by Ana Calin
“Andrey, please listen to me,” I cry. “Big Boss and I, I didn’t –” But I don’t get to tell him that I ended the affair as soon as I found out he was married. That, if he left his family, it wasn’t for me.
“I don’t need explanations, Lila,” Andrey hisses. Seems he’s waited for this for too long to stop now. “I’m only telling you all this so you know what you’re paying for.” He takes a few steps away from me, his eyes burning with hatred.
“Let’s go, Mother. You don’t need to see this.” On a second thought, he turns to her. “Or do you?”
Mr. Bad and Mr. Worse tighten their grips around my wrists, keeping my arms wide open like I’m crucified. I’m exposed, Andrey and his unnaturally young mother could slaughter me, and I wouldn’t be able to defend myself. But as Mr. Bad slips a hand in my undies from behind, too eager and with a sharp intake of air, I realize what’s going to happen. I yelp, and Monique’s perfect cheek twitches.
“Don’t,” she reacts, and the man’s hand freezes. I read pity in her face. “Go straight to plan B. It has more class.”
The blood drains from my head in relief, and I sag in the men’s grip. Monique scans me up and down, then stalks out of the room as if she can’t stand the sight of my wretched state anymore. I feel dirty and ashamed.
The door closes behind her, and Andrey addresses his men. “Pull her up straight.”
The men tug at my arms. It hurts like they’re coming apart from my shoulders, and I grit my teeth with a grunt.
Andrey approaches. I can now feel his fresh cologne and his breath on my face.
“Please, let me explain,” I manage, my voice faint, but I go mute as Andrey Jones lets his hand run down my neck to my chest as if he barely restrains from strangling me. His jaw tightens, and my mouth pops open while he strokes my breasts above the bra line. A dark kind of lust ripples in his eyes, and I have trouble processing my own thoughts.
“My mother is right,” he slurs. “Rape doesn’t have class. But you know what does?” He bends closer and closer to my lips. “Having you beg for it. Beg and squirm to feel a man inside of you. And not just any man – Big Boss’ son.”
Chapter Four
Is this plan B? I’m stunned and unable to react as Andrey slips his thumb between my lips, parting them harshly, his mouth so close to mine I can feel his heat. He smells fresh, he smells good.
“You’ve been watching me from the back of the gym long before you met Tom,” he whispers. “Were you only studying your target, or did you like what you saw?”
Embarrassment shoots to my head, overtaking the fear. I feel my whole face flush.
“You arrogant prick,” I grunt, and bite hard into his thumb. He hisses, knitting his brows, but doesn’t pull his hand away. He strokes my lips with his bitten thumb. Does he freaking like it? Do I?
“You think I’d ever want you after what you did to me – and are still doing?” I manage.
“I just want to know why you looked at me the way you did. Was it my resemblance to my father – even though you weren’t aware of it at that time – or are you simply into my type?”
He does resemble Big Boss, but that’s not why I stalked him at the gym. I kept telling myself I was studying my future employer from afar, figuring out ways to get close to him in order to get my dream job, but in truth he was just maddeningly hot.
He takes a few steps backwards, still facing me restrained by the two goons, and begins unbuttoning his shirt. My mouth pops open. What the hell is he doing?
“Cuff her to the heater pipe,” he orders his men, without taking his eyes off me. “And get out.”
I’m almost relieved. At least he won’t humiliate me any further in front of these guys.
Mr. Bad hesitates for a moment, but Mr. Worse obeys immediately. He clasps my wrist and slaps the metal around it. He nudges my calves with his leg, which sends me skidding to my butt, but Mr. Bad is back to himself and catches me a second before I hit the ground. He lays me down gently, but he looks at me like he could impale me real hard with his shaft on the spot.
