Czar
Page 9
The man I thought I loved. I wasn’t in love with him. I was in lust with him.
I still am. I was cruelly reminded of my orgasm when he forced himself on me, how my body reacted to the pain he gave me.
What is wrong with me? How could such a thing be possible?
Desperation knifed through my gut, giving me the strength I needed to find my feet again. I had to escape. Surely there was a way out of my gilded cell. The plush, canopied bed and ornately carved mahogany desk gave the room a sumptuous beauty that belied its true function: it was my prison.
I stared out the window, again taking in the bars outside the glass. Dimitri had obviously prepared for my arrival. Even if I could get out, a brief assessment of the drop to the ground confirmed my earlier guess that we were several stories up from the ground.
The view was as undeniably breathtaking as it was disheartening. Lush gardens spread out to either side of a long driveway that disappeared into a distant forest. Dimitri’s wealth was even more ostentatious than ever, and the isolation of the huge estate dampened my hopes for escape. Even if I somehow managed to get out of the manor, how far was St. Petersburg?
I shook off that particular worry. Putting as much distance between myself and the torture devices in the next room was my top priority. That left the door to the hallway as my only option.
But first, I needed clothes.
A huge, antique wardrobe took up most of the wall opposite the bed. I quickly opened it and searched its contents. Behind the doors, I found only Dimitri’s hanging shirts and slacks. I tried the drawer beneath, and instantly recoiled at what I found. The articles of clothing – if you could even call them that – were obviously meant for me. Scraps of sheer lace were laid out beside a stack of silken corsets.
I slammed the drawer shut, refusing to contemplate its contents.
My only option for modesty was one of Dimitri’s shirts. I selected a black one, worried that my pink nipples might be visible through a lighter color. Once I had closed all the buttons, I was relieved to find that the shirt fell more than halfway down my thighs, covering me more thoroughly than some of my more risqué dresses.
It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, I crossed the room and grasped the doorknob with shaking fingers. To my amazement, it turned. Dimitri hadn’t locked me in. That should have set off warning bells, but I was too elated to brace myself for what I found on the other side of the door.
I pulled it wide open, and immediately jumped back with a little startled squeak.
Roman’s hulking form filled the doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled down at me. His scar appeared more deeply carved into his cheek than ever before, and I hastily backed up a few more steps.
“Did you need something?” He asked coldly.
“N-no,” I stammered.
“If you do, I will be right here.” The warning was clear. He slammed the door shut.
I sat down heavily on the bed and buried my face in my shaking hands. I had been a fool to think Dimitri would leave me unguarded for even a moment.
Fleetingly, I considered exploring the other room for escape routes, but I was too much of a coward to face it. Besides, why would such a place hold any shred of hope? No. I couldn’t go in there.
To my chagrin, I curled up on the bed and cried while I prayed. Falling into an old habit, I reached for my sapphire cross, only to remember that Dimitri had stripped me completely when he took me.
My family will try to find me, I reasoned desperately. They won’t give up until they do.
But how much time would pass before that happened? What would Dimitri do to me?
“You like sexual pain.”
He planned to hurt me, and I feared I would enjoy it. All my physical reactions thus far suggested I wouldn’t be able to help it. I hated myself in that moment, almost as much as I hated him.
I had been so naïve to think I was in love with him. I mistook a physical connection for an emotional one. He had been so attentive, so tender with me. How easily I fell into his trap. I thought of how he had pretended to be fascinated by the most inane details of my life. It had all been a lie.
Hadn’t it?
How he had treated me during breakfast flashed through my mind. He held me with the same reverence as before, and he watched me as though completely captivated by my every expression. Was it possible he truly cared for me in his own twisted way? He certainly seemed fixated on my profession of love.
But that had been before. Maybe if I could convince him I didn’t love him, he would let me go.
Or he’ll lock me in that cage, break me, and then sell me when he grows bored of me.
My survival might depend on keeping him happy. My stomach roiled at the thought of my existence revolving around pleasing him. It was obviously what he wanted from me. My obedience, my devotion. My love.
For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him. What had happened to him to make him so obsessed with the concept of being loved?
His low chuckle cut off that line of thinking, and trepidation instantly doused my concern.
“I think I like you wearing my shirt. You look very sexy.”
I glared at him and propped up on my elbows. “That wasn’t my intention.”
His black eyes danced. “I have other clothes for you, if you prefer.”
“Those aren’t clothes,” I said acidly.
He shrugged. “You will wear them for me.”
I gritted my teeth against a defiant reply. The cage in the next room was still at the forefront of my mind.
He approached the bed and paused at the edge so that he loomed over me. “Have you thought about my proposal?” He asked quietly.
I couldn’t help scoffing. “More like an ultimatum.” Agree to be his slave or face torture.
He sighed. “I see you need more time to consider. I will show you how good it can be between us. You will agree.”
“Fuck you.” It was the first time I had ever said the crude words, but if there was an appropriate time to use them, it was now.
He merely smirked. “No. I will fuck you.”
