by Ellie Jean
“That motherfuckin’ fuckin’ bastard…” The phone smashes the glass award I received from a beneficiary the other month and lands on the carpeted floor with a thud. Replicating exactly how my heart just fractured and splintered.
Her gorgeous pale hand should have my diamond on her finger, not that of some other fucker’s. The image Liam sent through of Isla’s hand grasping her handbag as she steps out of the Russian’s Jaguar catches me off guard. Sokolov is not playing around, he’s going full pelt ahead like a hundred-meter finalist in the Olympics. He can see himself crossing the finish line effectively, swiftly and trampling down anyone who gets in his way.
Except what he doesn’t realize is that he won’t be getting anywhere near that finish line. His expiration date is about to run out.
Rigid and hardened, I walk to the other side of the office and pick up my phone, preparing myself this time for what is to come into my vision. Her fingers are all that I see on the screen. A blown-up image of her hand displaying the rock on her fourth finger. Sweat is beading in my palm and on the back of my neck, a strong wild fire is creeping up inside of me. Sweeping the image to the side, the next photo reveals her moving inside a large door carrying her handbag only, her head down and shoulders slumped. Black tendrils of hair fall down the side of her face from her messy hair-do, caressing her cheek. If only that was my hand brushing against her skin. Breathing slower, I sweep the screen again to my screen saver. The image of her wrapped in my bed, not so many days ago, that she sent to me. My eyes have traced every curve, dimple, and outline on this photo and I still can’t get enough of it.
I need her with me!
“Fuck…”
Where ever I cast my eyes, there is vast spacious areas of blonde wood and white, sharp-cut edged furniture. The enormous slabs of glass panels looking out to the ocean below and beyond would have anyone looking from the outside believe all of my wildest dreams have come at once. But true happiness can’t be bought, having learned the truth behind that statement more than once during my existence.
The past four days and nights have been long and lonely and the most frightening I have known. My body is on high alert: constant twitching and shaking, heart palpitations when I hear footsteps headed down the lengthy wood-lined passage way leading to me. My head constantly swimming with thoughts, irrationalities, and escape plans. Never knowing when or if Dimitri will come to our room and expect and take from me whatever he chooses, I am on edge.
Eating breakfast and dinner with him is expected of me. I quickly learned again the first night, after the excruciating pain I delivered to my mother, that I am to be always fitted out in a dress. Coming to the dinner table still in the clothing I had worn while moving my boxes earned me a berating as though I had spent every last dime of his money. Running back to the room wasn’t an option. No… I was dragged by the arm back to my new and ridiculously large walk-in wardrobe with every type of clothing you could imagine but jeans or pants. Shoes, heels, boots long and short, ballet flats, and more swiveled around on a rotational shelf as Dimitri hauled us past it. The white drawers containing lingerie that would melt any girl’s heart and would without fail bring any man plunging to his knees only bought terror and sweat to my thudding head and chest.
Dimitri took pleasure in my forgetfulness, taking his time choosing what I would wear at the dinner table for our first night together, in our new house. The ghosted smiles that smirked across his lips, the glint in his normally dense eyes caught me off guard. His hands ran over the material of multiple dresses, caressing it between his fingers while his eyelids closed momentarily, as though he was savoring the touch. Red stretchy material was handed to me as was a black lace g-string and black lace bra with tiny red roses embroidered along the scalloped top. So delicate and feminine. His firm features back in place. Before heading out the door, he placed a pair of red patent Jimmy Choo Lance sandaled stilettos near my feet.
“Be back downstairs in ten minutes, Isla.” I’m surprised the floor didn’t dent underneath his heavy steps as he stormed out, leaving me in a whirlwind.
Cast down were his eyes on his watch when I returned. The rules where outlined in black and white then at our first nightly dinner when I returned nine minutes thirty-four seconds later to the dinner table.
