Rosalind I t’s starting to get dark out, and I can’t concentrate on the book. It’s one of those blockbusters, an over the top spy story that’s been made into three different movies and is something I imagine someone like Rush reading. Someone knocks on the door, and Mia appears, a harried expression around the edges of her mouth.
“I need a new maid,” she says, so soft I’m not sure I’m meant to hear it.
“You only had one?” The words are out before I can stop them, but she doesn’t seem bothered.
“Nikolai isn’t a fan of a houseful of people getting in his way. Yes, I have help. I meant a competent one.”
She means Sylvie. The girl pulls at something in my memory, something that was said before I was taken, but I can’t grab it.
“Dinner will be late.” Then she nods to me. “When everyone’s home. If you want something now, I can send it up.”
“A phone?”
She presses her lips together on either a smile or a shard of disapproval, I don’t know which. Then, she leaves.
I want to call Genius. It burns in me with guilt. I should have thought about her more after Nikolai took me, but then, I didn’t give anything a lot of thought, besides trying to survive and work out the rules of his world, while also dealing with all the humiliation and dark, vibrating excitement he set off in me.
I don’t think he’s going to kill me anymore-willingly, at least-but I still don’t know how I’m going to survive this chaos. He wants me to put myself in danger, and I…I might let him. I’m not even sure why. There’s a part of me that’s doing it because he asked, even though I know he’s using me, like everyone else in his world. There’s a part that thinks if I do it, I’ll be free. Then, there’s a part that wants to do it to extract revenge on my father.
Thinking of that asshole skeeves me out, so I strip down and go into the bathroom, turning on the shower. I start to lather up, and my fingers slip down with the sponge, between my thighs. Maybe…
There’s no camera in here, at least not one I’ve found. Though my body is tingling, my clit starting to ache, I just clean. I don’t spend time touching and exploring and raising the pleasure to release. A dark thrill throbs inside me over the fact that I’m obeying him.
Crap. I shove my thoughts away as I reach for the shampoo and start on my hair.
I need a plan. There’s not much I can do until I can get out of here. This fortress of a house is too guarded, too under lock and key to escape, but maybe I can keep my eye out for a phone.
When someone has one, I can steal it the moment they put it down and call Genius. Of course, there are pins. I can try and watch for those, see if I can catch one. Maybe I can ask for some take out, or pretend to be sick and have them call a doctor.
“You’re not thinking, idiot,” I say to myself. True, because there’s stuff like thumb prints and face ID. A doctor could be good. I could beg them to call for me. “Yeah, and maybe find a pigeon, train it, and have it fly to Genius with a message tied to its leg. Good plan, Rosalind. Really stellar.”
It’s all silly. No doctor would step foot in here unless they worked for Nikolai. His staff doesn’t wander around on the phone. I wouldn’t be able to get into his or his cousin’s, and trying to escape, not that I was even planning on it, isn’t even a pipe dream.
Too many men. Too many guns. So much surveillance.
Suddenly, a shiver runs down my spine as the hot water sluices over me and the clink of metal on tile grabs my attention. My breath grows thick as I slowly turn. I know who it is, and I’m not wrong.
Nikolai.
My legs tremble and even in the shower, the heat in me pools.
He looks like hell, and the most beautiful thing I’ve seen. Even in the shower, my mouth goes dry. His gaze is bleak and hot as he rips off his tie, and to my horror, red mars both his knuckles and his white shirt. His face- it’s on his face.
Blood.
I don’t think. Heart slamming against my ribs, I shove open the glass door and stumble out.
“Oh, my God, are you okay? You’re bleeding!”
Somewhere in the back of my head, I’m aware of the ridiculousness of the situation, but I don’t care. I reach for him.
“Not mine.”
I stop, and then I turn, like I can run and hide in the shower. I barely take a step before Nikolai’s fingers catch in my heavy wet hair, and he pulls me in. His hand drops to the back of my neck where he grips me, spins me to face him. In an instant, I’m up against him, breathing hard.
He walks me back, still against me, his eyes glittering with dark, black flame. I can’t breathe as he steps, fully dressed, into the shower with me.
The water beats down, but he doesn’t stop, not until I’m pressed against the cool slick tile. “W-What are you doing?”
Nikolai doesn’t answer. His face is wet and now blood free, and I’m so turned on I might die. Then he swoops in and his mouth slams down on mine in a deep, brutal kiss. He forces his tongue into my mouth, my lips parting, and I hate him, love him, resent him. I’m hot and angry and melting. I need him like I need this kiss, like I need air.
So, I kiss him back, just as hard, just as deep, just as brutal. It’s a mating, a wild thing that beats and bleeds between us, and I plaster myself to him, rip at his shirt, try to free him from his trousers. He lifts his mouth, and that hard black flame is bleak, reaching inferno as he spins me, pins me up against the wall, kicking my bare feet apart with his shoes.
He’s hotter than the water as he pushes against me. The hard girth of his erection is there and he rubs against me, biting down hard on my shoulder as one of his hands grabs my breast to twist and pull my nipple.
I cry out, a yelp of pain and pleasure, as the electric bolt caused by his fingers shoots straight to my center. Then he lets go, dropping his hand between my legs where he starts to rub and pinch my clit. I scream and moan because it’s that hot, that painful, that glorious. Then he goes further, shoving two fingers in me to fuck me with rough, hard thrusts.
I’m on the brink so fast, I can’t believe it. “Do not fucking come, Rose.”
“I-I don’t think I can stop it.”
“You can or this will be the last orgasm you ever get from me.”
“No…” The word comes on its own. He bites my ear, sucks my lobe, and then he puts his mouth right there as he keeps thrusting. “Are you ready to come? Are you right there, Rose? Do you want me to say come?”
