by Nikki Sloane
Not Luka. The age gap for once felt like a real gap. As if his world was vastly different from mine.
“First benchmark,” Luka said, his expression guarded. “I know you won’t like it, but understand it’s a means to an end. We build trust and then this whole thing can work.”
“What are you—” My throat closed up as he bent over and retrieved something from the other side of the loveseat. The thick, multicolored cord was in a large loop, waiting to be unfurled.
“There are two ways this can go,” he said, unraveling the rope. “They both end with you tied to the bed. One is easy. You lie down and let me do this. The other is unpleasant.”
The dark cast to his face told me he wasn’t joking in the slightest. My gaze went to the wooden headboard. There were cutouts by the posts where it would be easy for him to tether me down, and I tensed. The thought activated my flight-or-fight response, and I glanced to the door. I’d never get past him.
So I turned, sought his black eyes, and silently begged him not to, but it was a lost cause. Luka wasn’t going to be persuaded.
“You can do this,” he urged. “You’re so fucking perfect, I know you can.”
He wasn’t condescending, but sincere. His misplaced compliment knocked me sideways.
“It’ll only be for a little while,” he added.
I was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and my fatigue made me weak. Inside I issued a sob of self-pity and loathing, but on the outside I stayed numb. Oh, holy hell, I was actually considering it.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I need to leave this room to get you new clothes.”
He waited. If I obeyed, he promised there’d be no consequences. I moved hesitantly to lie down on the bed, resting my towel-dried hair on the pillow.
Luka blinked, visibly surprised by what he was seeing. He’d expected a fight, but I felt broken. I gave up a little. And although I was going to allow it, my muscles solidified as he came cautiously closer. We each watched the other with unease.
Could he feel my trembling as I surrendered my first wrist to him? I pressed my lips together and forced back the tears that threatened in my eyes. His face went serious with concentration as he corded the rope around my wrist and tied the first knot.
“Is it too tight?” he asked.
I hurried to wipe a disobedient tear away with my free hand and struggled to keep it together. “It’s fine.”
He hesitated for a sliver of a second, but then the moment was gone. The rope was threaded through the cutout by the post, and secured. A giant, invisible weight sat on my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Again, Luka waited. He could take my free wrist easily now since my other was bound, but it was obvious he thought it was my responsibility to offer it. I did, feeling even more broken inside. I was ashamed to submit to him.
The thick cord wasn’t rough, and he didn’t tie it too tightly, but being restrained was terrifying, and I stared up at him. He looked . . . fascinated. His gaze swept down along my body. As it slowly drifted back up again, his eyes were heated and he shifted on his feet. Was that excitement hiding in his expression?
“Are you scared?” he asked.
It was immediate from me. “Yes.”
“Don’t be. Nothing bad is going to happen to you like this.”
The naïve girl in me wanted to believe him, but I told myself I knew better. He’d turn on me any second and make me regret this foolish decision. I picked a point on the ceiling and focused on it, rather than him, so I could think about the situation. The goal was to build trust, he’d said. I would fake it enough until Luka allowed me to leave, or gave me an opportunity to escape.
He’d told me he was going to get me new clothes, but he hovered at the side of the bed. “Christ, you’re something to look at, tied to a bed, wearing nothing but my shirt to cover your gorgeous body.” His appreciative tone was deep and rich. “We’re going to reach a point where you want this.”
My eyes widened and I turned to him. Was he crazy? “Being tied up? Doubtful.”
I couldn’t get away when he leaned over and cased my head in his hands, holding me still. There was a bizarre electric charge in the air. Him in complete control, me at his mercy.
“I’m going to show you all sorts of things, like how much pleasure this body is capable of. But only,” he dropped his lips to mine in a seductive kiss, “when you submit.”
There was a soft, unspoken threat laced beneath his words. Would he show me how much pain I could take if I fought instead?
Luka stood up and stepped back from the bed, as if needing distance. “I’ll be back in a little while.” His mouth teased a half-smile. “Don’t go running off like last time.”
I swung my head away from him and stared at the wall until I heard the door close behind him.
I blew out an enormous breath, able to breathe now that he’d gone. The rope rubbed against my wrists. I struggled, checking to see if it would give, and when it didn’t . . . I did. I allowed myself to break apart and weep for a minute, before refocusing. There was no way I was going to cast aside my dream of becoming a surgeon. I’d overcome tough obstacles before. Hell, I flourished in the face of a challenge.
You can do this. I wiped my face against my arm and dried my tears.
It was Saturday afternoon, which meant I still had another day to figure this out before my Monday morning class. If I couldn’t get away from him before then, what would happen? Would Avery tell someone I’d gone missing when I didn’t come home tonight? Could I count on her to care, and not be thrilled her socially awkward roommate disappeared?
My professors would notice my absence eventually, but how long would it be before one of them followed up? I didn’t check in much with my parents, either. They knew I was busy, and they were as well, so it was normal to go a week without talking. Emotion forced new tears, but this time it was disappointment in myself. I’d spent so much of my life being proud I was a self-sufficient island. Now I was filled with regret.
No one would miss me.
