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The words fill my head, but I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing my focus back to Matvey, the man I love, the man who’s kissing me and holding me so damn sweetly.
All you’ll ever be good for is a fuck, so that’s what I’m going to use you for. Every part of you will be mine. I’m going to ruin every goddamn hole you have, and you’re going to cry so fucking sweetly for me while I do it, aren’t you, pet?
The pained groan escapes before I can stop it, and Matvey immediately freezes. When he starts to pull back, I dig my fingers into his back. “No, please, don’t stop.”
“Alina,” he starts to say, but I cut him off with a kiss. I put everything I have into it, kissing him hard as I try to fight my way through the memories that are pressing down on me and making me feel like I can’t breathe. It takes me several seconds to realize he’s not kissing me back.
“Please,” I beg. “I can do this. I know I can.”
“Malishka.” The sadness in his voice feels like a bucket of cold water being thrown on me, and when I start to cry, he turns on his side and pulls me against him, spooning me with his body so I’m completely cocooned. But no matter how protected I may be, it doesn’t stop the memories, it doesn’t stop the voice in my head, and it doesn’t take the pain from my chest. I just wanted this moment with him. I wanted to push through, because I thought that maybe if we had sex, then it might push away the memories of Konstantin, but I’d been an idiot to think it would be so simple.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Matvey whispers in my ear, kissing me and stroking my hair as his other arm keeps me in a tight hug.
I don’t bother telling him that it will never be okay. Instead I crymyself to sleep, waking up several minutes or a few hours later to an empty bed.
“Matvey?”
My eyes search the dark room before my fuzzy brain registers the sound of the shower and the dim light coming from beneath the closed bathroom door. With a groan, I lay back against the bed, reliving the memory of what happened. Knowing I won’t be able to fall back asleep, I turn on the bedside light and sit up. Trying to find the book we’ve been reading, I search the bedside, but the book Matvey’s been reading to me isn’t there. Shoving the covers off, I force myself to leave the cozy warmth in search of something to read.
The bookshelf in the corner is full of my old books, and when I start digging around, I see he’s added several more since I’ve been gone. My breath catches in my throat when I realize he’s added on to my favorite series because the newest books must’ve been published after I was taken. Reaching for the closest one, I open it and see the message written inside.
Alina,
I know how much you love this series. I’m sorry you couldn’t read it the day it was published, but it’s here waiting for you, just like I am.
All my love,
Matvey
I flip through a few more, reading the sweet inscriptions, feeling so much love but also so much pain when I think about what we both went through. I’m about to pick one and take it to bed when I see another book wedged in the corner, pushed back and hidden from view unless you’re squatting down and staring at it straight-on like I am right now. The spine is a plain black, no title or author to give it away, and when I pull it out, I see it’s not a book at all; it’s a sketchpad. Matvey is a man of many talents, but he’s not an artist, and he’s never showed any interest in learning to draw, so with curious fingers, I open it up. The last thing I’m expecting is to see my face staring back at me. I’m naked and on all fours, the end of my leash held in Konstantin’s hand as he looks down at me with a disgusted look on his face.
“What?”
My whispered question dies on my tongue as my knees buckle and I crumple to the floor. I flip through the pages, each one more graphic and brutal than the last, and when I see the drawings of Vitaly, I realize this must be Katya’s sketchpad. She’s the only one who would be able to draw these things, because she’s the only one who saw them, and by the time I hear the bathroom door open, I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“Alina?”
Matvey’s worried voice feels very far away, and when he squats down next to me in nothing but a pair of black sweats, I barely register the sight of him. My eyes run over him, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him bare chested since I’ve been back. When I see the new tattoos, I’m still too stunned to even comment on the sight of my name written over his heart. All I can think about are the drawings in my hand, the drawings that he’s seen.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t want you to find those, but I couldn’t bring myself to give them back. It felt too personal for anyone else to have.”
“They’re Katya’s?”
“They are. She has nightmares, too, and drawing helps her get them out of her head.”
He cups my face, gently wiping away the tears I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
Matvey looks at the sketchpad I’m still holding. “It’s how we found you. Katya was drawing one of these after a nightmare, and Vitaly just happened to wake up and see it.”
My heart drops at his words. “Vitaly saw these?”
The pain in Matvey’s eyes and the flash of guilt warns me that there’s more to this than I realize. Shame floods through me when I think of Matvey looking at these images, but to know that Vitaly also saw me like this is just too damn much.
I force myself to ask, “Who else saw them?”
When he hesitates, I grip his wrist. “Please tell me.”
He sighs and drops his eyes for a second before facing me again. “Everyone.”
