Only Pretend

by Nora Flite

  His eyes flashed. “Why are you scared of him?”

  I dug my fingers into the blankets. “I—I just know he's dangerous.”

  “Oh?” Venom dripped from his voice, his shadow falling over me with just a minor adjustment in how he leaned. “Then you're asking to stay here, to stay with me?”

  Could my eyes get any wider? “Yes.” I didn't want to lie. Lying had done nothing but put me on this path towards Vitaly in the first place.

  In front of me, Leonide's features scrunched; I saw a hint of his teeth. “The parts of him that frighten you are the same parts of me.” His hand came down on mine, trapping it on the mattress. “The things he's asked for? I've enjoyed putting you through all of them. He and I are no different.”

  Looking into his threatening glare, I didn't flinch. “You're wrong. There is something different. He doesn't care about me.”

  His hand stiffened on mine. I tensed, expecting him to hurt me. It was worse when he let go, arm falling limply into his lap. None of the tension had left his tone. “And neither do I.”

  Splinters of doubt drilled into me. “You're a liar.”

  “No!” His lips curled back. “You're the one who tells lies, sweet girl. You tell them to yourself, convincing that mind of yours that I could somehow even try to care for you.” He drew further away, chair rocking back and forth. Leonide burned with energy, openly fidgeted. I wondered if he was fighting between fleeing me or attacking. “You think that because I've worked to keep you together, that saving you from yourself meant I felt something more.”

  “Stop,” I croaked, losing ground to his ruthlessness.

  Standing tall, he frowned at me. “You want me to love you. You're the most delusional girl I've ever met.”

  I told myself I wouldn't cry anymore. Maybe I did lie to myself; the hot liquid burning down my cheeks was a bitter pill. “Please, just stop it.”

  “I try to give you a new life, a new home, and you thank me by making me chase you naked through the fucking mud—”

  “Stop it!”

  “—All the lies about obeying, about listening to what I say! You want to try and convince yourself that I love you—to try and trick me into thinking you want to stay at my side?”

  Through my blurred vision, I saw only his scowl. “I'm not lying! I do want to stay with you, I don't want to be sold off as a slave to someone I never even—”

  His hand came down, halting inches from my face. He was coiled, ready to hit and barely holding back. “What did I say before? About calling me a slaver?”

  Cringing away, I held my weak arms up to shield me. “I didn't... I just...”

  Slowly, he lowered his arm. The heat in his eyes had evaporated, he looked like he'd remembered something that had made him sad. In a blink, it vanished behind his stern mask; fingers smoothed through his hair. “It doesn't matter. How could I believe anything you say, Celeste? You lied from the very start.”

  He didn't need to explain. I touched my hair, felt the weight of it like the blonde strands were iron chains. Anguish infused my every word. “I was only playing pretend.”

  Leonide looked down on me, pure winter and razors in both eyes and tongue. “And now you must keep playing. This is your existence, Celeste. Playing pretend for another man. I hope it's a game you're ready to play for the rest of your life. If you ever stop, both of us lose... but your loss will be greater.”

  I knew what he meant.

  He would lose face to the men who bought his 'goods' and spread his name fondly.

  But I would be thrown aside by my new husband.

  I would be killed.

  From his pocket, he drew a syringe. “For the pain,” he said, looking at my bandages. There was no way to know if he did it out of kindness, for he claimed louder and louder that he took care of me due to pure greed. I was his product, the proof of his family's lineage. Giving me to Vitaly meant more to him than anything I could offer.

  Leonide claimed he didn't care. He crowed it from the roof tops, battled to make me believe his every word. But, as I fell asleep under the crushing weight of the drugs, I fought for one last castle in the sky; the memory of Marat, how Leonide's jealousy had looked me in the eye.

  I had seen into his head that night.

  It's more than my body he lusts for.

  It kept my hope alive.

  ****

  The scar on my arm was obvious evidence of my escape. It had healed well, the stitches thin and even. I didn't recall the doctor putting them in; I didn't like the holes in my memory.

