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It’s never going to happen, I know that. That’s why I can fantasize. That’s why I’ll feel no guilt over it.
I only have to imagine those sultry lips, with too much to say for themselves, wrapped around my cock for me to feel the onset of an orgasm.
I pump furiously and keep my hips pumping up and down.
Oh, fucking princess, you have no idea the places I could take you ….
I grab the pillow from behind my head, muffling my release, shooting cum all over my torso. I’m loud in the bedroom and I do not want the whole house to hear me pleasuring myself.
I pulse and ride the wave until I’ve drained myself and I start to slow my breathing, still clutching my pulsing dick.
I come down from my high eventually, it could be minutes or an hour, I lose track of time. But fuck, that felt good. I realize at that moment that it was just what I needed.
This fucking girl is going to be the death of me.She has no fucking clue, or maybe she does, and she’s just playing us all.
I release the pillow from my face and look down at myself.
I’ve no idea what has gotten into me or why I would possibly think this little fantasy is a good idea.
I’ll forget about this whole thing ever happened …. as soon as the morning light comes.
Then it’s back to business as usual, and she can hate me all she likes.
6
KATIYA
I wakeup as the sun is just peeking through the curtains.
I’m happy I was able to get back to sleep after that asshole locked me in here last night.
I actually have no idea who the hell he thinks he is talking to me like that and then locking me in the bedroom after what I’ve endured this past week. The guy obviously has no moral compass whatsoever.
I spent most of the night mentally stabbing him to death.
I have completely dismissed the fact that I’ve given the guy more sass than humanly possible in the few hours I’ve known him and flung things at his head, but I shrug that notion away completely. I can’t come across as weak. These guys wouldn’t respect me if I was being miss goody two shoes and don’t I know it.
I’m mafia too, I know how it works.
I’ve been thinking about Vlad all night. The man who haunts me. The man I’ve known all my life but have never let touch me. He’ll be growing concerned if he doesn't hear from me soon, even if I told him my girls' trip was going to be a bit of a break for me to clear my head.
That evidently didn’t go down well; he’s very much the typical Russian male, and it wouldplease my uncle to no end for us to end up together as he plans. I balk at the thought. I’m much too young for that, but I don't have a choice like most things in my life.
I don’t hate my uncle, far from it, but he can be a complicated and stubborn man especially once he makes his mind up about something, it's final.
He and my father have told me I must marry Vlad by the time I turn twenty-four.
It’s an arranged marriage and one that I don’t agree with.
Vlad and I have known each other since we were kids. He’s cold and one-sided, and I often wonder if he even likes women. On paper, though, he’s the quintessential Russian husband, and it couldn’t be further away from what I want.
When I’m out, I always have chaperones, and I prefer to call them that other than what they really are; bodyguard stalkers hired by my father to keep tabs on me.
Although I wasn’t with Vlad when I was kidnapped, it surprises me that the chaperones weren’t close enough to intervene. The one time I would have been happy for their intervention and they failed, fucking typical, but it’s the story of my life.
Maybe my father honestly thinks I’m with my friends Anastasia and Monique.
I stretch my aching limbs when I flip the covers back. I take a shower to freshen up, though my wrists are still sore and bloody. Sage gave me some antiseptic cream to put on and it stung like a bitch. Other than a few bruises, I came out reasonably unscathed.