Chapter
Nine
Luka was gone a long time, much longer than I’d thought he’d be, and it put me in the awful position of hoping he’d come back. I was uncomfortable, thirsty, and I had an eyelash in my eye.
So I used the time to think about what homework I would start first when I got back to my dorm room, and I ran through the checklist of the other odds and ends I wanted to take care of before Thanksgiving break. I didn’t want to think about what had happened in the last eighteen hours or my current situation. I had a secondary application for Michigan University’s medical school I still needed to finish, and an essay to polish for my dream school, Johns Hopkins. I’d already been accepted into Duke, but it was my second choice.
Sounds of activity far off traveled down the hallway to me. Thumps, and heavy footsteps, and male voices. My pulse quickened. Did I scream for help, or would it incur Luka’s wrath? Before I could make a decision, the noises ceased.
A little later, the door opened without a knock and Luka returned, carrying a black overnight bag and a bottle of water. He shut the door behind him, dropped the bag beside the loveseat, and set his gaze on me.
I was thankful I’d stayed relatively calm, which kept the dress shirt covering my breasts.
“That took longer than I thought it would,” he said. “Your roommate’s annoying and dumber than a box of rocks.”
My stomach did a flip-flop. “What? You talked to Avery?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” He set down the bottle, unzipped the bag, and pulled out clothes. What—? He held up the tan A-line dress trimmed with black that I’d worn for my video interview with Duke’s admissions department.
“How did you . . .?”
“Brent, one of Vasilije’s frat brothers, is dating your roommate.” Luka laid the dress out on the chair, retrieved the water bottle, and sauntered toward me. “She was helpful getting things from your room, but she doesn’t
know anything about your schedule.” He sat beside me on the bed. “Because, as I mentioned, she’s dumber than a box of fucking rocks. Why the hell are you friends with her?”
So many questions stormed into my mind, it was difficult to find an answer. “I’m not, really. You went through my things?”
He placed the pads of his fingertips on my collarbone and began to skate them down my bare skin where the shirt wasn’t closed. “Yes. I had them brought here.”
The goosebumps he gave me could have been from his words and not just his touch. What was he talking about? “What things?”
His expression was casual. “All of them. I had your dorm room packed up and moved the boxes into another guest room.”
“What?” The invasion of privacy was overwhelming.
Luka blinked slowly and his expression was guarded. “I told you, this is your home now. When you’ve earned it, you can have your things back.”
My mouth hung open, and as my fury built into a crescendo, his gaze hardened.
“Or you can throw a fit about it and I’ll take my shirt back.”
I closed my eyes and forced myself to take in a calming breath. I was smarter than this. I wouldn’t succumb to an emotional reaction, not if I wanted to outplay him. When my eyes fluttered open, I found him scrutinizing me.
“Will you please,” I said, each word deliberate, “untie me now?”
He paused. “Only if you let me tie you up again right after.”
“After?” Dread coated my voice.
He waved a hand toward the bathroom. “I assume you need to use the restroom.”
Luka was right, I did, but . . . “I thought you said I only needed to be tied up so you could get me clothes, which you did.” He’d gotten all of my clothes.
“Do you want to use the bathroom or not?”
I exhaled loudly. “I do.”
“Okay.” He grabbed my wrist and began to undo the knots. “You’ll come right back to the bed when you’re done, and drink this.”
He made me leave the door open as well, which was infuriating. After I finished, I rolled my aching shoulders and returned to him with trepidation. Our time apart had recharged Luka, and he appeared ready to go after me again at full force.
It would be so much harder the second time to lie down on the bed, and as I lingered in the doorway, I considered not doing it. He must have sensed it.
“Come here,” he commanded.
I sat cautiously beside him on the side of the bed, leaving distance between us. He unscrewed the bottle, passed it to me, and I gulped it down until it was gone, taking my time. Stalling, really, but I couldn’t put it off forever. I held the dress shirt closed as I willed my body to lie down on the bed, fidgeting to maximize coverage. Luka took one of my wrists in his hands, and rubbed the rope marks with his thumbs, mesmerized. A darkness flickered in his eyes.
He enjoyed seeing these marks of his control on my skin.
I shuddered.
He spoke as he wound the rope once again around my wrists, binding me to the bed. “Your roommate’s an idiot, but she knows things about you I don’t.”
Normally, that would make sense. I lived with her, after all. But instead I wondered how it could be possible. Avery paid no attention to anyone but herself.
His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “You’re going to Duke after you graduate?”
I opened my mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. Had Avery told him that? The realization came quickly. No, Avery probably hadn’t. If he’d packed up my dorm room as he said, he’d found my acceptance package in the top drawer of my desk.
“I . . . haven’t decided yet.” Duke was expensive. Hell, all of the schools were. I’d be up to my eyeballs in student loans until I was forty.
“Why not?” His tone was almost angry. “That’s a great school.”
“I have others I’m waiting to hear from.” I tried to organize my thoughts. Why were we talking about this? The restraint on me made me feel off-balance and knocked my filter askew. “I don’t know if I can afford it.”
“Your parents?”
A different level of discomfort grew, one which had nothing to do with the situation. “They don’t have a way to help.”