  Leonide let me stay in his room while I recovered. He was there when I woke, and as far as I knew, there when I slept. Always in that chair, the sentinel that guarded my world.

  The drugs came less and less, until I endured the gnawing desire to scratch at the scar without medicine to temper it. That was the day he brought out the leash.

  Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I looked warily between the leather strap he had stretched between his fists and his expectant smile. “You're not going to walk me like a dog, are you?”

  “You've gained a lot of your spark back,” he observed. The sound of the leash snapping like a belt startled me. “The time left to prepare you is dwindling. Vitaly said he'd accept you as you were, but that was when he thought you were his cookie-cutter American dream.” His eyebrows lowered. “We know the truth, he doesn't.”

  I swallowed loudly. “You expect me to somehow sneak away to bleach my roots in secret. Without him realizing.”

  “You fooled me. You'll find a way to fool him.”

  My attention went back to the leash. “So what's that for?”

  “In case he discovers your ploy.” Leonide thumbed the glossy leather. “Vitaly isn't known to be forgiving. However, if I can mold you into perfection in every other way... he may look aside on the day he discovers his wife isn't what he thought.”

  He wanted to ship me off as fast as possible, before. Now he's back to striving to train me. If Leonide thought death lay in my path, was he working to prevent it? He could save me by not sending me to Vitaly at all, I thought bitterly. “What man has his wife wear a leash?”

  “Some men enjoy debasing their women.” Darkness twinkled in his smile; a hint of the creature I'd been living with, the part he'd let slide out of view for some unknown reason. “But this isn't meant for that. Not quite.” Moving close, he held out his palm. “Leaving you alone, even locked up, hasn't helped tame you. When I'm beside you, you seem to soften.”

  I snapped my eyes to the silver hook on the end of the strap. “Please don't put that around my throat.”

  He chuckled, digging into his pocket. “If I wanted to collar you, you couldn't stop me. But, that isn't my goal.” The small, black cuff was strapped around my wrist. The leash hooked into place, a small padlock making the fixture permanent.

  Turning my arm, I felt the constricting material. Trying to remove it would be a waste of time. “If I'm in here with you, I can't clean, I can't cook. Isn't that a waste of my skills?”

  Standing straight, Leonide locked the other end of the leash to the frame of the bed. “The skills Vitaly cares about most have little to do with your chores. You know how to do those, anyhow.”

  Jiggling the leash, I gauged the length. I'd be able to walk barely into the bathroom, but not capable of going out into the hall. I know what he's worried about. The computer sat further away than I'd seen it last. He'd replaced the keyboard, a fact that sank into my stomach like jagged gravel.

  Leonide saw where I'd glanced. “Yes. I want you here where I can see you at all hours, influence you, work with you. I'm not going to let you try anything else.” He rubbed the bridge between his eyes. “One bloody nose was enough.”

  Chewing inside my cheek, I shifted on the bed. “So I'm going to be your personal whore.”

  Snorting, he reached down, stroked my scalp. “We have to start over, sweet girl.” Finger coiled, yanked at my roots until I gasped. “It's 'your personal whore, sir.
'”

  Fire bloomed from the top of my head, rushed into my loins. The way he said 'whore' in that liquid accent of his, it woke my body; left me dizzy. Yes, I am twisted. I'm a fucking wreck, getting excited by this. But it felt wonderful in an oddly familiar way, having him fawning over me like this.

  If I can't convince him I want to stay with him with my words...

  Maybe my body can explain for me.

  “Sir.” The single word was a perverse treat. “You're right. I'm going to be your personal whore, sir.”

  His hand loosened. Had I surprised him? Letting me go, he stood before me and visibly gathered himself. “I think you're mocking me. Let's put it to the test.” Leonide scanned me over. “Take off your clothes.”

  A wisp of excitement danced in my heart. I'd done this before with him; as challenges went, it was nothing. Dressed in a strappy pink sundress, I scrunched it to my waist. My calves hung over the edge of the bed, toes not touching the floor; perched on a bridge and ready to toss bread to the fish below.

  Leonide's eyes said he was famished.