Both my arms are pulled upward, the small chain rattling against the pipe. The other end of the cuffs bites into my left wrist. I’m now lying half naked on the floor with my hands cuffed above my head, at the mercy of Andrey Jones’ scrutiny, and my heart slams like crazy into my chest. I’m not one to get turned on by bondage. This is no freaking game. I’m defenseless with a man who hates me.
Mr. Worse stomps towards the exit, but Mr. Bad only drags himself.
“If my mother asks, tell her the girl has been taken away,” Andrey says, his voice guttural, his eyes still on me. A bulge grows in his slacks, which stirs me, too. What the hell?
Mr. Bad glances over his shoulder with his neck tattoos and goatee, frowning and defiant, but doesn’t dare question his boss. Promises had been made to him – plan A – and now he must be feeling something has been ripped away from him. My thighs clench protectively in front of the most intimate part of my body, and defiance gives me fresh strength.
The door closes, and I glare at Andrey Jones as he looms over me, shuffling off his shirt and revealing his sculpted body. My fingernails pierce my palms – oh, how I used to dream of touching those muscles. He looks like a freaking Chippendale, and I’ve often masturbated under the duvet thinking of him. Turns out the bastard always knew I drooled over him, and now he uses it against me. I’m so embarrassed I grow angry, and bite hard into my lower lip. I swear to myself I’ll be the one having him beg.
“I may be lying on the floor, half naked,” I hiss. “But I’ll never give you power over me.”
“I already have power over you, Lila.” His voice is seductive but dark, contempt lurking in its undertones.
“If you force yourself on me, it won’t be any different than if you’d let those guys do it.”
Andrey laughs, looking down at me. That strong bone structure, those intense dark blue eyes like thunderclouds, the power on him. “I intend to have you beg, say and do anything in order to feel me inside of you, not to take you against your will.”
A cunning idea lights up in my head. “You swear that whatever happens, if I say no, it’s no.”
He juts out his chin. “Of course.”
“Swear.”
“I swear.”
I grin. “It’s a deal then.” Slowly, I part my thighs like I’m yielding to him. He blinks, his face sags, and his mouth opens in surprise.
“Make me beg you to take me, Andrey Jones,” I invite, my voice low and provocative.
He just stares at me for moments, a heartthrob with a hard-on and a dilemma. This surely isn’t what he expected that I’d do. I start rocking my hips towards him, slowly, like a dancer, my legs now open and my knees up to offer him a good view. I look up and down his body, licking my lips, and letting all the desire I felt for so long show in my face, hoping to drive him crazy with it. It seems to work. His bulge keeps growing, and I cream down there. The black silk panties slip between my folds as I move, revealing my glistening shaved flesh. A glint crosses Andrey’s eyes.
“I, I don’t,” he babbles. “This is –” He stops, frowns, looks to the side. His jaw tightens – the bastard is angry.
“You thought I’d fight it,” I purr as I rock my hips, hands gripping to the chain of my cuffs and the pipe as I arch and stretch like I’m giving myself to him. “Resist you until you gave me such pleasure with your hands or your mouth that I fell apart in front of you. Well, I decided to make things easier on you – you can pet me all you want, but you can’t stick your dick in me.”
His eyes flash, vicious. “I didn’t intend to give you pleasure with my mouth, you dirty wanton.” While he speaks he undoes his belt, reaches inside his slacks and frees his erection – thick, veined, mean-looking. Good God, the thing is so big, if he sticks it in I’ll feel it in my stomach.
I lick my lips, hips rocking faster, eyes locked on Andrey Jones’ manhood. Dirty wanton. That’s what he thinks I am, and I shoul
d dry instantly because of it. Instead, the folded flesh between my legs throbs with desire as I look at this angry and horny young stud. He clenches his fist around his shaft, a film of pre-juice on its head as he squeezes. I inhale sharply as my private part clenches with maddening desire.
The fact that I haven’t been with a man since Big Boss doesn’t help my cause, and the thought of being possessed with fury gives me hell of a thrill. Even love can rarely keep up with the fire of a testosterone-crazed alpha thrusting for all he’s worth only to prove he is boss.
