by SR Jones
The image of my cum leaking down Cassie’s legs, and I’m done for. I finish with a harsh groan and aim at my desk, coating the top and sides with thick white ropes. Shit, I’ll need to wipe it clean.
I’m just done pulling my zipper up when there’s a knock at the door. “Yeah?”
I take out my handkerchief and hastily wipe at the mess I’ve made on my desk before I go and unlock the door.
It’s Cassie. I stare at her and swallow down the sudden urge to stuff my handkerchief in her mouth and make her suck the cum from it.
Instead, I smile as if I’m all civilized and shit, and pocket it. “Yes?”
“Erm, I’ve just remembered that I was meant to be going clubbing with Suzy and Vanessa this weekend.” She smiles at me, winningly, taking me for a fool. “I could do with my phone back, the one you took from me so I can message them. They’ll worry, otherwise. They might go to the police.”
“You can have your phone back. Tomorrow. In this study, be here at ten am, and you can call Suzy. I’ll be here too. You can tell her how busy you are, but what an amazing opportunity this is, and for the next couple of weeks you’ll be working flat out as part of my team.”
“Do you think she’s going to buy that?” She crosses her arms, and my eyes automatically go to her tits.
She’s not in the swimsuit any longer, more’s the pity, but the t-shirt she’s wearing does a good enough job of showing me their outline.
“You’re staring at my chest.”
“It’s an impressive chest,” I say.
“Do you always stare at women’s breasts like some Neanderthal?”
I love her spark. I shouldn’t. I should want her to be compliant, the way most of my girlfriends are. Liza wasn’t, but she was more of the passive-aggressive, pouty, whining variety of non-obedience, whereas Cassie is fiery. It’s a weird juxtaposition, what with her moments of deep submissiveness, general sunny personality, and willingness to please. I kind of like using my assholeness to bring out her feisty side.
Most of my past women have been compliant because they didn’t care, and they liked being fucked and getting expensive gifts, so they didn’t cause any trouble in order to keep the party going. Cassie though? She’s different. She’d be a delightfully bratty sub, and I’d need to punish her a lot. Not that I’m into the lifestyle. I don’t like formal shit when it comes to sex, or contracts and the like. I’d rather just see what develops, but with Cassie? It goes deeper than the sex. She’s a mess that I want to sort out. A problem I want to solve.
“I own your ass for the foreseeable. I can look at your tits as blatantly as I like. I don’t owe you a damn thing, Cassie. Not even politeness.” I push, wondering if she’ll snap again. Wondering if I will.
She’s raging; I can see it. I bet she’s itching to slap me again. I wish she would. It’s like foreplay of the best kind.
There’s a dark, dark part of me itching to simply take her, whether she wants me to or not. I bet I could make her come even if she didn’t want me to. I won’t, though. Not even I’m that much of an asshole. To take a person’s body and use it against them is the worst crime one can commit. I know because I know a soldier who was raped by a gang of men while held prisoner. He told me one night, after far too many glasses of vodka, that he was defective. Turns out they’d made him come, and he couldn’t live with it. He killed himself five weeks later. We found him hanging from the rafters in the barrack room.
So no, as much as a sinister part of me might want to push Cassie as far as I can, I won’t do that to her. It would obliterate her sunshine, and that would be a crime against humanity. It would tarnish my soul forever.
If I take her, it will be because she wants it and can admit to it.
She turns on her heel smartly and leaves the room, giving me the finger as a parting gift.
I laugh and close the door behind her.
Even when she’s trying to be insulting, she makes me smile.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cassie
After two more days stuck inside my room, hiding from the human tornado that is Konstantin, I’m itching to explore. Tomorrow is the day Konstantin is not going to be here, as he and Vasily are heading off to collect two protection dogs.
It means Denis will oversee things so far as guarding Liza and myself goes, and Derek will oversee the staff and house. I’m going to take the chance for a good look around, safe in the knowledge I won’t bump into Konstantin.
