Given to Madness

by Fox, Winter

  “I know exactly what it feels like to have a bullet lodged deep inside my body, and it doesn’t feel l like this. Trust me, it’s just a graze, milaya.”

  He’s been shot before?

  That was a conversation for another day, however. I nodded, and continued applying the alcohol in gentle dabs, trying to clean away the blood so that I could see the truth of his words for myself.

  Once I was satisfied that I had cleaned the wound to the best of my limited ability; I examined the source of the bleeding, and I was relieved to see that he had been right. There wasn’t an entry wound, just a ragged tear in his skin. Testament to the close proximity of the speeding missile.

  He had been lucky.

  I began to wrap a clean white bandage over the damaged area, and I breathed out a low sigh of relief. His fingers suddenly found my chin, gently tilting my head back so that I was looking into his black eyes.

  “I’m trying to concentrate,” I murmured. Trying to wiggle my chin out of his hand.

  “I’m just surprised. I would have thought it would please you if I was killed. I am the enemy, after all.”

  I huffed, snatching my chin back out of his hand, and training my eyes back on my work. “I don’t have to like you, to not want you to die.”

  He snorted. “You’re a better person than me. When it comes to my enemies, all I want is to see every single, fucking one of them dead.”

  I was so focused on finishing the bandage off in a neat knot, that I wasn’t paying attention to the next words which fell out of my mouth. “And what about Mariusz? He is your enemy.”

  His hand shot forward again, only this time he grabbed my chin tightly. Forcing my eyes to meet the two black pools of emptiness at the center of his handsome face.

  “Mariusz is a very different situation, Liselle?” His voice was deep, and menacing.

  My nursing work completed, I let my hands fall into a clasp on my knees. I had no choice but to meet his gaze—unless I closed my eyes, which would somehow be even more terrifying.

  “He said that he put a gun to your head.” I figured I’d already started down this road now—might as well carry on talking my way into hell.

  Letting go of my chin, Ilya shook his head angrily. “I should have known he wouldn’t be able to hold off telling you that. His favorite thing to do has always been to make me look weak.”

  “For as long as you stay here you are weak, Ilya. Don’t you see that.” I was skating on thin ice, and I knew it.

  He growled. “What would you have me do, Liselle? If I strike against Mariusz then my family die. I could just as easily ask you why you’ve stayed around to put up with his shit.”

  I took a deep breath. Trying to calm the constantly roiling fear inside me. “I don’t think I can survive a lifetime of this, Ilya.”

  “Then why did you come here?”

  “You know why. To protect Alessio and Matteo.”

  He shrugged, his broad chest rippling as he moved. “And I am here to protect Dina, and my mother.”

  His voice softened when he spoke of his family, and I smiled weakly at him. “You love them both, so much.”

  “Of course, I do. They’re my blood.”

  I pulled my legs up beneath my ass, so that I was kneeling on the bed facing him. “Then there must be something that you and me can do to help our families. We both want to break free of Mariusz, so why can’t we do it together? Let me help you, Ilya.”

  He narrowed his eyes, frowning darkly at me. “That’s why you’re acting like you give a fuck. Isn’t it?”

  When I only stared at him blankly, he reached forward to grab my shoulders with both of his huge hands. “Isn’t it?” He yelled.

  I shook my head in bewilderment. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Wrestling me back onto the bed, Ilya straddled my body. If his wound pained him, it didn’t show, as he leaned down until his stubble-scattered chin brushed against my soft cheek.

  “Do you think that you can seduce me into helping you escape from Mariusz?”

  What? Urgh, so not my style.

  “No. How the fuck am I trying to seduce you? I asked you to give me my own room tonight,” I hissed.

  “And yet here you are,” he growled, huskily. Pushing himself down against me. I yelped in shock when I felt the hardness of him pressing through his jeans.

  I scowled at him, trying to push him off me, with my hands spread against his solid chest. “I came here to help fix your arm. I feel guilty that you took a bullet for me. I’m not here for anything else from you, Ilya.”