He strokes himself up and down, the muscles in his forearm rippling, his eyes hungry on me. I undulate towards him, the panties sliding just right on my outer sweet spot, speeding the build-up. My body starts to burn, my cheeks light up, and Andrey Jones loses a sigh. He strokes himself faster, and frowns down on my undulating body.
Just moments later he masturbates violently and drops to his knees, hooking a finger into my bra and pushing it to the side of each of my breasts. My nipples harden at the contact with the cool air, and Andrey inhales sharply, but doesn’t touch me again. He takes in the sight of my quivering breasts like he could eat me alive, though. Cuffed to a heater, with my legs open and my most intimate part almost exposed and wet, I feel like a sex slave burning for her master. I have to resist him. I close my eyes, hoping that not seeing him will make the want easier to bear, though my body keeps moving.
“You think closing your eyes will control the desire,” Andrey says in a gruff voice. I open my eyes as he brings his thigh against my soaked pussy. He hooks a finger into my silk undies and flips them to the side. His minimal touch on my inflamed flesh makes me wince.
“You don’t have to. I’m a good guy, you see.” The strokes he applies to his shaft have slowed, and a glance at the huge mean thing tells me he can barely still restrain himself. The head is swollen and glistening, ready to spit its seed at me. “If it’s too much for you, rub on my thigh like the bitch that you are.”
Anger makes me even hornier. “You think I’m stupid enough to fall in that trap? Or does dirty talk simply turn you on?”
His eyes flash. His fist clenches on his shaft to keep it from throbbing, and he looks at me like he could stick his teeth into my flesh.
“What turns me on is having the bitch who robbed my father of his wits naked and helpless in my power,” he hisses.
The way he looks at my writhing body does things to me I’d never expected to feel, not for someone who wants to possess me in order to humiliate and subdue me. I have to make him want me more than I want him. I slither closer to his thigh and touch my soaked folds to the coarse fabric of his slacks, his thigh rocky under it. The sensation sends volts through my sweet spot, and I arch, my wrists straining against the cuffs.
“Aw, Andrey, put it in my mouth,” I hear myself whisper.
His frown deepens, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. I repeat it, and he can’t restrain anymore. He grabs a fistful of my hair, tugging painfully at the root and bringing his shaft to my lips. He’s brutal, and I love it.
The swollen, smooth head enters my mouth, and my heart drums like crazy. It tastes salty, and it’s hot. Andrey groans from his chest as he slides in deep, the head reaching to the back of my throat, gagging me and making me climax all over the expensive fabric of his trousers. My head spins, and my whole body clenches in that humiliating position like a pretzel with my private part above his knee and my head between his legs. The cuffs bite so deep into my skin as I strain against them that I feel warm blood trickle down my wrists, but the orgasm outshines all other sensations.
Andrey’s throbbing shaft muffles my moans. He stills in my mouth and arches his head back, letting out a long groan like a wolf releasing a howl he’d been restraining for too long. This is my chance. He’s a second away from coming.
Summoning all the strength left in my body, I lift my knees, plant them on Andrey’s hips and use my weight to shove him back. He could anchor himself in place and resist the push, keeping his fist in my hair and shooting his seed down my throat, but he doesn’t. He lets go and falls backwards, his shaft pulling swiftly from my mouth with a popping sound. Only a few warm, salty drops of his seed splash my lips.
He rises quickly to his feet. Once again he stands tall above me, his vicious manhood long and thick and painfully reddened with the need to release its load. He looks like he experiences the very definition of blue balls.
I grin. “I invited you in, but I didn’t say you could come in my mouth.”
“Let me do you, and I’ll give you the gift of your life.” His voice is so hoarse and thick with want that it baffles me, his gaze that of a caveman who’s lost all connection to reason. By God, how I love the sight of his face right now.