I would join him every breakfast and dinner unless he was detained. I would be suitably dressed for dinner at a time given to me daily and, if preferred, for breakfast I could wear my silken robe he had so thoughtfully bought for me. Lunch could be eaten in the house or he would have Maksim, my new loyal-to-Dimitri-only bodyguard, take me to a select few cafes. I was to make myself at home as this was my new place to live out the rest of my years, he boasted. Firmly during dinner, he informed me that my phone had been replaced with one from his security team outlining the features, listening devices, and embedded tracking installed in it in case harm should come to me. What a joke… The worst evil possible was already here… His number and that of my babysitter were programmed into it and that was it. I wasn’t permitted to leave the house under any other circumstances unless prior approval had been granted by his truly.
With my imprisonment part out of the way, next Dimitri turned to our bedroom arrangements. His words still caught in my head, “You are to be the future Mrs. Sokolov. We will be sleeping in the same room and the same bed from tonight, Isla.” The way his piercing eyes penetrated into me at that moment still permeates my spine, sending quivers through it. And with that out of the way, he pushed his chair back, excusing himself with a quick grunt, leaving me struggling to digest the mouthful of food I was chewing.
Sitting on the edge of the ultra-king size bed, for my fourth night as a prisoner, I wear a navy blue shift dress and black pumps. Hearing footsteps approaching the door, my back stiffens. For the past three nights, I have retreated to bed straight after dinner, only to be woken by Dimitri using his hands to caress my breasts through the silk baby dolls he has bought me to wear for pajamas. Last night his tongue joined the party, waking me from my only freedom—my dreams—licking me almost to the point of no return. But stopping before I detonated, leaving me on the cusp. I’m infuriated that my body can so easily respond to his touch, betraying me. He has refused my body a release it so desperately needs. I’m mainly angry at myself, however, because my body is wearing down with need, but I want Alex to be the only one who brings me to my nirvana.
I am thankful that he doesn’t talk or expect anything in return for now… After each brief encounter, he turns over, closing his eyes, leaving me on my side of the bed. He disappears most mornings early, having time for one breakfast with me only.
A rap of the door makes me leap up off the bed so I am facing the doorway. If it was Dimitri he would have charged on through it. Instead my burly, broad-shouldered bodyguard enters, grimacing at me. His big hand running through his coffee brown hair. My eyes stare into his hazel ones. I have no relationship with this man. Dimitri may be my captor, but this man is my prison warden. At least I can speak my mind to him without fear of being hurt. There’s no way in hell that this man would ever lay a hand on me unless it was for my protection. Dimitri would kill him…
“Yes.” My voice is strong and loud, venting days’ worth of frustrations upon him. My body is hard and straight as I grip my toes hard to the shoes I am wearing so I don’t fall over, giving my guise away.
“Mr. Sokolov won’t be home tonight for dinner. He suggests you carry on with your night.” It’s the first time I have heard his raspy voice directed at me and he turns within a millisecond of delivering his message and, without hesitation, walks straight back out the doorway away from me.
Marching to the door, facing the guy, I fire, “What the hell do you mean, carry on with my night? What am I supposed to do in this isolated, cold house by myself?” Without a single waiver, he continues to stride away from me.
Banging the door shut, my body sags. I should be relieved that I don’t have to converse with Dimitri but being alone eve
ry day without human contact is quickly becoming too much for me to handle. There’s no doubt in my mind he is doing this on purpose. Eliminating all distractions from my life so I am focused on him. Depriving me of human contact so I will lap up every bit of time he dedicates to me.
Looking over at my dressing table I see the phone Dimitri gave me. I need to be strong and assertive. I need to get out of this house. Scrolling though contacts, the whole two of them, I hit the one that states fiancé. Glancing at my ring, I still find this whole scenario out of this world and demented. There’s a low voice on the other end of the phone bringing me back to the present. Oh fuck… What was I thinking interrupting him?
“Isla! Why are you calling me?” He’s not happy about my impromptu call but at least he answered.
Gathering up courage, I firmly state, “I need to get out of this house for a while. I’m going crazy cooped up in here. Can I go to lunch with Jules tomorrow? Please?”
