I close my eyes and decide to pretend I’m asleep. Maybe he’ll let me be then.
The door opens with a simple click. Fear lodges in my throat when his footsteps get closer to the bed and he stands still over me.
I sense the power and the sheer strength radiating from him and filling the air around us.
Suddenly, his breathing gets more pronounced as I feel his fingers running softly through my hair. I struggle to remain calm and collected as his touch awakens every single sensation in my body.
“I know you’re not sleeping. Get up.” His voice is cold and unforgiving.
The room drops in temperature as I open my eyes widely and sit up. There’s barely any light in the room besides the one coming from the tiny window in the wall. But I can see his eyes. They are bright and blazing with fire. He stares deep into my eyes and I battle so many thoughts and questions that don’t even make sense. Like what is the reason behind the mixture of lust and fire that flickers in his eyes? And why is my body responding to him the way it is? It’s craving to connect to his. Everything about him screams power and ruthlessness. And the more I gaze at him, the more my body tingles with mixed emotions. I don’t know if it’s fear or desire or anger or something completely different from anything I have ever felt before.
He swallows thickly and finally breaks the silence.
“Undress and spread your legs wide for me.”
The desire suddenly gets replaced with anger and I stare blankly into his eyes. Unmoving. I refuse to obey this sick fucking bastard, whose dick is as hard as a rock as he towers over me. This shit turns him on.
Fucking sick bastard.
“I’d rather die than spread my legs for a monster like you.” I snarl.
His eyes flash with irritation and he raises an arm in the air to strike me. The instinct to cover my face and curl into a ball fills me, but I fight it.
“Hit me. Do it. That’s all you’ve been doing to me ever since you’ve kidnapped me.”
He opens his mouth to say something then he shuts it. He drops his arm and balls his fist for a moment. He remains still as our eyes stay locked to each other. Then he reaches to my gown and rips it in half, undressing me in a cruel, raw way that sends a wave of ecstasy running through my entire body.
How can I detest him so much yet my body craves his touch and his dominance just like it craves and needs water?
I bring the palm of my hands to his chest and push him as hard as I can, but he remains unmoving. He’s much stronger than me, and something deep inside of me knows I won’t win the fight. But it’s worth trying. It’s worth proving to my body that it’s wrong to crave a man like him.
A second later, he crawls on top of me, rubbing his hardness against my overheated flesh.
“Get off me, you asshole.” I howl and push him one last time before he holds both of my wrists up and buries his face in my neck. He then brings his mouth closer to my ear and bites my earlobe.
“Stop fucking fighting me if you want to survive this,” he whispers in my ear and brings his hand down to my pussy. He rubs my clit and my whole body jerks against the bed. My body is responding strongly to his touch. And I hate it.
He then stops for a moment and looks into my eyes.
“You’re fucking wet. You’re enjoying this.”
The fire in his eyes blazes even stronger. He frowns and narrows his eyes at me. I know I surprised him. But I gather enough strength for a comeback.
“Don’t fool yourself, Maksim. My body is confused about whatever’s happening. Now get off me.”
I kick and scream, but he begins to rub my clit even harder than before, the movement making fireworks sparkle to life. I throw my head back and close my eyes. A quick gasp escapes my mouth and I bite my lips to stop myself from moaning and screaming with pleasure.
He withdraws his soaking fingers from my pussy and pulls me into a sitting position. He begins to unzip his pants. The aftershocks of my orgasm ripple through my whole body as I pant helplessly.
His cock springs out, massive and swollen right before my eyes. Tears threaten to come out. They burn the back of my throat and I shake my head.
“I don’t want to,” I say in a low, quivering voice. His eyes gleam with something devilish—excitement and something else I can’t wrap my head over.
“Open your fucking mouth and suck. And I dare you to bite me. I swear I will hit you so hard you’ll fall into a fucking coma.” His voice is stern and it makes me flinch. I stare at his hardness and shake my head again. The reality hits me—I am not winning. I will never win with this man.
He brings the tip of his cock to my mouth. It’s hot and pre-cum leaks from it. I tilt my head away and he grips my chin and turns my head toward his erection. He keeps me in place and forces the tip of his cock between my lips.
