by Box Set
“I'm not gonna keep going over this, Blaire,” his voice deepens with authority as he says that, determined to get off the subject. “When I decided I wanted you, I told him then and there to stay away until your time with me is up. He knows better than to go against my word. He warned me you would resist, so I drugged you, and now you're here with me for three months.” He shrugs. “Get used to it.”
That's hard to digest. I can't imagine not speaking to my master for three months.
“What do you...” I start to say. “What-what can I do...” My mind is too chaotic. I don't even know what question to ask. Why did he just let me speak to Maksim if he doesn't want us to have any contact?
“Don’t be frightened,” Charlie whispers, cupping my face with his free hand. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“Liar,” I snap like a child, and he stands back, releasing me from the rule of his body. “You just admitted that you're going to do terrible things to me.”
I'm all for a bit of sadism. I can't stop myself from thinking about when Charlie said that at the Prince’s party.
Bending at the knees, he puts us at eye level. “If you misbehave, then yes I will hurt you.”
I sink into my shoulders, shooting him a daggering glare. “What have I ever done to make you want to hurt me? What have I ever done to make you want to do this to me?”
There's a moment of visual power exchange. I don't think he likes that I just asked him that. He sighs, blinking at me, his temple ticking. It's there again, that facade of pity. I wish it was real so I could use it to my advantage.
“Look,” he says softly, glancing between my eyes, “I won't hurt you beyond what you can handle, you have my word on that. If you want me to stop at any point, all you have to do is say, stop. Okay?”
Stop? Is he fucking kidding me?
“You know I can’t tell you to stop,” I hiss in his face. “I'm not allowed to.”
“Here”—he points at the ground between us—“with me, you can do whatever you like. All you have to do is open your mind.”
With one push, he knocks me back onto the bed and I fall with a bounce.
———
Charlie grabs the hem of my t-shirt and tugs it up over my head, leaving me in my black sports bra and sports trousers.
I do nothing. I just sit there huddled in my dark red hair as it pours around my body. I look at the floor, obeying Maksim, thought after thought romping through my mind. Charlie can't actually have sex with me, but that just makes the whole thought process worse because I have no idea how he's planning on getting his kicks.
I imagine a beating is on the cards tonight. Men like Charlie enjoy doing that.
When he backs up a few feet, I can't help peering up at him. He smiles down on me, tossing my shirt to the side.
“What is it?” he whispers, as I stare at him.
“Maksim told me to fulfill your needs,” I say, striving to gather my courage, “wha...what do you want?”
In silence, he gazes at me like he wants to devour my soul, diminishing my courage. I crawl back across the bed on my elbows to put some more space between us, my heart roaring in my ears.
“Well,” Charlie says finally, tilting his head, “I want to fuck you como loco—I thought that was obvious.”
My entire body sinks with anxiety.
When my naked back touches the cold wooden headboard, I shut my eyes and hug my middle, complying with Maksim's command not to fight. What's the fucking point? Either Maksim or Charlie is going to abuse me. I might as well accept the latter.
“You're like a beautiful, wild little wolf,” he rasps in the darkness.
I don't utter a word to that, and it's silent again. I can hear Charlie's heavy breathing over the blood roaring in my ears, but nothing else. The house feels so quiet.
The minutes creep by and nothing happens. Eventually, I have to open my eyes to look at him standing there at the foot of the bed, mentally beckoning him to get a fucking move on.
“What are you thinking?” he says, his eyes tapering with wonder.
Is that why he's taking so long? He wants to get in my mind?
“You're not allowed to take my virginity,” I warn, and I'm stunned by how even my voice comes out.
“So I'm told.” His blue eyes check me out from head to toe, and he's smiling to himself. It's like he's mentally taking off the rest of my clothes.
I hate that. It's so personal. I wish he'd just get it over and done with rather than longing it out and making me more uneasy than I already am.
As I blink away from Charlie, trying to center my thoughts on anything else but this, he rounds the bed. His eyes are on me the entire time. I hide in my hair curtaining my small frame, hugging my middle to the point where I almost can't breathe.
