by Zoe Blake
Still, I was no angel. Far from it.
Her tears wet my fingers as her open lips pressed against my palm. I spanked her several more times, wanting to make sure the next time she even thought about doing something so foolish, she would remember this punishment and reconsider.
Her ivory skin was a harsh, mottled pink. There were several areas where I could practically make out a full handprint. My mark.
Placing myself behind her, I kicked her legs wider.
“If I remove my hand, do you promise not to scream?”
She nodded.
I rubbed my right hand over her ass then squeezed her flesh, knowing it would send sharp pins and needles of pain up her spine.
She rose up on her toes as she squealed.
“If you do, I punish this ass all over again.”
She nodded her head vigorously, signaling she understood.
I removed my hand.
Remaining prone on the hood of the car, her cheek resting against the warm metal, she hiccupped as the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. I pushed her soft curls aside. Hushing her, my low soothing tone belied my words. “Next time, I’ll use my belt. Do you understand?”
She didn’t answer.
“Otvet' mne.”
“Yes,” she sniffled.
I was pleased she remembered that phrase meant answer me in Russian. Something told me I would be using it a lot around my malen'kiy angel. She had a quick ear for language. Perhaps I should start teaching her more Russian phrases. Far more dirtier ones.
I stopped myself. There was no point in thinking along those lines. In less than a month, I would have her shipped off to Europe. Safely locked away in the remotest, all-girls, convent-like university I could find.
Looking down at her prone form, I traced the outline of her lace thong. I caressed the crease between her ass cheeks, placing a finger under the small strip of fabric. I pressed deeper till I could feel the soft ridges of her dark hole beneath my fingertip. Yelena inhaled sharply and stiffened.
My cock swelled even harder.
Until then….
What harm could there be in giving the devil just a tiny taste of heaven?
Going down on my haunches, I caressed the backs of her thighs with both hands. “Push your hips out for me.”
I was shocked when she obeyed.
Pressing into her inner thighs with my thumbs, I guided her legs open a bit wider as I tilted her hips back. Pulling on her thong, I moved the scrap of fabric out of the way.
She was slick with arousal.
My babygirl was turned on from the spanking she had just received.
I stifled a groan.
Christ. She was going to be the death of me.
Her pussy had a thin dusting of baby soft blonde curls. Slipping my hands deeper between her legs, I used my thumbs to open her up to me. Leaning in close, I swiped my tongue over her pussy from behind. I groaned. “You taste so sweet, baby.”
A sudden sharp and swift stab of jealousy hit my gut. Rising, I took her by the shoulders and spun her to face me. Grabbing her chin, I tilted her face up to meet mine. “Tell me the truth, has any other man touched you there? Tasted you?”
Yelena bit her full bottom lip.
“Otvet' mne, angel.”
She shook her head.
That was good. If she had said yes, I might have demanded a name and who knows what I would have been capable of.
I reached over and pulled open the passenger side door. Lifting her against me, keeping her dress pulled up high over her hips, I swung her around and placed her inside with her legs dangling over the seat edge. A breath hissed through her teeth as her punished bare ass hit the soft leather seat.
Kneeling down into the thick sweet grass, I wrapped my hands around her calves and lifted her legs over my shoulders.
“What are you — Oh God!”
Using the edge of my thumbs to once more open her to me, I leaned down and flicked my tongue over her clit, using the tip to play with the tiny nub. Swirling and tasting. Yelena groaned as her fingers delved into my hair, holding me closer.
The sweet musky scent of her almost drove me over the edge. Shifting, I had to push the heel of my palm along my hard shaft just to ease the throbbing ache.
I slipped a finger into her wet heat. Christ she was so impossibly tight. There was no way my cock wasn’t going to tear her. I clenched my teeth and reined in those sublime thoughts.
One taste of her was all I was going to allow myself.
If I sunk my cock into her wet heat, I knew deep in my bones I would never let her go.
She’d be mine forever.
I would drag her deeper into my dark and violent life, using her as my only light source.
It wouldn't be fair to her.
No matter the cost to my sanity, I was determined to walk away from her.
This had already gone way further than I'd ever intended.
I would relish this one taste of her.
Burn the memory of her orgasm into my memory as the one and only time I glimpsed heaven.
Stroking her with one finger, then two, I flicked my tongue over her swollen nub till she cried out in ecstasy. Her hips rose as her thighs clenched close to my jaw, surrounding me with the soft feel of her skin and her warm scent.
Without a word, I lowered her dress over her exposed thighs and stood. Gently swinging her legs to the left, I placed them inside the car and closed the door. I noticed her discarded purse on the ground and picked it up. Before entering the car, I flicked it open and took out her cell phone, slipping it into my trouser pocket.
Silently, I got back behind the wheel and started up the engine. Throwing the car into reverse, I pulled back onto the street and turned toward the hotel.
