by Julia Sykes
I touched the razor to my sex and shaved away the stubble.
* * * * *
A few hours later, Dimitri climbed into bed behind me and shaped his naked body around mine. I didn’t move or respond in any way to his presence. I would obey his orders. I would endure. That didn’t mean I had to love him, even though I knew that was what he truly desired.
He couldn’t force me to love him, no matter what he did to me.
“Talk to me,” he said in a low voice.
I hesitated, but it was a command. “About what?” I asked with a little spark of rebelliousness. If he wanted to control me, then he would have to control everything. He seemed to want me to respond to him as I used to before he took me, but I wouldn’t pretend to be the girl I had been. He had changed me irrevocably. I would subject him to the tedium of dictating my every move, my every word.
But not my thoughts. My mind is still my own.
“Don’t be difficult, Alicia,” he chided. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Are you serious? I wanted to scream in his handsome face. You abducted me!
“How can you do this to me?” I asked instead, sounding more defeated than challenging.
“I want you,” he said, as though that simple, selfish explanation was sufficient to justify all the wrong he had done.
A beat of silence passed. “You were right,” he confessed quietly. “My father taught me this. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it. I want to be this way, Alicia. It is my nature. I’m sorry you’re unhappy, but I will not apologize for taking you.”
“What about beating me?” I asked bitterly. “Will you apologize for that?”
“No. I will not say I’m sorry for giving you what you need. I enjoy taking care of you. You are not like the others. I want things to be different with you.”
“Because you think I love you.”
He frowned. “You do love me. You are confused right now, and I understand. I am willing to wait for you to say it again.”
I didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across his eyes. He needed me to love him. He couldn’t face the idea that I no longer did.
“If you want me to love you, then why do you treat me like this? We could have been together in a normal relationship. I wanted to be with you forever.”
“And now you will be,” he promised. “I need you with me, not five thousand miles away in America.”
“I would have moved to be with you, after I finished school. I wouldn’t have slept with you if I wasn’t willing to do that. I thought… I thought we would get married one day.” My heart twisted at the memory of how I had once felt about him.
“What we will have is more than marriage. You belong to me. You always will. I will not give you to another man. I am not like my father.”
Something terrible occurred to me. “What happened to your mother?” I asked in a tentative whisper.
His face went carefully blank. “I don’t know. I never knew her. My father wanted a son. He got me, and then he got rid of her.”
“That’s terrible,” I said with horror.
He gave a casual shrug, pretending it didn’t bother him in the slightest. I saw through his feigned nonchalance.
“I understand why you hate him.”
He blinked. “Who? My father? I don’t hate him.”
“How can you not, after he did that? And I know how angry he makes you.” I realized I needed him to hate his father. Anything less than hatred towards a man who could do such things was inhumanly cold.
“He makes me angry because he thinks he can treat me like a child. I am a man now. I defer to his position as Pakhan, but I will take his place one day. He should treat me with more respect. He can tell me what to do in our business, but my personal life is none of his concern.”
I was beginning to understand Dimitri a bit better. His father was not a loving man. He raised an heir, not a son. And he deprived Dimitri of a mother’s love.
No wonder Dimitri was so obsessed with my feelings for him. I suspected I was the only person who had ever loved him.
Even though that love was gone, my hatred for him was softened by sympathy.
He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Don’t be upset, myshka. I will not let him harm you.” He sealed the promise with a possessive kiss.
My breath faltered, and I squeezed my eyes shut in an effort to deny the fact that I was back in his dungeon, my body strung up for his torment. Dimitri had allowed three days to pass so the bruises from my flogging could heal. Now, he decided to test me.
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” I protested weakly. “Please let me down.”
His fingers trailed a reverent path down the curve of my waist. “This isn’t a punishment. We are going to find your pain threshold. We will start slowly and work our way up. I want to see how much you can take, so I will know what you can handle in the future.” He leaned in to whisper in my ear, his warm breath teasing across my sensitive skin. “Trust me. Use your safe words honestly. We will get through this together.”
He said it as though this was some kind of demented partnership. Desperation clawed at my insides.
“You don’t have to do this, Dimitri. I know your father taught you this, but you aren’t like him.”
He gave me a cruel half-smile. “I am like him. It is you who is special. You are the exception. This is why I have given you safe words. You should be grateful,” he added, his tone sharpening.
“How can I be grateful when you stole my life away from me? When you beat me and lock me in a cage? Don’t you see how insane that is?” I couldn’t help railing at him. Fear overrode my common sense, and I twisted against the chains that held me captive.
His face turned to stone. “What’s crazy is that I’m showing you any mercy at all. This goes against my nature, Alicia. I am warning you not to push me, or this will not go well for you. Don’t make me change my mind about indulging in a BDSM relationship with you. I will only tolerate so much.”
I pressed my lips together to hold in any further vitriol. I didn’t dare push him. Not when I was tied up and naked and he held my fate in his hands.
Broken. Sold. He might still do that to me if I continued to defy him.
I shuddered and looked away from his flinty eyes in a show of submission. He resumed stroking me.