The only place I go every day is the pool to swim, and it’s been mercifully quiet. The outdoor pool is not quiet. I can see it from one of the upper landing windows, and Michael is often around it with a woman I presume is his bride-to-be, a beautiful girl with dark hair and large dark brown eyes. She’s gorgeous and also pregnant, like the repulsive Liza. As well as the woman, Michael seems to have the same group of friends over most days, including the idiot I slept with all those weeks ago. It means the outdoor pool area is a no-go.
The kitchen is full of staff, and the men Konstantin has hired are always in and out. The den is often full of men too, on their downtime playing video games. And Liza has taken over the formal living room as her own. She camps out every day on the huge cream sofa, watching the shopping channels and eating junk food and chocolate. She also polishes her nails on it, which I think is a dangerous mistake. I can see her covering it in gunky liquid that won’t come off.
It means the house is packed with people I dislike, and that makes my room the safest place. But the indoor pool is blessedly quiet, as is the sauna to one side of it, the steam room, and the jacuzzi. Apparently, there’s a gym downstairs too, but I can hear the men clanging weights in there often when I’m in the pool, and I don’t want to see any of them. This suits me.
So every night I go to the pool around six, and I swim and swim, getting in exercise and working off my anxiety.
Tonight, I’m late for my swim. I got engrossed in the book Konstantin bought me. The Brother’s Karamazov. It’s way past time for the evening meal, so I’m hoping there will be no one around as I take the back stairs down to the basement pool.
I pull my robe around me as I enter the back stairs down to the basement level. There’s always a chill on these stairs, and I’ve never figured out where it comes from.
Once I hit the pool room, I drape my robe on the farthest lounge chair and walk around to the other side of the pool and stop in my tracks. There are people in the steam room. I peer in, barely able to see through the steam clouding the glass.
I realize it is Konstantin and Liza. She’s wearing a turquoise swimsuit and high heels. Is she for real? I don’t know how she balances on those things on a good day, never mind heavily pregnant.
She’s saying something to Konstantin that I can’t hear. I don’t know what possesses me, but I crouch down and scoot nearer, hiding behind a huge potted plant to one side of the last lounge chair.
“Come on, K. I know you must be horny as hell. I won’t ask anything in return; let me suck you.”
She kneels, but it’s clumsy. God, those tiles must be hurting her knees.
“Not going to happen, Liza.” He grabs her elbow and hoists her up.
“What’s wrong with you? Have you been chemically castrated?”
He pushes her toward the door, roughly. “I swear, Liza, one more word and you’re getting a slap.”
“You won’t hit me,” she goads. “You never have. You don’t hit women.”
“I can always make an exception. Now. Fuck. Off. And no, I’ve not been chemically castrated. Do you want the truth? The real, unvarnished truth?”
“Yes.” She leans in as if about to get a juicy morsel of gossip.
They’re at the door now, and I can see his face clearly. He sighs, and his face falls. He’s not enjoying this. “You repulse me. I’d rather stick my dick in a meat grinder than you. You’re the last woman I want to be near, and honestly? If you and I were the only two people left alive, I’d probably remain celibate. There, that
honest enough for you?”
Jesus.
His face isn’t cruel, though. I don’t think he’s goading her or being nasty. He’s telling the truth. A truth he wouldn’t have voiced if she hadn’t kept pushing him.
Her face hardens, her lips pressing into two thin cerise glossy lines, and her eyes narrow. “You fucking piece of shit. Who do you think you are? You’re nothing more than some jumped up street thug who thinks he’s someone now. You’ve bought into the hype your henchmen and the cheap Moscow street thugs build you up with, calling you a king. Well, you’re not. I’m a someone, and I can do better than you. This is the last chance you’ll ever have with me. We’re done, no matter if you come crawling over broken glass begging me to take you back.”
“Not going to happen.”