“You have everything at your fingertips there. Pool, library, gym, staff to wait on you and, if you need anything, I can have it bought to you, my dear.” Hearing the words through the phone in his authoritative voice, my shoulders are the first to go and my feet don’t want to support me any longer. I take a seat on the edge of the bed.
I half-heartedly ask one more time, “Please, Dimitri? Just a lunch with Jules.” Adding with more enthusiasm, “I want to show off my ring. I haven’t shown anyone but my mother.”
“Ummm…” My back lifts a millimeter or two. Dimitri is actually thinking about it. “I guess it couldn’t hurt. I can’t be with you though. I have a meeting I can’t miss. I had wanted to show off that ring on your finger together to the world. But okay.” A genuine smile breaks out on my face for the first time in days.
“Thank you, Dimitri,” I say with actual glee. I can’t contain myself.
“Remember, only her, Isla. I will organize a monumental gathering to reveal our marriage proposal for as soon as it can be possibly arranged. It’s time, Isla.” Without a bye, the phone call shuts down. Oh my gosh, I actually got my way with Dimitri. Albeit small, but any accomplishment with him is a major win.
Without waiting one minute, I quickly grab my handbag from the floor, grabbing my business card from my purse. I input Jules’ phone number into my new cell phone. How I haven’t remembered her number after all of these years baffles me. The phone is ringing and a hesitant sweet voice flows through the end, “Hello.”
“Jules, it’s me. How are you? Have you been ok?” I babble on as I kick off my black pumps and lay on the bed, speaking to my best friend who has stood by me though every ordeal this Russian man has dealt to me. Understanding my schedule, Jules made sure I came back alive after each nightly session with clients arranged by my now fiancé Dimitri. She battles with me over how I am unable to go to the police disclosing my torture and the evil Dimitri Sokolov is because he knows I killed my father. Determined that my mother and brother would never find out, I gave myself to him for the past six years to protect them and pay off my father’s debt. Jules is my rock.
“Isla!” A scream comes down the phone. I move the receiver back off my ear. “Isla. It’s so good to hear your voice. Are you alright?” Her voice changes, “Has he hurt you?”
Knowing very well that this phone is bugged and probably being recorded I keep it light. “I’m fine, Jules. I can’t stay on the phone long but are you free tomorrow for lunch? Dimitri has said I can go out to lunch with you if you’re free?”
“Of course… Anytime, anywhere, Isla. It’s so great to hear your voice.”
Rolling on to my stomach, bracing myself up on my elbows I close my eyes, pretending I’m back in my apartment. “How about our favorite, The Italiano? 1pm.” Excitement is flowing through me. My face hurting from the continuous smile.
“I will be there with bells on. Hang in there, Isla. See you tomorrow and I can’t wait to catch up on our girly chats. Will I invite Kameron?” I can hear traffic horns in the background, Jules must be going home from work or going out for dinner like a normal person does.
Sighing heavily, I only asked Dimitri about Jules so I had better not push my luck. My other wilder best friend will have to sit this one out or I may not get another opportunity to see anyone again. “Maybe not this time, Jules. I didn’t ask him about Kameron so I better not spring anything out of the ordinary on him. I don’t want to hang up but I must.” My face falls.
“Chin up, Isla Winters. See you at 1pm sharp.” Her positivity has kept me going and I will use it again to lighten me from inside.
“Tomorrow. Night, Jules.” I hang up the phone with a heavy heart but a small smile returns. I am having lunch with Jules… Tomorrow… Without him.
Feeling more positive than I have in days, I strip out of these ridiculous clothes, deciding to forget about dinner instead opting for a long bath encased in citrus bubble bath. The en suite is as palatial as the rest of the house. Black marble tiles adorn the floor, reflecting the silver wall tiles. Light shimmers off the glossy tiles, making the room look bigger still. It was only days ago when I shared more than a bath with Alex. Even thinking of him, strength flows through my veins. Four days without hearing his voice is the most torture I have endured in a very long time.