He's beside me now, but he doesn't touch me yet. A flicking sound like a lighter going off draws my attention. The room glows with a dancing orange flame. He's lighting a candle.
“Wha-what's that for?” I ask, swallowing after. “You-you're not going to burn me, are you?”
“What?” he says, sounding shocked. “Course I'm not gonna burn you.” He wants to know why I said that, I can sense it, but he doesn't question me.
On the bedside cabinet next to me, there's a candle burner. The rim is filled with liquid. I can't see what color. Charlie puts the candle inside the burner, under the liquid, and a strong scent fills the room. It's potent. It makes my head rush a little faster.
“What is that for?”
“These oils will help you relax,” Charlie says. Leaning over me, he hooks his fingers into the waist of my trousers. My stomach tightens from the skin to skin contact. I instinctively go for his wrists to stop him from touching me. He pauses, and I retreat with Maksim's order swimming in my mind.
“Are you gonna fight me?” he asks. He's so close that I can feel his warm breath on my forehead.
I don't look at him. I just shake my head.
“Es una pena.” It is a pity. Charlie tugs my trousers down my legs, yanking off my trainers one by one on his way to undressing me.
I sit bare in my bra and underwear now, my anxiety reaching its summit. The only time I was ever this apprehensive was when Maksim first belted me. The first time I told him no to sucking his cock.
What I wouldn’t give to go back to him right now. I miss what I know.
Huge hands close around my ankles and my toes curl. Charlie pulls me down so I'm lying on my back. My hair puddles around my face. I squeeze my thighs together and close my eyes. The blackness makes this seem almost like a bad dream.
Soft strands of hair tickle up my stomach, followed by a wet trail and the bed dipping around me. Charlie is licking his way up my body, over my navel, through my chest, and to my throat. Tension gathers low in my stomach, and my insides tingle.
His tongue on my body feels so good. I can't deny it.
The saliva trail turns from warm to cold within seconds, and I shiver.
“You liked it when I kissed you, didn't you?” he says. It doesn't sound like he's asking. It sounds like he's telling me what I already know.
I don't bother trying to rebuff him. He knows I liked it. I hardly fought him off.
To avoid kissing him again—this is my power over him—I turn my head to the side but it only gives him the access he wants. He presses kisses up the side of my neck, inhaling on his way, his smooth face gliding across my skin like satin. He sucks on my earlobe and nips with his teeth, sending some strange vibes through my body. I'm ashamed to admit I nearly moan.
“You smell creamy,” he says with puffs of breath in my ear, “hmm, like cocoa butter.”
Knees try to probe my legs open, but I squeeze my thighs together, hugging my breasts.
“Blaire,” he warns, his voice deepening, “if you're gonna fight, do it with some dignity.”
My blood simmers, but I reluctantly relax because I know he wants me to fight. I remember how much pleasure he took in our first battle—the firs
t time he won at kissing me. I won't let him have the pleasure of fighting me again.
A rough skinned hand forces me open, and his heavy weight settles between my thighs. His jeans chafe my sensitive skin. I'm glad he's fully clothed. I don't think I could handle him being naked at the moment.
Fingers touch my face, my jaw, and then my cheek. He kisses me there with gentle lips, adding a little pressure in places.
Fuck, I can smell him, the clean, soapy-musky fragrance of his skin, and he's so warm it almost feels like a hot summer's day in here. It's all so intense, and confusing—a horrifying mixture of things. I enjoyed the way he kissed me before and the way he just sucked my ear, but I am horrified.
I don't want this.
I want to go home.
“I'm glad to learn it's true what they say about redheads. They're fiery.” Charlie kisses down my neck and across my collarbones, his lips tender and nearly inviting. It has to be those oils he's burning, screwing with my head. “But you're not fiery anymore, are you? Not with your orders firmly dished out.” He sucks the pulsing vein in my neck with his lips and something surges through me. I jerk under him, unable to stop.