  He buried his face into my neck, and bit down on the soft flesh. I yelped at the sudden, sharp pain, and began to push and kick harder against him. “You’re a horrible, evil bastard do you know that?”

  Bringing his mouth close to my ear, he whispered, “I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that you want me. Does it milaya?”

  Pulling my arm back against the bed, I put every ounce of force behind swinging my hand up to connect with his face. “Get off me,” I yelled.

  His own hand shot forward to grip my wrists, pinning them against the bed. “How many times do you intend to keep pushing me to places I really shouldn’t be taken, princess?”

  “Stop calling me that. I hate it.”

  He grinned down at me, his black eyes filled with ten thousand liters of nothing. “Then quit behaving like a spoiled, little bitch.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, studying the look on his face. He truly thought I patched his arm up because I wanted him to help me and my brothers to escape Mariusz. I knew from experience that a life in the criminal underworld could make you prone to increased paranoia. But I realized in that moment that Ilya wouldn’t trust kindness from anybody.

  I wondered just what had happened in his life to make him so dark, and so broken.

  Slipping one of my wrists out from under his grip, I reached out to lay my hand against the cheek I’d just hit, I tried to get through to the monster inside the man above me. “I bandaged your arm because I didn’t want to see you hurting. No other reason. You’ve been the only one who hasn’t treated me like a piece of ass, since I arrived here.”

  His eyes flickered over mine. “Even when I held you down for Mariusz to rape?”

  My body jolted at the memory of that horrendous night. “If your family are at his mercy then I understand that you didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “How do you know I didn’t enjoy it?” He rasped.

  I shook my head defiantly. Determined to disprove the monster inside him. “I know that you didn’t. I could tell by the look in your eyes.”

  He stared at me with hooded eyes, now. Studying my face for the longest time. “I want to hurt you, milaya. I fucking relish the idea of making you scream while my dick is buried inside you.”

  Something about his words—or the way he spoke them—sang to my own internal demons then, and my hips involuntarily bucked up to press my body against his.

  “Then make me scream, Lieutenant,” I begged.

  21

  Liss

  I hadn’t been prepared for the speed with which he responded to my plea. His mouth fell upon mine, his tongue hunting for a way inside. And I gave it to him, parting my lips to allow him to capture my mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. Releasing my wrists, his hand roughly found my breast, and he pinched the nipple through the thin material of my tank.

  I whimpered in pain, but arched my back again, forcing myself harder against his scorching hot body. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled his mouth harder against mine; wanting to feel him consuming my every breath. He took me apart every single time he touched me, and I was certain that he knew it.

  Pulling back from me, and reaching down to my hips; he caught a hold of my shorts, and tugged both them, and my underwear down in one hard yank. I watched his hungry eyes travel across my naked sex, and I fought against the urge to close my legs. Wanting to hide myself from him.

  “Nyet, milaya,” he rasped
, reading my mind.

  I whimpered and twisted my fingers against the bedding as he leaned above my throbbing sex, and squeezed a drop of saliva to fall from his lips—landing against my clit. Without hesitation the tip of his finger found the wetness from his mouth and he spread it across the scorching bud in tight, pressured circles.

  “Oh, Ilya. Please? Yes,” I cried as I writhed beneath his expert hand.

  His other hand dragged my tank up my chest, exposing my breasts. Then he leaned forward quickly, sucking my left nipple into his mouth, and biting down hard enough to make me wail in despair.

  “That’s it, baby,” he growled around my soft flesh.

  All the time he bit and sucked at my nipple, his finger continued in its relentless assault on my clit. Heat burned low in my belly, and I couldn’t stop myself from bringing a hand up to tangle through his dark hair. Pulling his hot mouth harder against me.

  When I cried out in an all-consuming agony of bliss, he slid his mouth to the soft skin at the side of my breast, and sank his teeth into me—hard. I was devastated to find that the pain only enhanced the orgasm which tore its way through my body like a tornado. Leaving nothing but broken, beautiful desolation in its wake.