Lowering my body down into the steaming water, I close my eyes. Dimitri is out for a while longer, leaving me to my true love in my vivid thoughts. It takes all of three seconds to bring images of Alex to my mind. His toned torso, the rock-hard abs I feathered my fingers down not that long ago, his powerful hips ramming into my wet channel making my insides clench until I splinter apart into pure bliss. My fingertips reach down in the heated water to touch my pussy. My eyes stay shut, fantasizing that it’s Alex touching me. My other hand reaches for my erect nipple and tugs it to the point of pain. Arching my back into my hand, my fingers swirl faster, remembering how skilled Alex’s fingers are. Hitting perfectly the spot, winding me higher and higher. Moving my legs so they are on either side of the large black bath, my hips voluntarily move into my fingers, pulling and kneading harder on my nipple, giving me that extra burn. Slowly building, much slower than it does with the master, my heart thumps faster. The vein in my neck pumps the blood quicker. Opening my eyes for a brief second, my mouth wide open and taught when my climax rolls over me, I silently moan. A calmness washes over me when my limp body unclamps from its orgasm.
I have to trust Alex will find me a way out of this diabolical situation.
Heat radiates at my back.
Firm hands knead my breasts, stroking them, pulling at one of my most sensitive spots before rolling fingers twist them again repeating the routine.
My back arches as the delicious pain ripples through them. My curled-up legs unfold slowly, stretching out as my body wakes from a deep, deep sleep. After four nights of sleeping lightly, alert to anything taking place in my new surroundings, I must have slipped into a coma-like state after my soothing bath.
Parting my eyelids, the darkness surrounds me. The white furniture, dressing table, and everything else is voided by the black. The glass panels show a moonless night over an ebony section which takes home of the bright blue ocean in the daytime. The digital clock lets me know it’s 2:13am. Liquid is pooling between my legs.
The smell of cigars infiltrates my nostrils as my back moves, lifting my breasts forward under the pressure being asserted on my nipples. Next, a musk cologne swirls through the air.
His hands are on me again… Again, my body betrays me…
Slowly closing my eyes shut, I will with all my energy to not let him know I am awake. The only hands I want on me are those of my undercover angel’s. The man who has given me hope and strength after so many desperate and lonely years. A firmness is felt on my ass, protected only by the pink sheer lace fabric of my pajamas. His hips move forward, grinding his dick on my ass with strength. Continuing to act as though I am asleep and oblivious to his advances, I think about how hopefully this man will soon be only a distance memory
for me to forget.
A silent whimper escapes my lips as Dimitri glides his fingers down the thin fabric, deftly moving aside my panties, touching my clit with precision. The presence of his chest rapidly heaving can be felt on my back. I wish my mind would get on the same page as my heart. This excruciating agony he is inflicting on my lower region is causing my breath to increase. Hiding my awake state is impossible. But I don’t have to acknowledge Dimitri’s onslaught.
“Oh, my dear… Your body is as perfect as I remember it those six years ago when you first came to me.” Hushed, low words are spoken. “You will beg me soon enough to give you the release you so desperately crave.” Lips move over my ear as his fingers still roam my ever-growing sensitive jewel.
I have never seen this gentler side of Dimitri before. Being used to his forceful and abrupt way of having sex is all I’ve encountered at his hands and those of his clients. This softer side alarms me more. I don’t know where it is headed. There will be an ulterior motive to his actions. There always is.
“My dear, dear Isla. Your body responds so beautifully under my guided touch. Your erect nipples and the juices flowing freely tell me you enjoy this, Isla.” A nip at my other ear while he squeezes my clit almost has me screaming my release. My eyes clench shut, urging my body to calm. My arms and shoulders tighten, taking my brain away from the other sensations swirling around my insides “This body is mine now.”
Rapidly moving his hand from between my legs, Dimitri rolls his body over, facing the other way, leaving me in a pent-up state.
A deep, commanding voice speaks. “It’s time to stop fighting. You will ask me. You will beg me to fuck you, Isla. Not until then though will you come.” Holding my breath, not in this lifetime will I ever beg you… My hands will be all I need until I have Alex back…
Five minutes later, snoring lets me know he is out. My body slowly returns to normal. Could denying orgasms send me over the breaking point? I can’t let it. I have to find my inner strength.