  I ran into a problem quickly. Tugging the garment over my head, messing my hair, it dangled on my arm with the leash in the way. In nothing but pale yellow lingerie, I gave him an imploring look. “I think I need help, sir.”

  The blade shone like a new sun. I'd forgotten about that knife; now, he lowered it to the cloth, cut it free. The shredded dress fell to the floor. “Would you like more help?” He leaned over me, one knee on the bed by my hip. The flat side of the knife kissed my shoulder.

  Now the fear took hold.

  “Please don't cut me,” I whispered, licking my lower lip.

  His eyes shifted, no light touching them or his smirk. Wordless, he pressed the tip of his blade under my bra strap; it popped away like a cork. “Lay down.”

  Every fiber in me strained, carefully lowering me onto my back. Even if I didn't think he'd slice me, it was a constant battle to tell my subconscious that.

  The cool metal tickled, laid between my bare breasts. My ribs squeezed, holding in air; one wrong twitch and he'd cut me to ribbons.

  Long fingers turned the knife, sharp side level with my belly button. “Are you afraid of me, sweet girl?”

  Too nervous to talk, I gave a sharp, short head shake.

  Leonide's face went to stone. “You should be.”

  Every word I spoke was a challenge. I felt the blade when I breathed. “You wouldn't... damage me... on purpose.”

  Black eyes narrowed, curiosity in his soft voice. “What's to stop me?”

  My tongue felt numb. “You.” A simple word. The weight of it gave him pause.

  In a quick, deft motion, he hooked the knife under the top of my panties. We both felt how rigid I went. “Don't be so confident,” he said. The silky cloth split, peeled down my thighs like a dying flower's petals. “I've hurt you before.”

  “Only when I didn't listen, sir.” I noted him slip the knife away; sighed in relief.

  “Only when you didn't listen,” he agreed. “Are you listening now?”

  My chin bobbed.

  Hooking under my arms, he pushed me up the bed. It was large enough that he could sit at the base between my feet. “Then play with yourself for me.”

  Gawking down between my knees, I felt hyper-aware of my nudity. The leash strangled my wrist, thighs pushing together out of modesty. “That...”

  “You must know how to. I caught you trying weeks ago.”

  Thinking of how he'd burst in on me turned my whole body red. “How did you know I was doing that?”

  Tilting his head, he leaned my way a mere inch; it still made me tremble. “If I said I had someone eavesdropping, would you believe me?” I wrinkled my nose at his chuckle. “You won't like the truth. I've had cameras with night vision running in my house for some time.”

  “Cameras!” I blurted, shame over taking me. “You've been watching me while I sleep? But—then, why do you need to do this?” I rattled the leash.

  “I told you.” His hand stroked up my ankle. “It's best to have you near me. Besides, cameras or not, I hardly plan to stay up all night monitoring you on my computer.”

  I shot my blue stare towards the device across the room. I shouldn't be surprised. He clearly has the money and experience to have thought about bugging his home.

  Fingers rubbed along the inside of my foot. “No more delaying. Touch yourself, Celeste. You called yourself my personal whore. Prove you aren't bluffing. Show me what you can do, make me believe I'm not wasting my time training you to obey.”

  Shaking like a leaf, I spread my knees. He didn't hide how intently he watched. Leonide lacked shame while I fought to keep it from strangling me.

  “Good girl,” he said encouragingly. “Show me how you get yourself off.”

  Flames ate my cheeks up. Running my fingers down, I tentatively grazed the top of my pussy. Bits of me were disgusted by what he was making me do; the greater whole was being taken over by sweltering desire.

  Fondling myself went from humiliating to glorious. If he wanted me to get off like this, then fuck, I'd go for it. Let him watch. I dared to meet his glowing eyes. Let him see what he's done to me.

  Or maybe what I always was.

  “Mn,” I whimpered, finger tips grinding over my swelling bump. I was already going wild, ready to feel my heat turn into release. Leonide shifted between my feet, his palm gripping his erection. The sight of it jolted my heart.

  He smoothed his forehead. “Keep going, Celeste.” The zipper peeled, his rigid shaft bouncing into the light. “Don't slow down. I want to see you moaning.”

