrug him away, but he simply cupped her arm and ran his thumb across the bare skin of her shoulder blade.
"So tempting to make you call me master, to see you force that word past those stubborn lips," he said, his voice back to its cool cadence. "But I do so enjoy hearing my name come from those pretty lips. I wonder what it will sound like when you scream it?"
And Jaya wondered if she would be screaming his name in a bed or a torture chamber, because with Ivan she suspected it could go either way. "Please, Ivan, I'll be good," she begged. "Can you let me up?"
Her shoulders were beginning to cramp and she despised the intimacy he was creating between them. The faster they finished this farce of a chess game the faster she could go back to her dungeon and try to plan an escape.
"You will sit quietly on my lap and play the game?" he asked. "No more outbursts."
"I'll be good," she said, trying to sound as if she meant it.
He eased her off the table, untangling his hand from her hair and gentling his grip. Jaya shook her head a little, amazed that she was unhurt. His hold had been tight, but he hadn't ripped any of her hair or even bruised her arms. In fact, he'd been incredibly careful, skillfully taking her down without so much as disturbing their chess game, despite her struggles. Though the thought had occurred to her before, it became starkly apparent now, that this man could do absolutely anything to her, quickly, ruthlessly and she would be helpless to defend herself.
"Sit, Jaya," he said, resuming his own seat and pulling the chair back to the table.
Gripping the edge of the table she lowered herself gingerly onto his lap. He took her hips in his large hands and moved her until she was settled with her back against his shoulder. Then he pulled the table closer so they could both reach the chess pieces. Jaya expected to feel uncomfortable, and part of her hated the way he held her trapped between him and the table, her legs between his. But she wasn't exactly uncomfortable. His thigh was hard and muscular, but not rigid against her ass.
"Your move," he whispered, his breath touching her shoulder, making her hyper-aware of their proximity.
She glanced at the board, uncaring of the outcome of the game so long as it ended soon. She reached for a pawn, but his voice stopped her. "If you throw the game, then we'll play another and another until I'm satisfied I conquered you in a fair game. I want to see you fight for your life, Jaya."
She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes for a second and moved her hand from the pawn to her queen, changing her original move. Ivan was always several steps ahead of her, picking through her thoughts, blocking her strategies. When she set the queen down, trapping his rook in a corner, he splayed his hand across her belly, running his thumb over the bare skin.
"Good girl," he murmured. "The win will be so much more satisfying for the fight."
Sick fuck, she thought to herself, trying to keep the words from bursting forth. She shifted in his lap, trying to find a better position. His body stiffened for a second, his hand tightening on her stomach. A vibration seemed to go right through him, like a small jolt. The tension released slowly and he reached for the board without studying his move the way he'd done when she was sitting across from him. Her mouth nearly fell open when he moved his rook out of the path of her queen- and into the path of her castle. She raised an eyebrow and held her breath, wondering if he would notice his mistake. He pulled his hand back from the board and settled it on his thigh, right next to her knee.
Keeping her face averted, Jaya smirked. Perhaps she should be courting his attentions, apparently the distraction made him careless. She swept his rook aside with a flourish. He said nothing but continued to play as though he hadn't lost an important piece. Jaya continued to shift in his lap, occasionally brushing her arm against his or tossing her hair back against his shoulder. She could tell by the gradual stiffening of his body that she was affecting him.
Within minutes she had the upper hand. Several of his pieces, including both of his castles and a knight were in her possession. In fact, she was a little disappointed. Ivan had shown better strategizing than this in every aspect of his life. How was it possible that she could dominate him on the chess board? Finally, she was setting his queen up for a fall, when he murmured, "Watch your back, sweetheart."
Taking him literally, Jaya looked at him over her shoulder, frowning. He reached over her and took her white queen out with his pawn. Her mouth fell open. She'd been so busy trying to maneuver him into a corner she stopped paying attention to one of his least important pieces. She should've known better. Once her queen was gone, he systematically took out each one of her pieces before she could recover from the loss, then he pushed her king into a corner. It was a hard-fought game, but she suspected the conclusion had always been foregone. Ivan didn't lose and he didn't get distracted, not even by his captive.
"I am not so much of an amateur as to be taken in by a beautiful face and curvy body," Ivan said coldly, taking her king, though the move was unnecessary as the game was already over. He'd done it to prove a point, to show her she was truly beaten. His arm tightened ruthlessly around her stomach and he pulled her back against his chest, speaking rapidly in her ear, his accent more pronounced than ever. "Every move I make is a calculated step to force your hand, to force you to show me what you're made of, Jaya. I'm learning everything I can about you, and you are making it so easy with your childish plays."
"Ivan," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. "I can't breathe!" She gripped his arm in both hands and pulled, trying to get him to stop squeezing. Despite the cold delivery to his message, he was rattled. Something about her shook him up.
He released her, moving his arms so abruptly that she nearly fell off his lap. She reached for the table, gripping it and sucking in deep breaths of air. She turned her head to look at him, her dark hair spilling across her back and arm, the sun beating down on top of them. Tears of anger sparkled in her eyes. "You may be a manipulative asshole who's learning everything you can about me using disgusting, degrading methods," she snarled. "But I'm learning about you too, Ivan."
"You think so, little girl," he said, his voice cutting like ice. She knew he was close to the edge, knew she shouldn't be pushing him.
"Oh yes," she said, her desire to strike back making her reckless. "Your accent tells me you're probably of Balkan descent, not from Switzerland, where you like people to think you were born." His face grew stony and if she had an ounce of self-preservation she probably should have quit speaking right then. "Given your age and shitty attitude, I would say late 70's, Bosnia. I'm guessing, given the style of the times, you were likely somehow involved in uprisings, rebellions, mass killings, all that good stuff. But what side were you on, Ivan? Did you fight for independence, for your country's right to be free or did you help hand it over on a platter? Is that what turned you into this cold, unfeeling monster?"
She would have said more, but Ivan exploded out from underneath her, shoving her against the table. She turned and brought her arms up to defend herself, positive he was about to murder her, but Ivan was striding rapidly away, leaving her and the scattered chess pieces for his man to deal with. Staring after his departing back she realized that Ivan just gave away more than he ever had before. Without words, he confirmed her guess.