I open my mouth slightly, my lips trembling.
Angrily, he shoves his cock roughly into my mouth. I don’t do anything as I hold him inside my heated mouth and feel betrayed by my own self. I let him win. I stop fighting. Nothing feels right.
He fists my hair and begins to thrust inside of my mouth. Harsher, faster, and deeper until I start gagging and struggling with his size. But he never stops. He keeps plunging deep inside of me and I just take it all.
I become calm and obedient. My body feels numb as I give in to submission.
He grips my hair tightly and explodes down my throat. I am nothing but a repository for his sperm. I close my eyes as tears start seeping down my cheeks. He slides out easily and grips my chin harshly.
“Open and show me,” he orders and I obey.
“Now swallow it all.” He instructs and I do as he says. I close my mouth and swallow.
With his eyes pinned on me, he frowns and lets go of my chin. Did my obedience and submission not satisfy him?
He takes a step back and begins to zip his pants up. I drop my eyes and think about the many times I was raped in the past by Roberto. Why didn’t those times matter as much as this one? I barely fought Roberto in the past. Because every time he came in to my room to fuck me he would only last seconds. My mind was always in my safety net, dreaming of all the beautiful things in the world I had yet to live.
But now it feels like everything is gone. I’m completely at this man’s mercy. And I tried to fight him, on several occasions, but it goes nowhere. It always ends with me feeling numb and completely shattered.
If humiliating me is all he wanted, then he succeeded.
“Stand up,” he commands and I obey. Like the good girl I am.
He takes a couple of steps toward me and grabs the nape of my neck. He drags my face closer to his and breathes into my mouth.
“What are you?” he asks hoarsely.
“I’m yours.”
He licks his lips and stares into my eyes with a sparkling gaze.
“You’ve switched off,” he whispers, running a warm thumb on my lower lip.
What does he mean? I remain silent and wait for him to do whatever he wants with me. I’m his. Isn’t that what he wanted?
He grabs me by the waist and pushes me against the wall behind me. The tile on the wall digs harshly into my bones, but I don’t feel pain. My body is still numb and I don’t feel anything at all.
“I will fuck your mouth and your little pussy until I get tired of you. Put this in your head. There’s no escape. When I tell you to do something, you must do it instantly. You are not to challenge me in any way possible. Do you understand or do you want me to make you understand?”
There’s no escape.
His words echo in my head and he goes on talking, but I stop hearing him. His voice sounds far, far away. I can’t make out the words and I don’t want to. I close my eyes as I keep hearing his voice through a haze.
His hand grips my throat, but it doesn’t hurt me like it usually does. What is he even doing? I don’t know and I don’t want to know.
A loud scream rises up from deep inside of me. A mixture of anger, bitter
ness, and sadness all at once. I kick him and attack him, and he covers his face with his own hands and takes a step backward.
“You fucking asshole.” I yell at the top of my lungs and fall to the ground. He yanks me up and places me on top of the bed.
I expect him to beat me up, hurt me, or even kill me for lashing out at him. But for the first time ever, he doesn’t.
He drapes the covers over my body gently and I bring my knees to my chest and curl into a ball. The tears don’t relent.
For a moment, he stands still, completely silent and watches me sob like a little child. He reaches for my hair and gently caresses it. His calmness confuses the hell out of me. I want to push his hand away from me, but I know I will miss his touch once he’s gone.
What’s wrong with me?
I close my eyes as exhaustion takes over my body. His gentle touch brings peace in the room and the temperature goes from cold to warm in a matter of seconds.
He stops caressing my hair and his footsteps sound farther away as he reaches for the door. I keep my eyes closed as a feeling of longing fills my chest.
“Don’t ever switch off on me again, rybka,” he says softly in his deep accented voice right before opening the door and closing it slowly behind him.
Only a matter of seconds after he leaves, exhaustion takes over my body again and I drift off into a restless slumber.
Elena
As soon as I step out of the shower, I hear a noise in the other room. I wrap myself up in the towel as fast as I can and hurry toward the room in order to see who’s there. I find Yeva standing in the middle of the room, but she doesn’t have a new tray of food for me. I have gotten used to her stopping by every morning and bringing me fresh food.