  His voice ruled my ears; my own lust commanded my body. We masturbated together, pace melding until I wondered if I wanted him to orgasm more than I wanted myself to. I'd never seen him finish, he just teased me or fled before the moment.

  Sweat slid down his temple; delicious lips parted as he breathed. The tip of his cock was ruddy, angry and glistening with early juices. I wanted to kiss him and fuck him and do everything or anything to feel him touching me.

  My foot slipped forward, brushed his thigh then his fist on his manhood. If it was his surprised grunt or how those fallen-star eyes fixed on me, I didn't know. I just knew I was writhing, decimated by the tingling rush that was my orgasm. I came, shuddering and gasping with my toes curling where they touched him.

  “Fuck,” he hissed. His accent made the word poetry. My muscles still wriggled as he pushed himself over me. Hands grabbed at the blanket on either side of my head. Without thinking, I leaned up and kissed him. Sin and insanity and a hint of scotch; that was how he tasted.

  Leonide pulled away. I started to follow, but he gripped my shoulder, shoved me down. Beneath him, I looked into the raw hunger in his face and felt my lower belly tighten. There was more under his surface, seeping out in how his soft lips kept flexing on the edges. Does he want to scowl or smile? Anxious with my need, I slid my hands down to his waist; tried to arch up into him. Leonide dodged me.

  “What's wrong, what did I do?” I asked, wishing I could see into his mind.

  A sliver of danger moved from his tongue to my ears. “Everything. You did everything.” It was accusatory, but I had no time to dwell. Leonide crashed into me like a comet, an impact that went beyond skin and bone. Hands trapped my jaw, forced me still while he explored every nook of my mouth. A kiss like that, it searched me—judged me—as if I had the answer to what ailed him.

  Whatever he found, it didn't cure his fervor. Teeth bit, pulled, taught me that there was some pain worth experiencing. I'd have let him consume me until I was nothing but a faint moan. I'd let him do anything to my body; to my soul. As long as Leonide hungered for me, I felt my fears about my future crumble under his presence.

  To be distracted from my demons—my sadness—all because he chewed me to pieces...

  I wanted him more than ever.

  His limbs crushed me, cock sandwiched between us and fueling my madness. His shirt was rough on my
nipples, beard scraping away at my cheek. He wore me down until I was nothing but a wet mess, pleading for him to finally take me.

  He growled in my ear, clawed at me not like someone in love—but someone who hated my guts. I didn't care. I didn't fucking care at all. Even hate was better than indifference; more satisfying than the man who had slid on a mask and could walk away from me after his dick had been inside my mouth.

  This was the creature who had lashed out at me the time I'd lashed out at him.

  I wanted to cling on and never let him return into his emotionless shell.

  “Stupid fucking girl,” he said against me. My hairs prickled at his husky tone. “You're going to do it, aren't you?” Nails cut into my ribs. “You're going to ruin everything.”

  Ruin everything? It was laughable. He's the one ruining me. I didn't get beyond a throaty groan in argument; the head of his cock burrowed along my soaked lips. The second of tension buzzing in me shattered.

  Leonide slid his entire length inside to the root. Splotches of color filled my brain, my vision. I knew I was crying out, but only because my lungs were aching from the effort; there was nothing in my ears but the low gong of white noise.

  It wasn't right or okay or any fucking logical thing. I could blame the build up, how he'd taunted me for weeks—had it been over a month, now? The reality was that I'd never felt so freed to the pleasure of a man filling me up. I'd never disliked the sex with Jones, but to compare that to this was looking for similarities between a river and the sea.

  Both were water.

  That was where it ended.

  “Leonide!” His name fled my lips; I couldn't take it back. His hips gyrated, stealing from me what he craved. It would have been selfish—terrifying—if I hadn't been a ball of delicious pleasure.

  He flexed inside of me, breathed steam against my throat. The threads of ecstasy rocked from my core towards my toes, taking my strength as they went. Which of us finished first, I couldn't have said. We were both liquid sex, wound together as our hearts thrummed through our chests.