What I really meant was we were struggling. My parents owned three hundred acres of farmland. Some seasons we came out ahead, but most years we merely survived, and it seemed like it had been year after year of bad luck recently.
“Not everyone lives in mansions on golf courses,” I added under my breath.
His expression could almost pass for amusement. “You do . . . now.”
“I don’t live here, Luka.” For effect, I jolted against the knots and the rope went taut. I was captive, surely he knew I would bolt the first opportunity I got.
“This is where you belong,” he said. “I own you.”
His fingertips crept beneath the collar of my shirt, nudging it over, threatening to expose my naked breast. The muscles low in my belly clenched, and I shifted subtly away, but I could only go so far. He could do whatever he wanted.
“You’re going to tell me your schedule now,” he said.
As I lay beneath him, anger swelled. “No. I held up my end of the deal, and you didn’t.” I glared into his deep black eyes. “You said you’d only tie me up for a little while.”
His gaze followed his fingertips. They skimmed at the line of buttonholes on the shirt, down between the valley of my breasts, and over my quivering belly.
“Yeah, well . . .” His fingers stopped at the top of my panties. “I have something I want to use first, but it’s taking longer to charge than I expected.”
The way his voice was tinged with excitement made my heart thud and my pulse race.
“What are you talking about?” Again, I tried to scoot away from his fingers, but they continued to skim over me. They drew a line down my thigh, tracing patterns.
“I had my assistant pick something up for me this morning while you were sleeping. It’s been charging for the last five hours.” His hand froze. “Should I get it?”
I was fairly certain the answer was no, but he didn’t wait for a response. Luka got up, exited the room, and shut the door behind him. In the quiet, my nerves swelled like an ocean during a storm. I imagined the worst possible scenarios. I fully expected him to return with a torture device. And . . . he had an assistant?
The door swung open abruptly, and he returned, carrying something small enough to fit in one hand. His expression was an enigma as he came closer. Was this interest? Desire? Lust? His eyes were magnetic.
He revealed it to me as he sat, and the bed shifted under his weight. It was black, U-shaped, and one side was larger than the other. I stared at it critically. The thing looked like it was made out of some kind of rubber, and I hadn’t the faintest clue what it was.
I gasped when he set it down on the bed and put his hand right on top of my underwear without warning. I jolted against the straps to no avail. I couldn’t stop him. My words wouldn’t dissuade him. His thick fingers probed and circled, rubbing me on my clit, even as I pressed my knees together and tried to get him to stop.
Luka’s voice was dark and sinful. “I want you to get off while we’re fucking, but I know that’s not going to happen just yet. So we can train for it.”
“Don’t,” I whispered, filled with unease. My hips moved to get away, but I worried all I was doing was making it easier for him, and then an even scarier thought took root. What if I was doing it on purpose? His touch felt weird. Almost, sort of . . . good.
I was sick. He’d raped me. How could I be responding to him, even a little? Shame stormed through me.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Addison,” he said. He dragged air in through parted lips as he watched me squirm. “So sexy, and all for me.”
His hand moved faster, grinding the cotton of my panties to my flesh, teasing. I struggled against my bindings, but even that added to my enjoyment of the experience in a twisted way. I co
uldn’t get free. And since I was his captive, the vilest part of myself whispered I might as well get something from it. Take pleasure from him the way he took it from me.
I clamped my teeth together, but it didn’t silence my breathless moan. It slipped out quietly, but Luka definitely heard it. It kicked him into a new gear, and his fingers dove beneath my panties to touch me where I was hot and aching.
“Oh,” I groaned. My eyes slammed shut and I turned my head away from him, trying to shut him out. It was the most bizarre thing ever. I’d spent countless nights envisioning him touching me like this when it was my own hand, and now that it was him actually doing it, I thought I should picture someone else.
I grew damp as my body rocked appallingly against his hand. The disgusting voice in my head wanted to beg him to put his fingers inside me, so I pressed my lips together to stay silent. I forced all thought from my mind, since any pleasure brought guilt, and I was feeling a lot of both of those.
“Open those perfect blue eyes and look at me,” he ordered.
I blinked open and stared up at him, wishing for him to stop and wordlessly pleading with him to continue. Heat moved in waves from his touch. The pads of his fingers fumbled over my slippery skin, but never dipped inside as I was beginning to crave them to.
“I want to watch you come.” Luka gripped the waistband of my panties and slowly worked it down until I was exposed.
I issued a nervous whine. Some of it was fear, and some of it was an emotion too scary to put a label to. He picked up the small, weird U-shaped object, stretched it open wide, and then eased the smaller end of it inside me.
I moaned with confusion. Pleasure and discomfort simultaneously, but then pleasure won out. The larger end fit tight up against my clit. Luka gave me half a smile, which I was beginning to recognize was his pleased look. My underwear was tugged back up in place, so I was effectively wearing the toy he’d halfway placed in my body.
It was surprising when he moved to the loveseat and sat down, digging his phone out of his back pocket. What was he doing? Hadn’t he said he wanted to make me come? The distance between us felt enormous and weird, which made no fucking sense. Shouldn’t I be relieved he was on the other side of the room, more interested in his phone than he was in—