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It was so intense, so overwhelming… and yet so satisfying.
But now that it’s over, all I can think about is how much I hate him for all of it. For taking advantage of my vulnerability and using it against me. For making me feel like a dirty little slut who was nothing more than a piece of meat to be used and discarded at will. I want to hate him more than anything right now, but something deep down inside of me is still clinging to that feeling of pleasure that came from being with him. That feeling of being alive and raw and uninhibited for the first time in my life… that feeling that made me want more and more of him no matter what he did or said.
I shake off the thoughts and sit up, trying to get my thoughts under control. I push myself out of bed and stumble over to the walk-in closet. I don’t know where my suitcases were taken, and I’m not going to put on yesterday’s jeans and T-shirt. I can’t look at them without imagining how he’d stripped them off of me. Not to mention that my panties are probably ruined.
The closet is huge, just like everything else here. And of course, everything is neatly ordered, with shirts hanging in color-coded rows over racks of gleaming shoes. I reach in and grab a white button-down, and tug it on. It smells faintly of Kirill when I sniff it, but I’m not going to focus on that. Although the thing reaches my knees, I don’t relish the idea of walking around the place with my ass bare. Yanking open drawers, I go through socks, rolled-up belts, ties, cufflinks, and watches until I reach one that holds tidy piles of underwear. I step into a pair of navy blue briefs; they’re snug at my waist, which is probably because the man has such lean hips. And yet again, I’m lost in memories of my hands running over him.
Maybe you really are a slut, Tiana.
Bullshit! He caught me in a moment of weakness. I just saw my dad get killed. I survived a hail of bullets. And an interrogation. I’m freaking traumatized!
Tossing my head, I turn to the door, setting my jaw as I imagine how good it would feel to kick him where it hurts right now.
Or maybe not. Because that particular region was the focus of my attention as I explored him last night. And it hadn’t felt bad. Far from it. It had been a moment of awe when my hands had closed around his thick shaft. I’ve only ever seen photos of men’s cocks, but that was enough to know that his is a magnificent specimen.
Oh, dear God; stop it!
That’s enough, Tiana.
Stomping across the room, I pull the door open and poke my head out, looking up and down the hallway. I hear voices coming from one end; probably the guards he’d told me about. The vultures who will be hanging over my every move for the rest of my life.
“Screw him!” I mutter as I tiptoe in the opposite direction. The sensible thing to do would be to make my way to the kitchen and rustle up some breakfast. But why choose the easy option?
“You will never go into the East Wing,” I mimic his deep voice and rounded syllables and then giggle at my audacity. My words are strangely loud in the empty hallway and I shoot a quick look around to make sure there’s nobody who might hear me. Why wouldn’t he want me to go there anyway? Is he hiding something? What if that’s the only place where I can escape the building?
A realization suddenly dawns on me.
Escape?
Why would he not want me to go there?
If there is a way to get out of here, I must know about it. Maybe I can still follow through with my plan. Maybe I’m not totally screwed.
A new life, a fresh start, Teetee.
You’ve been treated like a hostage your whole life.
You deserve it.
I lick my lips and an idea is being formed. I must find out what’s in this “East Wing”. If there’s an escape route, I need to see where it is. Maybe not all hope is lost. Maybe I can still take my one million and make a run for it. I just need to make sure nobody sees me.
I look back behind me, in the direction where I heard the thugs talk. There are still voices coming from the other end of the hallway, but they aren’t any different from before. Good. They haven’t noticed me.
What’s he going to do if he finds out you went to the East Wing, Tee?
Tie you up and spank you?
The thought of that shouldn’t make my pussy tighten, but it does. Obviously, because I’m nuts. I shake my head and turn my attention back to my little act of defiance, then stop short. Voices grow louder nearby, and I duck into a dining area as a group of men walk past. I catch snippets of their conversation. Mostly in Russian, but a few words in English tell me that they’re discussing the attack yesterday. I’m pretty sure it left them rattled.
I wait until they’re out of earshot before I head back down the hall. I’m still on the tip of my toes as I move in the opposite direction, to the one I came through when I arrived yesterday. If my instincts are right, I’m heading east, right into the danger zone. It’s only when I reach the last room in the hall, and then spot a doorway at the far edge of it that my courage starts to run out.
That must be it!
Come on Tee, you can do this!
Think of your plan!
Steeling myself, I put my hand on the doorknob, and of course, it’s locked. But that doesn’t deter me. I’m sure he wouldn’t keep a key on him at all times; he’d hide it someplace convenient. Looking around the room, I try to think the way that Kirill would. Where would I keep a key if I was a tall, Russian mobster who is built like a god and has the biggest dick in the world?