I barely had time to gasp before he was on me. His hands closed around my waist, and he easily flipped me onto my front. He climbed onto the bed and straddled my lower back, pinning me down. He grasped my right hand and pulled it away from my body. The black leather cuffs were still tied to the bedposts, and I shrieked out my wordless protest when he secured one wrist and then the other. Although he didn’t tether my ankles, I still couldn’t manage to do more than writhe on my belly when his weight left me.
The sound of the nightstand drawer scraping open caught my attention, and I turned my head to see what he was doing. He held a bottle of clear liquid and a strange red object I couldn’t identify.
“What… What is that?” My voice trembled with dread.
He grinned. “Sometimes I forget how innocent you are. This is a plug.” He squirted some of the liquid onto the tapered end of the object, spreading it downward to where it flared widest. A foot-long, thin tube extended from it, ending in a rubber ball. Dimitri squeezed the ball once, and the plug inflated incrementally larger.
His smile remained fixed in place as he stared into my wide, confused eyes.
“I need to prepare you before I can fuck your ass. We will begin your training today.”
My head began to shake. “No.” He couldn’t have sex with me there. It was even dirtier than him using his mouth on me.
His expression softened, and he twisted a valve on the red device. The plug deflated to its original size.
“I will be gentle with you. If you relax, there will be very little pain.”
“I don’t want any pain!”
“Yes, you do.” It was spoken as an absolute truth. “Get on your knees.”
When I hesitated, he huffed out an impatient breath. One arm snaked beneath my hips and lifted me until my knees automatically came up to support me. Not trusting me to stay in position, he kept his hol
d on me.
His other hand lifted the plug. It disappeared from my line of sight as it neared my bottom. The cold tip touched my exposed hole, and I whimpered.
“Relax.” He shifted his arm beneath me so he could rub my clit. His forefinger circled and teased, and my traitorous sex began to swell with arousal. He briefly dipped two fingers inside me, testing the wetness there.
“Very good,” he praised. The foreign object pressed forward, and I cried out when it penetrated me in a slow slide. My muscles burned and strained to push it out, but Dimitri was relentless, and its path was eased by the lubricant that coated it. He pushed it in slowly, all the while rubbing my clit in a practiced, irresistible rhythm.
“Please,” I begged in a strangled whisper. “It hurts.”
“Yes. But it feels good, doesn’t it?” He tweaked my clit and eased the plug out a fraction before pushing back in. Forbidden sensation shot through me, my nerve endings crackling with awareness.
“Don’t lie.” He pinched my clit harder and pumped the cruel object in and out again.
A strangled sound clawed up my chest, and my fingers twisted in the sheets. I buried my face in the pillow. The humiliation that scorched through me at my undeniably lustful reaction only further stoked the heat at my core.
With one final push, the widest part of the plug breached me, and my hole closed around the slender base. Instinctively, I struggled to push it out, but I only earned myself more discomfort.
“It won’t come out without my help. Accept it, and all the pain will fade.”
My body gave up, relaxing around the intrusion. He stroked the length of my spine in silent encouragement. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but they weren’t tears of pain. I cried because, despite my efforts to suppress it, my core was throbbing with desire.
Dimitri wiped the sticky lube from his hands with a disposable wet cloth, but his eyes never left me. He watched, carefully assessing my reactions. His expression was one of soft concern. How could he appear so kind when he was tormenting me?
“Don’t fight me,” he warned as he reached out and unbuckled the cuffs, freeing my wrists. He sat down on the bed, his back against the headboard, and he pulled me into his arms. The movement caused the plug to shift in me, and I let out a small, shocked cry. He laughed softly and kissed my cheek.
He shifted to retrieve a book from the bedside table. It was my treasured copy of Pride and Prejudice, the one he had gifted to me on the night I had decided to go back to his hotel. To be utterly alone with him. I had touched him for the first time that night.
I sold my chastity for a book. If I had only resisted him, would I be here now?
“I want you to read to me,” he murmured as he turned to the first page.
I stared at the Cyrillic script. “I can’t. I don’t know how.” Simple conversational Russian was one thing, but the complex language of Jane Austen was another.
“You will learn,” he informed me. “I will help you.” A small furrow appeared between his brows as he turned his eyes to the text. “It is generally accepted that a rich man should need a wife,” he read, butchering the classic first line.
I was so dumbstruck by the strange turn of events that I almost forgot all about the violation of the plug. Under normal circumstances, I might have laughed at his sweet attempt to teach me his native tongue. As it was, his strong arms kept my nearly-naked body trapped against him, holding me hostage.
He shot me his heart-melting crooked smile, and remembered affection tugged in my chest.
Then he picked up the rubber ball attached to the plug and squeezed.
My breath stuttered at the shock of the foreign object expanding within me, stretching wider and penetrating deeper. A shadow of the earlier burning pain bloomed inside me as my muscles protested. I squirmed in Dimitri’s lap. He shushed me gently and held me closer, stilling my struggles. His growing hardness pressed into my thigh. The knowledge of his arousal awoke conditioned hunger in me, and I shivered, my system wracked by an unsettling combination of discomfort and desire.