I burst into fake laughter. “You hold your own juice in very hard regard, Mr. Jones. The gift of my life.”
“That’s not what I mean. I decide if you live or die, Lila, don’t forget that. You’re completely in my hands.” His eyes are dark and very dangerous. I fix mine on them. I become aware that I have only this one chance to play my cards right.
“So we’re up from rape to blackmail?”
Andrey’s torso bolts down to me and he grabs my jaw, his glare burning into mine. “I had evil plans for you, Lila, and there was initially no way around them. Let’s say I’ve decided to give you a chance to survive. Take it because otherwise, trust me, you won’t live to tell your tale.”
For some reason all I can think about right now is of him lifting those weights at the gym, a film of sweat over his snaking muscles, aware of me creeping on him from somewhere in the back. Despising me. Make him sweat for it.
I narrow my eyes. “How do I know you’ll keep your promise?”
“Aren’t I keeping a promise right now? I could force your legs apart and just take you, and yet I’m keeping my word – not without your permission, not even if my balls feel like they’ll explode any second.”
The desire in his voice, the fire in his eyes, the way he says what he says, I can’t resist him anymore. I relax in his grip and open my legs wide. I have nothing more to lose, I already lost everything.
“Take me, Andrey Jones,” I whisper.
The sound that comes out of his throat at my words makes me melt. The deep growl of an animal that hasn’t wanted anything more in its life. He launches himself at me like a starved panther, ripping my panties off and burying himself to the hilt inside of me in one smooth, slick move, relishing every inch as he penetrates me. I arch back with a moan, my eyelids fluttering as he reaches so deep that he pushes against my inner organs. But the pleasure is beyond words, current spreading all through my body as he rocks his hips into mine, at first slow, and then faster and faster. We’re both so worked up that it doesn’t take long until he floods me with his seed, and I clench around him in a shattering climax, our desperate moans surely making it beyond the room walls. Andrey’s hands support me under my back, his fingers like claws into my skin.
“Now I see why men lose their heads for you,” he growls in my ear, his breath hot on my cheek.
We stay entangled with each other for long moments. Andrey’s breath evens out against the curve of my neck while I stare up at the ceiling, just baffled.
“Andrey?”
“Yes,” he whispers, so soft that for a second I doubt he’s the same man who hates me to death.
“I broke up with your father when I found out that he was married. I’m not the reason he –”
He lifts his beautiful face – so much bigger than mine, I realize now that he’s so close – and glares at me. “I’m still hilt deep inside of you,” he hisses, “and you choose to talk about him?”
“I just want to –” But he doesn’t let me finish. He comes to his feet and buckles his belt, sneering at me.
“You want to soften me with lies?”
“They’re not lies!”
He puts his shirt back on with angry moves, his eyes shooting daggers at me. “Listen, Lila
Banks. You knew how to play your cards, and I made a promise to you, even though it’s completely out of character for me to let myself be manipulated like that. I will keep said promise, but do not mistake that for weakness.”
With one last steely glare he turns on his heel and starts towards the door.
“Wait.” I call. He turns.
“What?”
“We didn’t use protection. Aren’t you afraid that you might get, you know, sexually transmitted souvenirs from me?” I sneer, since it’s the only power I have left. I’m hanging wet and roughly used by the heater, probably looking worse than the dirtiest prostitute. Andrey grins like a careless boy oblivious to the fact that he just broke a heart beyond repair.
“I promised you the gift of your life and yes, my juice contains it.”
Crap! “You don’t mean –”
“No, Lila, I don’t mean babies or disease.”
“What do you mean then?”
His jaw sets. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
He opens the door and motions people to come in. The first people to pass the threshold are Mr. Bad and Mr. Worse. Behind them, two men carry what looks like a stretcher with a covered body, and place it on the floor at my feet. They shuffle the cellophane off to reveal the corpse of Dr. Boyd, my supervisor at the Jinx. I release a scream, shock exploding in my head.