He’s out of the steam room now, still holding onto her arm, and I hide farther behind the plant. “Get out,” he says as he opens the door into the pool area and closes it firmly behind her. Then he locks it.
He. Locks. It.
Shit.
I can get out because he’s locked it from the inside, but doing so will give away the game that I was here. Or someone was. He’s going to turn this house upside down figuring out who. It means I have only one option. To stay hidden until he’s finished in the steam room.
Wearing only a white towel, so far as I can tell, he storms back into the steam room and lays across the bench, eyes closed, one arm over his face, the muscles bunching impressively.
He’s left the door open, and steam escapes in wisps like clouds floating into the pool area to dissipate the moment they hit cooler air.
God, please don’t let him fall asleep. I’m distinctly uncomfortable, crouching behind this damn plant.
The next moment, I’m wishing he had fallen asleep. Konstantin undoes the knot of the towel around his waist and pushes it from his thighs, revealing he’s wearing swim trunks, which he precedes to push down, freeing his erection.
Thank God it’s misty because I think if I could see clearly, I’d have groaned out loud at the sight in front of me.
He’s big all over.
One perfectly proportioned, beautiful machine, all hard and aching.
I’m aching too. My mouth is dry, and my heart is beating so fast it’s scary.
I shouldn’t be seeing this. It’s wrong. I’m betraying his privacy, but I can’t move. Even if that damn door wasn’t locked, I wouldn’t, couldn’t move. I’m transfixed.
Konstantin takes himself in hand so slowly it’s almost leisurely, then strokes up and back down his entire length and sighs. He gives himself a few more slow strokes before swiping his thumb over the head and once more resuming working himself.
I wonder if he’s spread pre-cum around to ease his way? I can’t see well enough to tell with the damned steam. Is he thinking about Liza, or some nameless, faceless women from the porn videos I’m sure he watches regularly?
His strokes increase in speed, and his stomach ripples as his muscles contract. Oh, he’s just divine. Glorious. The most erotic thing I’ve witnessed in my life is unfolding in front of me, and I shouldn’t be watching. I ought to close my eyes and wait for him to leave, but I can’t. I can’t miss this.
Despite not being involved in any way, this is the sexual high point of my life.
He thrusts his powerful hips up, fucking into his fist, and the tempo is faster now. He’s holding himself in a bruising grip, and my mind files away that he likes a firm grip, just in case.
I hold my breath at the same time he does, and his whole body stiffens before he falls over the edge with a groan and one word.
One word that burns itself into my soul.
Cassie.
**
The next day I’m up early, thankful Konstantin will be gone for most of the day, along with Vasily.
I hardly slept a wink, my long night tortured with erotic flashbacks to the porn show Konstantin gave me.
Worse, I felt awful guilt for spying on him and violating his privacy in such a manner.
I hid until he wiped himself down with the towel, wrapped it around himself, and left the pool area, leaving the door unlocked so I could make my escape. I didn’t go for a swim, too scared to stay in case he came back for some reason.
Instead, I counted to fifty and then scuttled out of the pool room. I ran all the way back to my room, where I stayed until this morning.
I head downstairs, once I’ve showered and dressed, and fix myself a plate of breakfast from the hot and cold options on the side in the kitchen. There’s one of those hot plates that keeps everything warm, with a variety of separate compartments. I lift the lids, and there's a whole host of tasty foods, including bacon, grilled tomatoes, plump mushrooms, and perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs.
Hungry, for a change, I shovel down a big plate of food and sigh as I contemplate what to do with myself today. I could call my grandma and see how they are doing, but I find it so hard to put on a cheery voice and blatantly lie to them.
I ought to do something proactive, like looking for a job, except Konstantin hasn’t given me Wi-Fi access, and I’m pretty sure none of the others in this house will easily supply me with the Wi-Fi password.
Nope, letting me on the internet is probably not on Konstantin’s list of things to do. Still, I don’t need his permission, do I? I’ve got skills, so long as there’s no one about, I could go into the study and have a look around. Maybe, just maybe, use the computer in there?