My attention was torn from my quandary when the bedroom door burst open. Dimitri stiffened, but he didn’t let me go. He barked out something angry in Russian, and I recognized the word for “father.”
Dread pooled in my stomach as my eyes turned to Dimitri’s dad, who stood frozen in the doorway. His handsome features were twisted with disgust. He snapped something back at his son, but his voice was colder, more controlled.
Dimitri’s arms tightened around me possessively. His father’s full attention shifted to me, and I couldn’t help shrinking back against my captor, seeking his protection. Just like the first time I met him, I got the uncomfortable impression that the older man didn’t really see me. Any glimmer of hope I might have harbored that his annoyance with Dimitri stemmed from his son’s decision to kidnap me vanished in that moment. The utter absence of compassion in his flat black eyes told me that he saw me as less than human.
I suddenly understood that Dimitri’s sick hobby must be an inherited practice. That dungeon might be connected to his bedroom, but it was part of his father’s house.
Dimitri said something else, more calmly this time. His dad scowled, but mercifully he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.
Heavy silence hung between us for a long moment. Then Dimitri blinked and looked down at me. My concerned lover was back.
“Don’t worry, myshka.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and ran his palm up and down my arm, warming my suddenly cool skin. “I won’t let him take you from me. I am older now. He won’t dare do that again.”
“What- What do you mean?” My voice shook. I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand, but deep down I knew it was important.
His eyes turned distant, and his lips turned down. The displeasure wasn’t directed at me.
“He gave me my first woman when I turned fifteen. I became… attached to her. He didn’t approve, so he sold her.”
Revulsion and gratitude mingled in a gut-churning cocktail; revulsion for Dimitri and his father’s sickening practices, and gratitude that he intended to shield me from the same fate as the other woman.
Sold.
I couldn’t allow myself to contemplate it, or I would throw up again.
His gaze focused on me, and he touched his fingertips to my cheek. “I will protect you, Alicia. I won’t let you go.”
For the first time, his promise to keep me forever was accompanied by relief rather than horror.
I had half a second to register the ferocious tightening of his features before he pinned my body beneath his. A rough shout left me when the plug shifted inside me, and my muscles clenched around it.
Dimitri pulled down his zipper and freed himself from his slacks, almost fumbling in his urgency. Without any hesitation or warning, he thrust all the way into my tight heat.
I let out a sharp cry and struggled to push him out. It was too much; I was too full. And he wasn’t wearing a condom.
He groaned at the feel of my muscles rippling around him, but he ignored my body’s resistance. He drew almost all the way out and drove ruthlessly back in. Jarring pain shot through my system, but still he didn’t relent. His handsome features twisted into something resembling a snarl.
“You are mine,” he ground out. “No one will take you from me.”
He found my g-spot, and the burst of pain that accompanied his merciless thrust was tinged with pleasure. The dichotomy overwhelmed me, sweeping me up in physical sensation, obliterating all coherent thoughts. Even the harsh intrusion of the plug became interesting rather than abhorrent, adding another layer of carnal pleasure.
His mouth came down on mine with a savage growl, his teeth sinking into my lower lip before his tongue tamed mine. Dimitri filled me in every way physically possible, and in my lust-drunken state, I allowed him to fill my heart as well. My new hatred for him had made me forsake that love, but it still lingered in my soul, suppressed rather than eradicated.
I love you. I barely managed to keep the words locked in my chest.
Chapter 10
The next morning, I compliantly allowed him to feed me blini again. Sitting in his lap didn’t feel all that terrible. His attentiveness and affection made it difficult for me to be disgusted by the act. Only the lingering soreness in my bottom soured the intimacy we shared. It reminded me of my shameful reactions to his violation of my most secret place.
The he kissed me, tasting the sweetness of the jam on my lips. I forgot my embarrassment, losing myself in him.
When he finally pulled away, he handed me a pill and a glass of water.
I eyed the white tablet warily. “What’s that?”
“I didn’t use protection yesterday. You need to take this.”
Oh. The morning after pill. Doing my best not to think about the possible ramifications of unprotected sex, I tossed the tablet into my mouth and quickly swallowed it down. He rewarded me with another mind-melting kiss.
He set me on my feet, holding onto me for a few seconds until my weakened legs would support me. His triumphant smirk irritated me, and I locked my knees.
“Go bend over the edge of the bed,” he ordered.
“Why?” I challenged, emboldened by his gentle treatment. Surely he wouldn’t hurt me. Not really.
He reached into the top desk drawer. My knees threatened to give way when he retrieved a syringe.
“I’m going to give you a shot so you won’t get pregnant. I want to fuck you without condoms.”
The horrific nature of my situation came crashing back down on me. Dimitri didn’t care about me. He didn’t love me, and he didn’t respect me. He just wanted to use me, to own me. I had been able to delude myself over the last several hours in the wake of his father’s terrifying visit, but that delusion shattered in that moment.