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Don’t think that far ahead. You’ll lose your mind if you do.
All I can think is that he’s someone who wants to avenge my father–someone who worked for my father and believed in his leadership, maybe, someone I didn’t know about. Someone obsessed with the power of Konstantin Obelensky. Someone so furious that I’d been a part of the events that killed my father that he’s decided to take revenge on my father’s behalf.
But it sounded as if he didn’t know that I was a part of it until he’d tortured that poor man. And he was following me before that, trying to figure out who I was. So that can’t be right–
I feel as if my mind is scrambled, confused, unable to make sense of any of this right now while I’m here in this moment, a knife still tracing patterns down my inner thigh.
I have to at leasttryto fight back, as terrifying as it is. I can’t let this arrogant, vengeful man get the better of me so quickly.
If this is how my life is going to end, I’m going to make him fucking work for it.
I yank against the cuffs again, glaring at him with as much distaste and anger as I can muster through my fear. “You’ve made a mistake,” I tell him as haughtily as I can, forcing as much fear out of my voice as I can manage, as if I’m absolutely certain of it. “I’m not who you think I am. If you were so worried about getting the wrong woman when you first saw me, congratulations–that’s exactly what you did.”
Mikhail smirks, his eyes still just as cold. He pauses, flicking the knife closed as his other hand stills, and as he tosses the knife to the other side of the bed I have a moment’s wild hope that somehow, despite all odds, he believes me.I can’t be that lucky.
He laughs, slow and deep. “Who would you like me to believe that you are, then?” There’s that sharp edge of danger to his tone, warning me away from the lie, but I’m not about to stop now.
I’d purposefully steered away from giving him too many details about the fake persona I’d created for our “dates”, not wanting to create something that I could potentially trip over later. Now I’m glad for that decision, because it means that I don’t have to remember what I told him before as I scramble for a story to concoct, something to try to convince him that he really has made a mistake.
“I told you,” I manage, forcing the words out past the lump of fear in my throat. “My name is Ekaterina. I’m from Moscow–my family had money, but my father lost it all in gambling debts. He killed himself when my mother found out, and she abandoned me, left me in a state home. When I aged out, I tried to find other work, but I ended up working at the club where you found me eventually, trying to make enough to figure out a different path. It seemed like decent money, and I thought it would only be for a little while.”
I feel the tiniest bit guilty, knowing I’ve stolen little bits of that story from my half-sister, but I tell myself she’d understand.No one can be expected to come up with a wholly original cover story in these circumstances.“I’m not the woman you’re looking for. I don’t know who she is. Please,” I add, softening my voice in a way that I hope might add something to my story, even though I despise asking him for anything. “Please listen. You’ve got the wrong person.”
He leans over me, his hard, muscular body stretched over mine, making me shrink back into the bed. And then, as he stares down at me, he laughs in my face.
“It’s going to be such a pleasure breaking you, Natalia,” he breathes.
I can’t help myself. A surge of anger floods through me, and I jerk on the cuffs, rearing up and spitting in his face the way he’d laughed in mine. “Fuck you!” I scream, all my attempts at calm reasoning fleeing, and Mikhail laughs again, leaning back as his hand quickens on his cock, his knees pushing my legs apart as he starts to stroke his reddened, straining cock in earnest.
“That’s fine,” he purrs, his voice a low rasp. “If you want to do this the hard way–well, that will be all the more pleasurable for me.” He hesitates, and then shudders, his mouth opening on a low keen of pleasure. “Oh god, I–”
His hips jerk forward as he moans, his cock throbbing as the head of it swells, and I realize what’s about to happen in the moment before he angles himself forward, the first spurt of his cum splashing onto my clit, dripping hotly down my pussy as his face contorts with pleasure. “You’remine,” he snarls, his hand stroking feverishly as his cum streaks across my skin, over my belly and breasts and thighs, lacing me in it as his gaze rakes over me, hot and possessive. “And you willneverescape.”
I lay there frozen, in stunned silence as he finishes, shuddering above me as the last of his cum drips onto my skin. He lets go of his cock, sliding off of the bed, and he stands next to it for a long moment, looking down at me bound and covered in him.
“Krasivyy,” he murmurs. “Beautiful.”
Slowly, he reaches out, brushing a tangle of hair away from my face. “I’ll let you rest now,kotenok.You’ll need all your strength later.”
He bends down, scooping his discarded clothes up from the floor.
And then, without another word, he’s gone.
Mikhail
Ileave the room feeling as if I’m nearly vibrating with adrenaline, still shuddering with the aftershocks of pleasure from my orgasm.I’ve done it,I think to myself, clutching my clothes in my fists as I stand just outside the door, still unable to quite believe that I’ve accomplished this at last.
Natalia Obelensky is mine. Under my control.
Mine to do with as I please.
Another shudder ripples through me at the memory of the fear in her eyes when I’d cuffed her, still buried inside of her, making her my captive in every way. The delicious pleasure of holding her down, impaled on my cock, feeling her twist and writhe as she tried to escape. The conversation we’d had, the look on her face as I’d explained it all to her, tracing the blade that I could use to so easily slice her flesh apart over every inch of her trembling body.
She’d come to my house willingly. It had all played out just as I’d hoped. She’d agreed to the date, agreed to come to my home, the one Vladimir had provided for exactly this purpose. She’d trusted me, even after I’d taken her upstairs and brought out the brat in her by forcing my cock down her throat. Even then, she’d given in to the pleasure.
She’d stayed the night, sleeping next to me, believing that no harm would come to her. And she’d woken to find how very wrong she was.
The sweetest part was how I’d made her come, just as I locked the cuffs onto her wrists. How it had taken her a moment to notice, she’d been so lost in pleasure.
