by Lylah James
He winked and then started to walk away. “It looks like I will be having my fun too. Time to see my wife.”
Valentin walked out of the door, and I stood frozen—silent. My breath left me in a loud whoosh, and my knees weakened.
I closed my eyes and turned my head toward the ceiling, trying to get rid of this sick feeling inside of me.
My heart clenched, and I couldn’t breathe. My stomach churned painfully, and I fought against the urge to retch at the thought of Valentin touching my sweet Valerie.
I am sorry, silent myshka.
Chapter 23
Valerie
All the hopes that I had shattered at the sight of my husband walking inside my room.
The dreams I had been holding on to—Viktor’s touch, his kisses, his gentle hold, everything flashed in front of my eyes.
And then they came to a screeching halt, like I was suddenly submerged under cold water and drowning. In my mind, I was gasping for breath, struggling to stay afloat. Struggling to just breathe, but then I would be pushed under the water again. Drowning again.
Drowning in my own fear and sorrow. I was withering in the darkness.
Through blurred eyes, I watched my nightmare walk forward. He walked slowly, his gaze tracking his prey, his victim.
He smirked so sinisterly, and I shuddered, my whole body trembling in fear and agony. I hated his touch.
And now I hated it even more. Only because I knew how it felt to be touched differently.
Valentin stopped at the foot of the bed. He tugged at his tie, pulling it over his head, and then throwing it on the bed. His suit jacket came off next, and he rolled his sleeves up before starting to unbutton his shirt.
He raised a dark eyebrow, waiting. My heart stuttered painfully, and my training kicked in. My mouth parted in a silent cry as I knew I broke another rule.
Always kneel.
I was going to be punished.
Quickly getting off the bed, I knelt at the side. Sitting back on my heels, I pulled my dress up over my knees and spread my thighs a little. My head bowed in submission, and I waited.
I blinked the tears away and took a deep breath.
Strong. Be strong. You aren’t weak, Valerie.
I repeated the words over and over again in my head. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to be strong.
Valentin would break me. He would hurt me. Humiliate me. Cause me indescribable pain.
But I was going to stand up again.
I was strong.
A lone tear fell down my cheek, and I didn’t dare swipe it away. I didn’t dare to move. My eyes opened, and I stared at the floor in front of me.
Valentin walked closer, and his shoes touched my knees, a silent command. I spread my thighs wider.
I could feel his gaze on my skin, scorching me with its uninvited lust. Disgust rolled underneath my skin, but still, I didn’t move.
I waited. And waited.
He touched my hair, his fingers gentle at first. It was an illusion, because mere seconds later, his touch changed.
Valentin gripped my hair, twisting it around his wrist before snapping my head back. My neck ached at the sudden brutal touch, but I didn’t wince or flinch. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.
I breathed through my nose and tried to calm my wild, hurting heart. His smile made me nauseous, and his touch caused my skin to crawl, like thousands of tiny insects were moving under my skin, itching and bruising me.
I bled from inside, from my broken heart.
“Come do your wifely duties,” he said.
His words were a slap to my face, reminding me who I really was, who I really belonged to.
Valerie Solonik.
His wife.
And it was time to pleasure my husband.
The fantasyland where I created my own story, where Viktor was my husband—it was just a dream and it would only ever be a dream.
The heartache caused by the realization was painful. I was robbed of my breath. How gullible and naïve I was.
I had let myself get swept away by Viktor and forgot my reality.
Valentin walked away, and I stood up, following after him as he went into the bathroom. My throat was tight, and my tongue felt heavy in my mouth.
He stood still as I started to undress him, removing his shirt first and then his pants. I even helped him take off his newly polished, expensive shoes.
Valentin stood naked in front of me, his leering eyes watching as I took off my dress and underwear.
He didn’t touch me, yet I had to touch him. I was forced to touch him.
We got into the shower, the water cascading around us. He reached out and touched my cheek, his fingers going lower and then pinching my nipple.
I gasped silently at the pain, but it was quickly gone when he let go. I swallowed nervously, almost choking on my own distress. My breath caught in my chest as I started to wash him.
My movement was slow, making sure I was washing him properly. I remembered his furious face when I would hurry and mess even this simple task. My lessons were learned in the most painful way.
My punishments were carried out to be remembered and never forgotten.
The horror I would go through as I was made to feel—I felt them every time he touched me. Even if sometimes his touch was gentle, I would remember the times when he hurt me.
I remembered the times when blood would pool between my legs after the nights he would use me so relentlessly and unforgivingly.
My task was carried out perfectly, like a trained slave. I knelt at his feet, washing his legs. His length hardened, and I closed my eyes.
The water continued to cascade around us, washing away my tears.
I lost control, but I knew he wouldn’t see my weakness. I breathed through my nose and then opened my eyes. My skin prickled, hating what was coming next.
My stomach rolled, yet I continued with my wifely duties. Taking his hardness in my hand, I pumped him once and then twice. Even though my ears were useless, I imagined him hissing in pleasure.