“What I'd give to have Maksim's control over you.”
“You're fucked up, you know that?” I spit at him, my cool slipping away. I wish he'd stop fucking talking.
I boldly meet his gaze. We're nose to nose.
“We're all a little fucked up,” he says in my face, his blue eyes glowing with zeal. “It's just, some of us aren't scared to admit it.”
“I don't mean like that,” I say through gritted teeth. “Look at you, Charlie, how handsome you are.” Putting my hands on his large shoulders to keep him an inch away, I soak up his handsomeness, the stark silver blueness in his eyes—I don't think I've ever seen eyes so untamed and beautiful. I glance down to look at the perfection of his lips, the sharpness of his features. “You don't need to do this.” I try to push him back another inch, but he isn't budging. His hard body just makes me feel weaker and more helpless. “Tell me why you're doing this to me.”
He tips his head to the side, lifts a hand, and strokes down my face. “Why should I tell you?”
I've got a million thoughts running through my mind. Is it just that he wants to fuck me? Or is he getting his revenge on Maksim through me?
I cannot ask that. I'm afraid he'll say yes.
“Since I saw you walk into Maksim's office, dripping in wild beauty,” he starts talking before I even answer him, “and ever since you defiantly mouthed me back at Rumo's place, I've wanted you.” Running his thumb and finger down my jaw line, he pinches my chin. “And I always get what I want, Blaire. One way or the other.” He isn't joking. I can see it in his eyes.
So, because I have a backbone and I'll tell him exactly what I think without fear, he wants me? What a twisted motherfucker.
Hot lips travel back down my body, down my neck, and to the arc of my breasts, making me quiver. He sucks over the curve of my left breast, sucking my flesh into his mouth, and I don't know what happens inside me. I'm throbbing all over with heat, somewhat aroused but still anxious about what he's doing. I'm fighting not to arch into him, using my grip on his shoulders to keep flat against the bed.
He senses how he's making me feel inside, it seems, because his teeth close around my pebbled nipple over the thin cotton material of my bra. He gently kneads it, rolling his jaw from left to right, rolling my nipple in his teeth. The pain is strangely perverse and arousing. It hurts at times but I like it.
I arch into him now. I can't stop myself. I'm losing my fucking mind!
“That's it, bonita Blaire.” His tongue swirls around my nipple, soaking through the material, making my insides roll with sensations. He goes further down my body, leaving a path of fire in his wake. He kisses and caresses me at once, kneading my body with large hands. My breasts first, tweaking my nipples with his fingers until they're standing on end. Then he massages my sides and my hips, having me squirm against the sureness of his hands.
My chest is on fire. It's taking every ounce of my spirit not to groan out, not to express how good that feels.
He's kissing just above my underwear line now, from left to right, over each of my sharp hipbones. My stomach quivers, and again when his hands follow his kisses down my thighs.
Letting go of his shoulders, I claw at the sheets on either side of my waist, thawing under him. I know exactly where he's going. Maksim has told me that men like doing this to women. They like making women come apart using only their mouth. It's a game of power.
When Charlie is crouched between my legs, he spreads me wide open, gripping the insides of my thighs. He leans down and licks over my black cotton underwear, briefly touching my throbbing clit. I writhe against the warmth of his tongue, tightening my ass, trying to cope with the sensations. He then blows on me down there, turning everything cold, and a surge of pleasure zaps through me. I jump in my skin, letting out a small girlish moan, my senses flooding with endorphins.
“I like it when you moan like that,” Charlie rasps out. “It'll forever remind me of when I first kissed you.”
He does it all over again, licks and blows against my underwear, teasing me with pleasure.
I slam my teeth together. My head is getting faint all over again as I struggle with the bitter sweet, agonizing pleasure.
I sense he’s looking up at me from down there, and it’s making the whole ordeal that much more intense. I have no privacy right now.
He hooks a finger into the side of my underwear, and the pressure in the low of my body expands. He strokes an invisible boundary of mine, up and then back down, just touching my sex.