“Y-Yes!”
“You can’t. Hold it, Rose. Hold it.”
Oh, God. I try and think about my hate, but it makes the pleasure build. I think about sports, I count backwards, and I’m sliding into the rough pleasure of each thrust of his fingers. It starts to bloom, and I’m shaking, I’m shaking so hard, I don’t know what to do.
“Please,” I pant, “Please. Please, Nikolai. Please, I can’t. I’m trying. I… Can’t!”
“You can.”
He doesn’t stop. Those fingers work me harder, deeper, rougher and I’m crying, moaning, shouting, pleading.
“I fucking hate you. How dare you! I hate…I need this. Oh, Christ I need this. I need you. I crave this. Please.”
He stops. Just stops when I’m almost there. The pleasure crashes all around me, a low wave shy of orgasm.
“Good girl, Rose. My beautiful, fucking Rose. Your cunt is so tight, and it’s mine. Tell me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m trapped, both between him and the tile and between frustration and bliss. “M-My cunt is yours, Nikolai. Only yours.”
He bites and sucks my throat, his hand sliding around and over my ass, then down between the cheeks to stroke my asshole. “I’ll be taking this, too. All your tight holes will be mine. I’ll take your ass, Rose, soon, but not tonight.”
Then he pulls my hand from the wall and pushes something into it: the smaller shower head wand. I don’t use it when I shower since I like the rain-head above, and my fingers slip as I grab it and a hard warm beat of a stream shoots out. I don’t hear his zipper, not with all the water, but oh do I feel his heavy, hard cock as it pokes at me.
“Now Rose, this is what’s going to happen. You’re going to put that right on your clit, and you’re going to brace yourself on the wall. This is going to be a hard, rough ride.”
He starts to move his cock between my thighs, deliberately teasing at my entrance.
“Now, Rose.”
I push it against me and almost scream again. The relentless pressure is like nothing else, and I’m immediately there once more, teetering on the edge.
He thrusts into my pussy, all the way, balls deep, bottoming out in me.
I’m so stretched and full.
“Nikolai…” I moan his name. “Can I come?”
“Fuck no. I’ll tell you when.”
He starts to drill into me, and I’m mashed between him, the little shower head, and the shower wall. I’m being filled and emptied. I’m cold, wet, hot, as a thousand fingers drum my clit. All the colliding sensations make my head whirl.
Each time he slams home, he hits something so deep in me, it’s like a dull pain that is edged with a rolling pleasure. Soon, I’m seeking it because it shifts into something I need. It’s not pain, now, it’s something else, a deep, resounding sonic wave of nerve endings clamoring for more.
The hand not on my hip coils in my hair, holding my head back as his mouth latches on to my throat. He bites and sucks hard. I’m vibrating, starting to shatter, but I’m trying to hold it, to not let it all go.
The pleasure hooks deep with each of his deep and savage thrusts. I cry out when he withdraws, moans when he slams back in, and I start trying to push back. I want him deeper. Harder. Rougher. Someone is spewing words.
It’s me. I want him to ruin me. Destroy me.
“Your cunt, Rose, fuck, your cunt. It’s a vice. It’s milking me. You want to come, don’t you?”
This time, I’m there, deep in my words. “Fuck me, Nikolai. Make it hurt. Give it hard. Harder. Fuck you, harder. Show me. Show me you mean it. Take my pussy. Do it. Fuck. Oh. Fuck.”
“You fucking dirty little Rose. You love my cock. The things I’m going to do to you. Destroy all your holes. You want that, don’t you?”
“Yes…”
“You’re going to fucking ruin me. Fuck. Fuck. Come with me, Rose. Now.”
I let go. A dam bursts, and I convulse on him, his cock twitching and spurting inside me. He shoves me so hard against the wall of the shower, I might split my lip if he didn’t have such a hard hold on my hair.
“My Rose.”
When he shudders once more against me, his cock still so big and hard in me, he pulls me back, under the water, and slowly he withdraws, the wand head clattering to the tile from my weakness.
Nikolai turns me in his arms, taking my face, and kisses me long and slow and deep. He takes his time, nibbling at my lips, sucking at my tongue, dancing with it, soft little licks along my bottom lip, and when he takes my mouth again with a sweet burst of tenderness, I’m lost. I’m glad I’m soaked because I might be crying.
“Can you stand, Rose?”
“I…I don’t know.”
Nikolai turns me again, one white sleeved arm about me, a black trousered leg coming between my thighs. One handed, he puts the soap on the sponge and starts to gently wash me. He takes his time, and I want to resent him, to fight, but I don’t. His touch is like love.
I’m pathetic, I think vaguely, but right now, I don’t care. My well is empty in a different way, a good way, like satiation. Tiny tremors tumble here and there in my blood.
Finally, when I’m clean, he turns off the shower, and, with an arm still around me, he walks me out. Then he grabs one of the large towels and wraps it around me. He picks me up and sits me on the sink, and strips down to just his underwear. I can’t read his expression, and he doesn’t say a word as he dries me, and then, scooping me up, towel and all, he takes me to the bedroom to lay me on the bed.
Slowly, I reach out to him. A droplet of water falls from a thick lock of his wet, dark hair, to his face, but Nikolai catches my hand and brings it to his wet, warm lips and shakes his head.
“Nikolai?” Pain starts to streak through me. Is…is he rejecting me? “Nikolai?”
“I can’t.”
I go completely still. He…he destroys me to my soul, and he can’t? I try to speak, but no words come. All I can do is look at him.
His eyes shutter and go dark.
Then Nikolai releases me and walks out the door, pulling it closed behind him.