I looked up to see his eyes closed, his head thrown back and his smirk in place. My chest tightened, and my eyes burned with more tears as I moved closer.
My lips parted, and I took his cock in my mouth.
Heaviness settled in my stomach, and I fought against the urge to retch. His fingers wrapped around my hair, and he controlled my movement.
Valentin took my mouth hard, fucking it without a second thought. I gagged and struggled against the intrusion, yet he didn’t seem to care.
He didn’t give me a chance to catch my breath as he pumped his cock in my mouth. He kicked open my thighs, forcing them apart. I gasped when he pushed his foot hard against my core.
I tried to close my legs, but Valentin snapped my head forward, hard onto his length, and he hit the back of my throat.
Dizziness consumed me, the world swirling around me. My eyes blurred, black spots appearing in front of my sight. The warmth of the water was almost too much, my body heating, and I was floating.
Higher and higher, leaving the pain behind. Closing my eyes, I surrendered.
My body was limp in his hold as he continued to use my mouth. When his cum filled my mouth, I gagged and sputtered. He slipped out past my lips, the rest of his semen covering my body.
I wheezed for breath, my throat and chest hurting.
Through blurred eyes, I saw him speaking. “Wash yourself with it.”
Swallowing hard, I pressed my lips together and did as I was told. My hands came up, pressing against my chest, and I rubbed his cum over my body.
His eyes flared with possessiveness—almost territorial. He nodded in satisfaction, letting me know he was pleased with me.
I stood up and let the water wash away his filth. After soaping up my body, I quickly rinsed myself. His gaze stayed on me, watching my every movement. When I was done, we stepped out of the shower.
Valentin stood still as I rubbed the towel over his bod
y. Even at his age, he was a fit man. In his younger days, it was obvious he took great care of his body. His muscles still were defined, although he had gained a little more weight.
His hair was grey on both of his temples. The corners of his eyes wrinkled, and now he was keeping a beard. He was a handsome man, and I knew he was even handsomer when he was younger.
But sometimes beauty was only for the eyes. The outward appearance was pointless compared to the inner self of a person.
What was outside beauty when one held no inside beauty?
Valentin showed me the truth. He was a monster in disguise, and as long as I played the prey in this game, I had a chance at staying alive.
I snapped out of my thoughts when he gripped my cheeks and pulled me closer. His lips slammed on mine, kissing me hard, brutally. His teeth bit down on my plump lips, drawing blood.
He licked the droplets, his fingers digging into my skin. His grip on my jaw hardened to the point of pain, and I was almost scared he would shatter my bones.
The bruising grip didn’t relent, and he was walking us backward, out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He continued kissing me. I stayed lifeless in his arms, refusing to return his kiss.
When his lips released mine, his hand pushed down on my shoulders. I sank to my knees without a second thought.
I watched him walk away and retrieve something from the chair, something that wasn’t there before. He must have placed it there when he walked in.
I had been too lost to notice.
With the box in his hands, he sat on the bed in front of me. Valentin opened it, showing me the inside. My breath left me in a loud whoosh.
My gaze snapped back up and he smiled. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His voice dropped low, almost seductively.
It was beautiful. Truly.
But the meaning behind me left me shuddering. His depraved thoughts were written all over the beautiful jewel.
“It’s made with diamonds and sapphire. The most expensive crystals just for you, Valeria. Something beautiful to match your beauty,” he explained as he took it from the box.
He held the necklace for me to see.
It was thick, and I knew it would cover most of my neck. It was adorned with diamonds, both large and small. Around it, there were teardrop shapes made with sapphire. In the middle, there was a small crystalized loop.
It wasn’t just a beautiful piece of jewelry.
It was a collar.
A reminder that I was nothing more but his doll, a pet. He fed me. He clothed me. He made me dance to his tunes. Without asking, Valentin leaned forward and held the collar to my neck, latching it from behind. He moved back and admired his handiwork, his eyes flashing dangerously.
Valentin looked like a man out of control, the beast inside of him ready to be unleashed. His new way of branding me had pleased him.
His finger went inside the loop, and he dragged me closer by it. His next words were used to break me. Completely and utterly broken.
I shattered at his demand, the few pieces left of my heart broke away—the shards lost in the empty darkness.
“Dance for me.”
I choked back a sob, my chest tightening and my throat working against the tears. My eyes burned, and I forced myself not to cry. How could someone be so cruel?
It was all for nothing. I had nothing left of me.
Dancing used to be my dream, my solace. My everything. It was my very breath.
When Valentin took me, I left dancing in its shielded box. He forbade me to dance, and I was thankful for it.
I thanked my lucky stars, because at least then…something so beautiful wouldn’t be tainted by this cruel world.
Dancing was white and pure.
Valentin was dark and tainted.
The two would never merge, yet here he was—destroying another beauty.
Seven years and I hadn’t danced—seven years, and I had protected myself. I had protected my dreams, the wings on my back that would help me fly when I would dance.
My head snapped to the side, my cheek aching at the sudden harsh slap. It brought me back to the present.
Dance for me.
A command, not a request.
So I stood up and did as I was commanded.