“You have such pretty skin. I want to see my marks on it.”
I refused to cry. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Begging had earned me nothing. Why would my tears be any different? They had never swayed him before. If anything, he seemed to enjoy them. Or at least, he enjoyed the illusion of comforting me when he was the one who inflicted my grief.
With my eyes downcast, I wasn’t prepared when the first heavy blow landed across my ass. My body arched forward in shock, and I struggled to maintain my balance on my tiptoes. Another thudding hit landed, and I recognized the soft falls of the deerskin flogger.
I can handle this. I had even liked it last time. But I tried not to think about that shameful reaction.
He fell into a steady, firm rhythm. I drew in a deep breath and let it out on a long exhale. The slight sting and deeper pain that settled below the surface of my skin awoke the dreaded heat in my sex. Just as before, the dual sensations took possession of all my senses, until all I could focus on was the regular whoosh of the flogger cutting through the air and the answering thud when it hit its mark. My breathing fell in tandem with the blows, my chest rising and falling in an even, hypnotic pattern.
The blows stopped, and he reached between my legs. He growled in satisfaction at the wetness he found there.
“Tell me where you are,” he ordered, his deep voice threading through my addled mind. “Use your safe words.”
“Green,” I mumbled. The truth slipped out automatically. I knew better than to lie to him. That particular lesson was deeply ingrained on my psyche.
He kissed the hollow beneath my ear, and I shivered. Cool air closed behind me when he pulled a
way, and a pang of loss shot through my chest. I wanted him to keep touching my body.
But he wasn’t done with me.
A new sensation assailed me, sharper and more intricate. I could feel the thinner, more numerous falls of the flogger rake across my enflamed skin. These weren’t soft like the ones I was accustomed to, and I shrieked at the shock of the first hit. A heavy burn raced across my flesh before penetrating deeper. The tips of the falls kissed my sensitive upper thigh. For a moment, I didn’t register pain. Then it shot through me, leaving my chest on a scream.
“Please!” I cried out. “Stop. I can’t…” Tears choked off my pleas.
Dimitri’s heat engulfed me again. “Do you want to use a safe word?” He asked gently, his fingers teasing at my swollen folds.
“Yellow. I want the other flogger. This one hurts.”
“You want the pain of the softer flogger?” He forced me to admit it.
“Yes.” I craved the dark pleasure of the lighter whip.
He teased around my clit in a slow, maddening circle, and I gasped as pleasure assailed me. The throbbing heat that infused my abused flesh awoke a twin pulsing in my sensitive bud.
“I am very happy with your honesty, myshka. I will give you an orgasm if you agree to continue. Do you want that?”
He tweaked my clit, tempting me with bliss. I hesitated, needing the release he offered. Was my need greater than my fear of the pain?
Two fingers eased inside me, gently pressing against my g-spot. I squirmed, seeking more stimulation, but all I succeeded in doing was nearly falling. I was tied too tightly to move into his touch. He had complete control of my body. And yet he was giving me a choice.
Trust. Trust him. I knew he would keep his word if I agreed to his terms.
“Yes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Green.”
“Very good,” he rumbled against my neck before stepping away from me again.
This time, I was prepared for the harsher sting. That preparation wasn’t enough to keep the strangled shout from clawing up my throat at the first renewed hit.
“Breathe, myshka,” he instructed calmly. “You can take it.”
I did as he commanded, gulping in air. It was difficult at first, but after a while, acceptance settled over me. I again found the high I had experienced under the assault of the deerskin flogger. Only, this was more than that. I floated, each hit sending my flying higher. All my worries fell away along with the rest of the world.
Then a long, thin line of fire licked across my shoulder, and my blissful state shattered on a scream. Another landed, and I choked on a sob.
There wasn’t a third blow. Dimitri was back at my side, murmuring soothing words and trailing kisses down my neck, nipping at my shoulder.
“Red,” I forced out through heaving breaths. “No more. Please.”
“It’s over,” he assured me gently. “I am very proud of you. We will not use the bullwhip again. Not until we’ve built up your pain tolerance.”
“I don’t want it,” I babbled mindlessly. I never wanted to feel that fiery pain again.
“You will one day,” he told me, his soothing tone softening the horror of his declaration.
His hard cock suddenly pressed against my bruised ass. “I promised you an orgasm.”
He slid into my sex easily. Despite the pain – or perhaps because of it – I was ready for him. Pleasure lit up my system when he thrust all the way in. My knees would have buckled when he pinched my clit if he hadn’t wrapped a supporting arm around my waist. Each time he drove into me, his hips slammed into my abused flesh, and the reminder of the pain he had given me brought on my euphoria once again. This time, it was heightened by pleasure.
I moaned, and my head dropped back against his shoulder. He bit down on my neck on a harsh thrust, and the possessive act made me come apart. We were connected by something more powerful than simple lust. The exchange of pain and ecstasy and the trust we shared enhanced my orgasm. The world went white as bliss overtook me, and I shuddered in his arms.
He came seconds later, and the feel of him pulsing within me wrung the last excruciating drops of pleasure from my body. I wept tears of transcendent joy.