“You've gotta be kidding me,” he says angrily, and I wonder what the hell he's talking about. “Dios mío, you’re waxed?”
The back of his dusty hand tickles my thigh as he strokes up and down my groin some more, savoring the moment. I wriggle about, but I can’t escape what he's making me feel.
He peels my underwear to the side, then silky warmth presses to the most private part of me, my blood swollen bud, and my world blows up. I cannot hold back moaning this time, nor can I stop my toes from curling.
“Smooth, soft, and untouched.” He blows on my flesh, sending tendrils of rapture through me. Then he rips off my underwear with a loud elastic snap, causing the cotton material to burn against my hips.
Nothing is said, and he buries his face between my legs.
“Ohhh!” I squeal, twisting and turning to escape. His mouth is warm and wet and soft. “Oh, God!”
He laughs out puffs of breath, grabbing my hips and pinning me to the bed, his hair brushing my inner thighs. He sucks my folds with his lips, gently and slowly drinking me in. Then kisses me like he did my mouth, full on, lips completely sealed over my sex.
When he’s massaging my clit with his tongue, coaxing something dark within me, I buck forward more than once. I'm almost out of breath. I'm almost out of my mind with sensations.
It goes on and on. Charlie breaking me down. Kissing me, sucking me, and moaning like he's enjoying this more than I am. I'm tensing so hard that I start to shake.
This is too much. All over I am hot and cold at once, my skin swamped with sweat.
“You're pretty down here, too,” he says in a muffed voice, pressing a kiss to my inflamed bud.
My thoughts scatter, drifting away like balls of white light. In the back of my mind there's Maksim, and what he's letting happen to me. The evilness in which he can clear a debt. Then there's this, the epitome of what I now think is pleasure, mindless pleasure that makes everything else in the world seem like a nightmare.
In all my life, I've never felt such provoking sensations.
Another kiss is pressed to my sex, making me quiver, and I don't know why, but I reach out to Charlie. I just can't deal with this. He takes my hand in one of his and holds it against my hip.
“Charlie,” I groan, trying to stop my hips from moving. I'm grinding against his to
ngue as it swirls around my clit, infusing the delight. His face is soaked in my arousal, smooth and wet and adding to everything I'm enduring.
“I know, baby,” he whispers, pecking my bud again. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I sob in a state of desire. I want this. It's like the first kiss all over again but on another level.
I feel him smile against my sex, then he does something that turns me inside out. He closes his lips over my clit and sucks, hard, in time with flicking his tongue against it with endless endeavor.
“Ohhh fucking, God!” I scream out, as my left leg starts trembling, as something in me rushes with heat. I grip his hand with my nails, sure I'm drawing blood. He doesn't care. He strokes my knuckles with his thumb, as if to comfort me.
My veins vibrate with tension, and between my legs, I'm pulsing so hard that I'm sure Charlie can feel it against his tongue.
The ecstasy is never ending, and I cannot move to deal—he won't let me. I squeeze his head between my legs—it's all I can do to not pass out from spiraling—but he doesn't want me to do that. Letting go of my hand, he wraps his arms around and over my hips to grip my inner thighs, and lifts my ass off the bed, practically folding me in half.
“I'm not done with you yet,” he says, gazing down on me through heavy, blazing eyes. “Not by a long shot.” His tongue parts my nether folds as he finds my clit. He makes my body blow a fuse again, manipulating me and kissing me—or, maybe the rush never stopped. I think he's drawing it out somehow, making it go on, and on, and on.
I can't take anymore. Grabbing my face in both hands, my sensory system goes into a state of epidemic as a stronger force hits me, and I scream.
10
As Charlie said, he's not done with me. Not by a long shot.
He carefully puts me back down on the bed and whispers from somewhere above, “You all right, Blaire?”
I'm floating in a cradle of ecstasy, my chest heavy with pants, and a weird buzzing feeling is radiating all over my skin.