I danced.
I danced for the Devil.
I danced until my heart bled and I was left with nothing—just emptiness.
The collar felt heavy around my neck, suffocating me. I wore his jewels while dancing for him.
My body moved fluidly and with poise. Even without years of practice, the elegance of dancing didn’t leave me.
Dancing used to be my art—an awe-inspiring art. A graceful and exquisite art. A beauty in the eye of the beholder. But as a dancer, I would feel its beauty too.
Every step I took, I felt it. I imagined it. I saw it.
But in this moment, my dancing wasn’t an art.
I was dancing for seduction. I was dancing to seduce my husband. A temptress in the eyes of the man in front of me.
I was the seductress, and I played my part.
Valentin devoured me with his eyes, snickering, and I could almost imagine him growling as I moved my body for him.
I felt sickened, my naked body flushed with embarrassment and disgust.
The tears fell down my cheeks, my body growing weaker, my head becoming heavier. Humiliated and degraded to the core, I closed my eyes.
In my head, I imagined Viktor. I imagined being a soundless siren to only Viktor.
I danced.
But now, I was dancing for him.
I could see his beautiful smile and his dark brown eyes glowing with adoration as he stared at me dancing.
My body moved easily, and I twirled. I twirled and twirled and twirled.
I forgot the collar. I forgot Valentin.
Instead, I floated away in my fantasyland to Viktor.
And I smiled.
Another tear dripped down my cheek, but I laughed silently, dancing and moving around the room with the same grace.
But now…for a small moment, I was happy. I could be happy with Viktor. My Viktor.
My hero in the world of villains.
I was breathless, high on an euphoric feeling—and then I crashed again.
Hitting the wall of a hard body, I stopped. My dream ended. My dance halted. And I was back in the present.
My eyes fluttered opened, and I silently gasped for breath. My cheeks felt heated and flushed—my whole body was warm.
But then I met the eyes of my husband. The coldness seeped into my body again.
“You dance so beautifully,” he said. “A fucking seductress, making me so hard watching this naked body move around.”
I trembled in his arms, but he held on tight. “Does it make your pussy wet to dance for me like this?”
NO! I mentally screamed and thrashed.
His hand moved down my body and pushed my legs open. His thigh moved in between, stopping me from closing them.
With his gaze still on mine, he thrust a finger inside me. Hard.
My lips parted, and I screamed. Silently.
My body shuddered and my stomach churned when he pushed in another finger. I wasn’t wet like he thought. The intrusion was painful, and it hurt so much. Too much for me to bear.
He thrust his fingers in and out, not caring that I wasn’t responding to his touches.
It appeared like he was tsking at me. “Scream for me, Valeria.”
No. I won’t scream. I will never scream.
Silence. I continued to give him silence. And I would forever give him silence.
A third finger entered me. He tortured me ruthlessly.
“Scream for me!” he thundered. My ears picked up his words, faintly, only because his voice was louder than usual.
I pressed my lips together, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
My inside was being ruined, bruised, and injured. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry out.
Briefl
y, I wondered why he wasn’t giving me the drugs. Why not play with my senses and make me come using the drugs?
But then, that would have been too easy. He wanted to hurt me.
His fingers left me, and my eyes widened, feeling the relief for only a brief second. Valentin dragged me by the hair, and he pushed me on the bed.
With my front on the bed, my legs dangling down and my ass pushed toward him, he mounted me like an animal.
He slammed into me without warning.
My breath left me, and I pushed my face into the mattress, my lips opening to silently scream and scream.
Valentin was rough, and I could feel blood dripping down between my legs. His fingers wrapped around my upper throat, and he squeezed.
I clawed at the mattress, begging for an escape. Begging for relief.
It hurt so much, my insides burning and being cut open, bleeding. My whole body was aching, hurting too much to move. He thrust painfully inside me.
With tears swimming in my eyes, I choked back a loud sob. My chin wobbled with the effort to keep myself from crying.
I didn’t have the strength to fight him. But I never fought him. I let him do whatever he wanted. I always let him.
The tears fell, wetting the mattress until it was soaked where my face pressed against it.
With Valentin’s breath on my neck, I imagined him laughing at my pain and demise.
With his cock hard in me, his fingers probed my ass. I felt him spit on my hole, and my eyes shut tight when he slowly pushed a finger in. And then two fingers.
He worked them slowly at the same time he continued to slam into my pussy. Within two seconds, the slow gentleness was gone and he was torturing my ass with hard, rough thrusts with his fingers.
My whole body was shaking and shuddering, the pain blinding me. It felt like I was being hit, thousands of lashes breaking my skin apart.
And then he was spilling inside of me, his semen coating my inside walls. He held himself still before he pulled out.
I sank to the floor, my legs too weak to hold me. My body was limp and battered.
My head thumped and I gagged, vomit now in my throat. I was shaking with agony and then I retched, throwing up on the floor where I lay lifelessly.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw Valentin getting dressed. When his clothes were covering his body, he walked forward. He knelt beside me, and in his hand, I saw the syringe.