Chapter 13
Later
“I have a gift for you.”
I looked up at Dimitri over the top of Pride and Prejudice. After weeks of him helping me translate, I was getting pretty good at reading Russian on my own. Really, I didn’t have another choice. The huge bookshelf that took up most of one bedroom wall was my only source of entertainment while he was gone. And that was more often than not lately. He was evidently working hard to please his father, and that meant leaving me alone for hours at a time.
“You didn’t come back last night.” My voice was slightly accusatory.
Exhaustion lined his eyes, but his smile lit up his features. “Did you miss me?”
I bit the inside of my cheek and said nothing. I hadn’t missed him. I hadn’t. I was just bored and lonely.
“What did you bring me?” I asked to divert him.
He cocked his head at me. “You are very greedy, myshka.”
Fear tightened my stomach. Had I angered him?
“I’m sorry.” The apology was reflexive. “I didn’t mean-”
He touched two fingers beneath my chin, cutting me off. “I like when you get excited. You have been very good lately. I want to make you as happy as you make me.”
I blinked up at him in silent shock. Even after – How long had it been? Weeks? A month? I had resisted him for so long, and even since my capitulation to his twisted demands, I refused to show him any true affection. And yet, he still desired my happiness.
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small black jewelry box. When I didn’t move to take it, he pressed it into my palm.
“Open it.” The command was softened by an anticipatory smile.
Somewhat dazed, I flipped open the velvet-lined lid. My breath caught in my throat.
My delicate white gold and sapphire cross pendant winked up at me as it caught the morning light. Myriad emotions swirled within me. Foremost was grief. The necklace was a reminder of what I had lost: my family and my strength of conviction. Secondly came relief for the return of something so precious to me. Finally, I arrived at gratitude.
The jewelry was symbolic of who I had been before Dimitri took me. It had belonged to the woman who loved him. I recognized his manipulation even as wonder budded within me.
He did want me to be happy. He didn’t desire a frightened, broken slave. He wanted me. Hadn’t he told me that countless times?
He wants me to love him. I remembered what he had confided in me about his mother, what he had told me about no other woman ever freely giving her love.
I looked up into his anxious eyes and realized the extent of his emotional damage. What would it be like to go through life without love? I came from a loving background, with parents who doted on me and friends who cared about me. Dimitri only had men who served him and a father who had shaped him into a monster.
I thought of all he did for me – how he fed me and read to me and held me. How he gave me what I secretly desired sexually. Everything he did for me was about seeing to my pleasure. Even if his methods were wrong, he was caring for me in the only way he knew how.
I had thought him incapable of love, but perhaps this twisted form of affection was the closest approximation he could manage.
Or maybe I was just going crazy and seeing what I wanted to see.
“Do you like it?” He asked with barely-concealed apprehension. “I can get you another one. Something nicer. Diamonds. Anything you want.”
“It’s perfect,” I heard myself reassure him. “Thank you.”
He beamed at me, relief softening his eyes. He took the box from me and removed the necklace.
“Hold up your hair,” he ordered gently.
I complied, and he reached around my neck to clasp the delicate chain at my nape. The pendant
barely weighed anything, but it seemed heavy enough to sink through my skin and touch my heart. A piece of my soul clicked back into place.
He cupped my cheeks in both hands and brushed the joyful tears from my face with his thumbs.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathed across my parted lips. “Just like that day at St. Isaac’s. I knew I had to kiss you then. I needed you to kiss me.”
I caught his deeper meaning. He hadn’t simply wanted to take from me; he had wanted me to give to him. And the awe in his wide gaze told me he still didn’t quite understand that.
Dimitri had once told me that he knew me better than I knew myself, but the opposite was also true. I could see into the lighter corners of his black soul that he couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge. He would see the goodness as weakness. I wouldn’t spoil the moment by shattering his illusions. My own silent understanding was enough for me.
For the first time since he had taken me, I kissed him in earnest. It wasn’t one of his kisses of forced seduction or desperate need to rekindle my affection. It was my own gift to him, an intimate show of support. It wasn’t love, but the constant burn of hatred was finally quenched.
His low, sensuous groan teased between my lips, and I opened for him. He penetrated my mouth with small forays of his tongue, tasting rather than taking. I reached for his belt and blindly fumbled at the buckle. He clasped my fingers and helped guide my movements, easing his zipper down and tucking my hand inside his slacks so I could stroke his hardening cock. It was just like the first time. I touched him tentatively, unsure of what I was supposed to do. He always controlled our sexual interactions, and I found that I was still shy when it came to taking the initiative, even after all the depraved things he had done to me.
He formed my fingers in a fist around him and pumped up and down slowly. A sense of feminine satisfaction flooded me when he moaned into my mouth. He might dominate my body, but it seemed I held my own sort of power over him. His lips left mine, and he buried his face in my hair, inhaling me as I caressed him. He nuzzled my neck, and then his teeth found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. He bit down hard, and I cried out at the flare of pain. Reflexively, my hand tightened around him, and he growled against my skin.