It’s risky, but with the two men who scare me the most gone, it's not as risky as it could be.
I need to see what’s going on in the outside world. Aliens could have landed for all I know. I haven't seen the news for days. I’m completely cut off, isolated, and lonely.
So lonely.
I miss Suzy and Vanessa, and I miss my grandparents most of all.
Sighing, I decide I’m far too chicken to go sneaking around in Konstantin’s study, and instead, I head back to my room where I read for an hour until my breakfast has settled, and then I decide to go for a swim.
I won’t risk seeing another show like the one before because the man in question isn’t here. Thank God because I don’t think my blood pressure could take it. I’d probably spontaneously combust.
As I sneak out of my door, making sure to look around, I spy Liza climbing the stairs at the end of the corridor.
I’ve never gone up those stairs. I know what’s up there. It’s a turret room, in this faux modern castle of a house, but other than that, I have no clue what it’s used for.
Why would Liza be going up there?
Curiosity killed the cat, but this little kitty is far too intrigued not to follow. So I do. Creeping quietly along the landing, I climb the thankfully solid, not creaky, stairs to the turret room.
The low murmur of voices greets me as I step onto the tiny hallway before a set of slightly ajar double doors. There’s another door to my right, and it’s open. I peer in and step inside to see a tiny box room with nothing but an old spindly desk right behind the door and a chair in front of it, then four or five boxes under the window ledge. I could look at them, but I don’t. Something stops me from snooping, even though some might say I have every damn right.
“It’s not safe to fucking talk, stupid.” The voice floats to me from the turret room.
It’s Denis. I recognize his deep bass tones and thick accent.
“You’re the stupid one!”
Liza this time. What the hell is she and Denis discussing? I exit the box room and walk to the partially open doors, keeping my footfall quiet.
“You were the one who told me that he’d give me money and send me away. You.”
She’s livid, I can tell by the tone of her voice. What she’s saying is incendiary.
Hardly daring to breathe, I listen intently.
“It’s not safe to talk,” Denis growls.
“Tough, arsewipe,” she spits in reply. “You got me into this situation, and this is the only time Konsta
ntin and Vasily aren’t going to be here. He’s going to find out this isn’t his baby, and then what?”
“I don’t know, Printsessa, I don’t have the answers.”
“You better come up with some, because if you think I won’t tell him you’re the father…”
I gasp and then freeze. Oh, God, did they hear me?
“You do that, and I’ll kill you,” Denis says.
I’m so relieved they didn’t hear me, I don’t freak out at him threatening to kill Liza.
“What? Kill the mother of your child? And how do you think K will react if he finds me dead. Poor old me, dead at the hands of his big thug.” She puts on a silly voice as she speaks. “What will he do to the big lug who did such a thing? He’ll fucking eviscerate you.”
I’m almost as shocked at her knowing the word eviscerate as I am at her and Denis being a thing. Why would any woman who has Konstantin lower herself to play around with Denis?
The next words from Denis provide an answer.
“Don’t forget, you came to me when he deserted you, and I was there for you, picked up the pieces.”
“You screwed me, Denis. You hardly put my heart back together. Don’t think that I don’t know what your motivations were. You hate the way he and Vasily and Bohdan talk about you. Hate the way they call you stupid, and you’re pissed at him, deep down. We fucked one another because we wanted to get back at him. We made a mistake, and I got pregnant, and then you were all: tell Konstantin it’s his, and he’ll give you a load of money, and we can run off together. You didn’t realize what a pseudo-noble bastard he is, did you?”
“So what do we do?” Denis sighs.
“You help me get away before I have this fucking baby, and he orders a paternity test. It will point right to you, and he will murder you, Denis. Worse! He’ll do worse, probably to me too. He killed his own fucking father; do you think that man has mercy in his soul? There must be something you can do. You’re allowed right into the inner circle. Isn’t there any way you can get money from him?”