  Almost as though he knew how appalled I would be with myself for enjoying his fucked-up attentions—he didn’t pause for a second; before launching his second attack on my body. His finger left the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of my slick folds. Instead he pressed two fingers together, and roughly pushed them past my wet opening, sliding deep inside my body.

  I cried out at the invasion. But despite my body still being new to this type of treatment, Ilya had made sure that I was wet enough to be able to take more pleasure than pain from his fingers. He began to create quick circles inside me, pausing every now and then, to curl his fingers over in a “come here” gesture.

  “Please?” I murmured, huskily. Arching my back in ecstasy.

  “What, baby? What do you want?” His black gaze locked on to my eyes as he spoke. His fingers were ceaseless in their beautiful fucking violation of me.

  I didn’t know what I was asking, my mind had been elevated to another place entirely. All I could feel was the aching throb of my breast, and the varying degrees of pain and pleasure as he fucked me with his fingers. I looked back at him through dazed eyes, hoping that he had a better idea than I did about what I wanted.

  What I needed.

  He suddenly dipped his thumb into the wetness of my opening, making me tense in fear—unsure if I could take any more that I already was. But as quickly as the thumb was there, it was gone. I blinked in confusion, until I felt the first push against the pucker of my ass.

  “No,” I wailed in terror.

  His other hand reached out to slap my cheek—not as hard as Mariusz had. But hard enough to elicit a stunned silence from me.

  “You don’t get to choose, milaya. You gave yourself to me, so I’ll fucking take what I want.”

  Then without hesitation his thumb pushed past the tight ring of muscle, and I gasped aloud at the burning sensation. The fingers inside my pussy stilled, as his thumb performed three quick circles inside my most private area.

  He wrapped his free hand around my throat, and grinned wickedly down at me as he lowered his mouth to mine. Then he nipped my bottom lip between his teeth, and I tasted blood in my mouth. This man loved to hurt—and I suddenly became afraid that I wouldn’t last three days alone in his company.

  As his tongue roughly forced its way inside my mouth, Ilya began to slowly pinch his fingers and thumb together—all while they were still buried within my body. I cried out against his lips, and he growled in approval.

  “That’s right, baby. Give me your pain, and your pleasure.”

  His fingers gripped so tightly that I swear I thought he would breach the thin membrane which separated my two channels, tearing me apart so that his fingers could meet.

  I wasn’t prepared for my second orgasm, and it hit me with such force I felt as though I was going to die. His fingers didn’t stop, even when my pussy contracted around them, pulling him deeper inside me. My body’s way of telling him that I loved this—needed it more than the air which I breathed.

  I whimpered and tried to roll away from him, as the waves of euphoria began to settle—leaving me tender and sensitive.

  “Oh. We are so far from finished, milaya,” he rasped.

  He leaned over me with a predatory snarl on his face, and he looked every inch the killer that I knew he was. The final bright flush of my orgasm faded away, and as I crashed back to Earth, I suddenly felt very afraid.

  Bending my legs at the knees, I started to push myself up the bed in an attempt to escape his obvious intentions. He smirked delightedly, and followed me slowly—padding up the bed on all fours, like a leopard pursuing its injured prey.

  “Please?” I begged.

  He growled, a long and low rumble in the back of his throat. “Oh. Fucking say it again, baby.”

  “Please, don’t hurt me, Ilya?” It was a pointless request. I knew that—so did he.

  He prowled further up the bed, and as I felt my shoulders slam against the polished wooden headboard, I squeaked. There was nowhere left to go. “If you truly felt that way then you wouldn’t be here, milaya.”

  He settled his ass back on his feet, and snapped the belt of his jeans open. Yanking down the zipper, he kicked his jeans off, and licked his lips hungrily as he saw my eyes taking in the beauty of his naked body.