She dutifully didn’t say a word as I checked her into a suite at the front desk under my name. She didn’t even protest when I ordered her to sit as I went into the gift shop. Since I had her purse, I was at least confident if she ran this time she wouldn’t get as far. The hotel was mostly deserted so I wasn’t worried about her approaching anyone. If she tried to flag down a staff member, she wouldn’t get far with them. The Ivanov family kept a house account here. Our money was worth far more to them than the ravings of a young woman in a ruined gown in the middle of the night.
Selecting a few items, my mouth quirked as I imagined the look on her face when she saw the cheesy tourist t-shirt I purchased for her to sleep in. Knowing her, she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it outside the room. I thought about forcing her to strip out of her dress when we got to the suite as an extra precaution but then thought better of it. I had put her through enough for one night.
Grabbing a fashion magazine on impulse, I added it to my pile of purchases, shaking my head and internally admonishing myself over my foolishness.
If any of my comrades could see me now, I would never live it down.
I couldn’t even really explain it.
There was just something about her that had instantly drawn me in.
It wasn’t just her beauty and obvious intelligence.
It was something else.
A vulnerability.
She hid it well. Most would never notice it. They would see her pretty looks, brash mouth and bold manner and move on, but it was there. Hidden deep in the depths of her eyes. I'd seen it that day when I'd caught her stealing and it was still there.
Even earlier tonight. When she was taunting me on the dance floor from across the room. At first, I thought she was being a typical young woman, testing her flirting mettle on an older man. Granted, I was only older by less than ten years, but still. As I got closer and held her in my arms, I realized I was wrong. There was something deeper at play.
A desperation.
She didn’t want me to see past the pretty face and flirtatious looks.
To see her.
That was what all the makeup and cheap designer dresses were about.
On that dance floor, I hadn't just see
n the black eye no one else bothered to notice. I had truly seen her, like no one else had.
Shaking off the destructive thoughts, I exited the gift shop and wrapped my hand around her slim upper arm, leading her to the elevators. Once inside, she sagged slightly against me. Shifting the bag to my wrist, I bent down and lifted her slight body into my arms, ignoring her half protest. I set her down when we were just outside the room.
She still hadn’t said a single word.
Swinging the door open, I picked her up into my arms. Carrying her past the expansive lounge area, I marched through the double doors that led into the bedroom. I gently placed her down on the covers.
Placing a palm on either side of her head, I leaned down. Her usually bright blue eyes looked a darker sea blue with a hint of green in this light. Every ounce of my being wanted to crawl into bed beside her and hold her warm body close to mine. Thoughts of waking up next to her in bed each morning floated across my mind but were quickly chased away.
Those were thoughts for normal people with normal lives. Not for me.
“I want you to promise you will be a good girl and stay here.”
She nodded.
“I mean it, Yelena. You can’t fully appreciate how much trouble you are in right now or the caliber of the people who are looking for you. Hopefully, you won’t have to. I’m going to handle everything, but I need you to stay put. Do you understand me? Not one foot outside that door, or I swear to God you’ll be sorry.”
She nodded again before turning on her side and curling up like a little chipmunk. She looked so adorable. Reaching for the blanket folded neatly at the end of the bed, I shook it out and placed it over her half-asleep form. Tucking her in.
Allowing myself one last caress, I touched her blonde curls. She really did look like a beautiful angel.
For all her faults, Yelena was a lost angel with a slightly tarnished halo who didn’t deserve to be defiled by a demon like me.
Clenching my jaw, I curled my hands into fists and strode away.
An angel.
Little did I know how wrong I was.
She was no angel but a she-demon sent to torment me.
She fooled me that night.
Tricked me into believing in her innocence.
I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
Chapter 7
Yelena
I was late.
The moment the door closed, I threw off the blanket he had placed over me as I’d pretended to fall asleep. I raced over to the door and pressed my ear against the heavy wood, straining to hear any sounds of movement in the hallway. Hiking up my dress, I went down on my knees and leaned on my palms against the thick carpeting. I tilted my head and peered through the tiny slit under the door. After verifying there wasn’t a pair of designer men’s shoes on the other side, I watched closely for any shift in the light or shadow that would indicate someone standing nearby.
Nothing.
Leaning back on my haunches, I brushed off my palms with a grimace. Thank God this was at least the Four Seasons and not some scummy motel room. Still, that didn’t make kneeling on essentially a public floor that much less distasteful.
On edge, I paced the confines of the room from one side to the other. Instinctively, I reached into my purse for my cell phone, forgetting Damien had taken it from me.
Grabbing the grey plastic bag on the bed, I dumped out its contents. Damien had disappeared inside the gift shop before bringing me to the room. Lifting up the folded piece of white cotton, I shook it out and laughed at the I heart Washington, D.C. decal on the extra-large t-shirt. He’d also gotten me a toothbrush, toothpaste, a few snacks, and a copy of Vogue.
It was extraordinarily thoughtful.
He was still an overbearing, exceedingly arrogant Neanderthal for dragging me away like this, but I had to begrudgingly admit it was a nice gesture. True, my experience with men was basically non-existent, but I couldn’t imagine many would have thought of such necessities, especially the magazine.