  Reaching forward he hooked his fingers underneath the edge of my tank, teasing it up my body slowly. “Off.”

  I complied with his gruff order, lifting my arms up to allow him to pull the garment over my head. Leaving my body as naked as his. He met my gaze, and smiled with absolute darkness. “So, so beautiful.”

  I flinched in fear when his hands wrapped around my ankles, but instead of pulling me down beneath him, he started to push my legs up toward my body. Not quite sure of his intentions, I resisted momentarily, and I was rewarded by a growl of displeasure. I met his eyes, and he shook his head slowly back and forth. It was a warning.

  One I took very seriously.

  Relaxing myself, I allowed him to push my legs up until my thighs were pressed at either side of my breasts, and only the tips of my toes could brush against the bed. My back was still pushed against the hard wood, so I was sitting up straight—meaning that every part of my sex was splayed open to him.

  “Stay,” he murmured, as though I were a pet.

  As he let go of my ankles, I remained in the undignified position; breathing heavily in fear. Sitting back from me, he settled his gaze on my eyes. Smirking at whatever he saw there, he allowed his gaze to travel down my body, across my breasts, and finally to my glistening pussy—open for him like a flower to the sun.

  Licking his lips, Ilya reached forward and pushed two fingers inside me. I gasped in pleasure, as he circled them inside. I was so wet that I knew his fingers would be dripping when he took them out. I pressed my head back against the hard wood of the headboard, and groaned in a blend of misery, and elation.

  When I felt his hand leaving my body I was torn between relief, and sorrow. But when he used his fingers to spread my folds even further apart, I blushed in horrified shame. My hands flew to his, trying to stop him from exposing me beyond limit.

  His other hand shot to my throat, and he applied just enough pressure to cause me discomfort. “Put your fucking hands by your sides.”

  I whimpered, but did as I was instructed. Placing my sweating palms against the soft bedding. When he opened me up even further, and stared hungrily between my thighs I closed my eyes, trying to block out the shame. Wishing that he would fuck me, and wishing that it would all be over at the same time.

  I regretted shutting him out when I felt his soaking wet fingers slide down my sex, to settle against my tight ass muscles—and my eyes flew open once more.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered, fearfully.

>   “Sshh, milaya. I’m trying to make sure it hurts as little as possible.”

  His wet fingers slipped inside me easily, and I groaned in pain, shame and delight as he slid them in and out—over and over again. Coating my channel with the glistening wetness he’d stolen from my pussy. His thumb suddenly found my clit, and I smacked my head back against the headboard, as he applied pressure to my already sensitive bud.

  “Ilya,” I whispered his name out loud.

  “Yes, baby?” His voice was warm and husky.

  “I want you,” I confessed, my hazy eyes burning into his.

  He grinned wolfishly. Sliding his fingers out of my ass, he leaned forward to place a soft kiss against my lips. I opened my mouth to him, allowing his tongue to roam freely—invading my body, and claiming it for his own.

  I tentatively lifted my hands to place them on each of his tautly muscled shoulders, and he deepened the kiss. Then I suddenly felt the hard tip of his cock press against my wet ass, and I cried out against his mouth; trying to wriggle away from him.

  His hand tightened minutely around my throat, and he growled a warning. “Keep still. As long as you let me control it, it won’t hurt…much.”

  As the tip of him broke its way through the solid ring of muscle, I panted heavily against his mouth, and my fingernails tore into the inked skin of his shoulders.

  If it bothered him, he didn’t show it.

  22

  Ilya

  She was the most exquisite woman he’d ever fucked in his life. She was so responsive to his touch in all of the right ways. The jaded bitches from the clubs suffered the pain, because they knew that it made him happy—none of them truly derived pleasure from the things that he did with them.

  But not this smart, sassy girl who was currently being impaled in the ass by his cock—she wanted it because it felt good. She fucking liked it, even if she hadn’t truly realized it yet. The way her body reacted to him made him want to come, right then and there. Staying in control with Liselle was almost impossible.