After waiting an eternity, I grabbed my purse and bolero jacket and marched to the door. My heart was in my throat as I reached for the doorknob. My hands were shaking so bad, I had to grip it harder than usual. Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob, cringing at the loud metallic click when the lock slid back. I held the breath I'd just inhaled.
Waiting.
Listening.
There was nothing.
I pulled on the door, shifting it open a crack, then hopping back just in case. I had this image of Damien slamming the door against the wall as he stormed in, catching me mid-escape — and in the nose with the door.
One black eye was enough, thank you very much.
I waited again.
Still nothing.
Pulling the door open, I stuck my head out to peer down the left side of the hallway before snatching it back. I repeated the gesture and checked the right side.
The hallway was empty.
Everything was still and quiet, which wasn’t surprising given the late hour.
If I delayed much longer, I would be crazy late meeting Nadia and Samara. I took the first shaky step into the hallway. Quickening my pace, I took several more steps, nearly jumping a foot when the hotel door behind me finally closed shut with a loud thunk. The sound spurred me to run the remaining distance to the elevator. Constantly swinging my head left and right, I pressed the elevator down button several times, ignoring its steady red light. I probably should have taken the stairs, but I was an impossible number of floors up and still in heels.
Just in case, I got out one floor above the lobby level and walked down the final flight of stairs. Emerging through a small side door, I surveyed the lobby as best I could before venturing forth.
The lobby was mostly deserted. Nevertheless, every man I saw, regardless of his attire or appearance, looked like Damien to my overwrought eyes.
The cold night air stole my breath as I emerged from the warm confines of the hotel. Ignoring the doorman’s offer of a cab, I raced down the street to hail one at the corner.
Once inside, after giving directions to the intersection closest to Nadia’s house, I kept turning and looking through the back window, certain I would see Damien’s big black Mercedes barreling toward me.
It was only once we left the lights of the city behind and moved onto the much darker Rock Creek Parkway that I finally relaxed.
Looking down, I smoothed my wrinkled dress over my lap. I would have changed out of it, but all I had to wear was that oversized I Love Washington, D.C t-shirt, which I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing out in public.
Once more, I checked over my shoulder. The road behind us was dark and deserted.
What would Damien do if he caught me?
Would he spank me again? Maybe this time over his lap?
The thought brought a heated blush to my cheeks.
Closing my eyes, I could practically feel the press of the warm metal of his car as it pushed against my stomach. I could feel the cool slide of velvet as he pushed my dress up over my hips. Would he push down my white lace thong or leave it on like last time?
I could practically feel the first impact of his palm again as the heated sting radiated over my lower body to settle between my legs.
It was sick and twisted, but the threatening way he kept his hand over my mouth, cutting off my breath and preventing my screams turned me on as much as the pain. I wanted him to hurt me. To make me feel. To pull my hair and call me his good little girl in that deep, dark growly voice of his.
The image of his intense blue gaze boring into me as he pulled open my thighs and lowered his head between my legs to take that first taboo lick had me pressing the heel of my palm against the juncture of my thighs.
Glancing up, I made sure the taxi driver’s eyes were on the road and not peeping at me in the rear-view mirror.
Closing my eyes, I thought of Damien towering over my prone form.
Reaching those large, tattooed hands down to t
he fastening of his trousers.
Unbuttoning the top button, then slowly lowering the zipper.
His fingers would disappear inside the flap, to wrap around his heavy, thick…
“Miss, we are here.”
“What?”
“We are here, at your destination.”
“Oh, uh. Yes. Yes, sorry. How much?”
“Sixteen fifty.”
Flustered, I pulled out a twenty and tossed it to the driver. “Keep the change.”
I made a wide circle around Nadia’s house, hoping the night air would cool my cheeks and give me time to collect myself as I avoided the now-dark windows of her house. The party had ended over an hour ago. Just in case, I also peeked down the drive to make sure I didn’t see Damien’s car. I crept along the side hedge to the backyard and kept along the tree line until I could scurry across the lawn to our old childhood treehouse.
I called out in a harsh whisper. “Nadia? Samara?”
Samara poked her head out and waved me up.
Slipping off my heels, I put the ankle straps over my wrist and hiked my dress hem between my legs before gripping the first rough wood plank that was nailed into the wide tree trunk as a makeshift ladder. Gingerly, I made my way up into the close confines of the small one room cabin.
Pushing my unruly hair out of my face, I made myself comfortable on one of the many, slightly worn pillows we had strewn about the place.
Glancing to the left, I made sure the small backpack I had stashed in the dark corner under some old dolls was undisturbed. Everything looked in place.
I huffed, “No offense, Nadia, but that party sucked,” then turning to Samara I raised an eyebrow, “and what were you and Peter up to for so long?”
Samara shrugged. “We broke up.”
Nadia patted her shoulder as she made a sympathetic sound.
I shook my head. “Never liked him. Never trust a Gemini.”
My best memory of my mother was how she would sit every morning sipping her tea and reading our horoscopes from the newspaper. She would tell me over and over how I was a Sagittarius, which meant I was destined to take risks and dream big. My sign always chased the impossible. It’s written in the stars, Yelena, so it must be true, she used to say.