“Morning, Yeva.” I step into the room without realizing I’m frowning.
“Good morning, Elena. I brought you some new clothes.” She points at the bed where a pile of folded clothes awaits. But I still don’t understand why she didn’t bring me food this time. Not that I’m hungry anyway, but I’m curious to find out if I’m being punished for yesterday’s tantrum.
I nod slightly and wait for her to say whatever she has to say. She looks nervous and excited at the same time. But it’s only making the pit of my stomach fall as I wait for her to drop the bomb. To tell me how many days I’m going to stay without food.
“I didn’t bring you food because sir ordered that you come and spend a day with us in the mansion instead of staying in your room.”
I swallow thickly and stare at her in astonishment. Is she lying to me? Am I dreaming or did I just hear her say that I’m finally allowed to get out of this room?
“Wh-What?” I ask, my voice incredulous.
She takes a step forward and grins widely at me.
“You can come and spend the day with us in the mansion. Didn’t you wanna help me and the others out with the housework? Today’s your chance.” She beams. “I haven’t had my breakfast yet. You wanna come to the kitchen and have it with me?” she continues, but my eyes remain pinned on her and my lips don’t seem to wanna close anymore. What kind of punishment is this? Is he tricking me? I don’t know and I somehow don’t want to know. This is a chance I cannot miss.
“Are you sure? Okay, um . . . Can you wait for me, please? I’ll get dressed quickly.” I stumble over my words as a wave of excitement rushes through my whole body. I shouldn’t get too excited for I know there’s probably something behind him giving me my freedom—even if it’s for one day.
“Of course. I’ll wait for you outside.” She heads toward the door.
“Wait, Yeva.”
She faces me. The smile doesn’t fade away from her lips as she nods, eagerly waiting for me to continue.
I swallow hard and smile softly at her. I try my best to hide the anxiety and eagerness that’s filling me from within.
“What does rybka mean?”
“It means little fish. It’s an endearment in Russian.”
She smiles politely and exits the room.
I ignore her explanation and begin to dress up quickly. A pair of leggings and a light pink shirt would do. My mind shouldn’t be obsessing over the fact he called me little fish. Nobody has ever called me anything sweet like that besides my parents when I was a kid. Once my uncle took custody of me, all I’ve been called is slut, whore, and bitch. I got used to those words and to the constant reminder from my uncle that I was a lost cause and a waste of energy.
I open the door with a trembling hand and find Yeva waiting for me in the long, dim hallway. The door was never locked, but in the past days, every time I tried to get out and discover what’s inside the other rooms I felt an evil, dark energy filling the atmosphere, making me crawl back in my room and wishing the door were locked. I don’t know what’s in the other rooms and part of me is scared to know.
We make our way to the main door of the west wing. The unbearable silence of the hallway thickens with the weird vibe, making my body tremble as anxiety swirls around me. She unlocks the main door and my jaw drops as I stare at the big, wide windows surrounding the whole house. The sun shines through them and fresh energy fills me from within. I feel weightless as she guides me down the long stairs. I grip the banister tightly as a rush of dizziness hits me. I realize I haven’t seen the sun in so long that I’ve become sensitive to the light. I spent most of my life locked up in a dark room like a vampire. Hope flutters inside of me as I think of the freedom I am yet to claim. I hold my chin high as we walk by plenty of bodyguards standing in every corner of the house.
“Mr. Jones, how are you?”
Yeva smiles at an old tall man, probably in his fifties. As soon as our eyes meet, his smile slips a notch and he gives me a serious look. I swallow hard as I stand still beside Yeva and stare at the man.
“This is Elena Romano and this is Mr. Jones. He runs our errands and drives us wherever we wanna go.”
She introduces us to each other, but this man’s gaze doesn’t soften.
“I know who she is,” he says with an annoyed tone of voice. His piercing eyes drift over to Yeva’s and that’s when they soften. Whatever this man knows about me doesn’t look good at all.
“Mr. Jones, be nice,” she tells him softly right before grabbing my arm and pulling me into the kitchen.
“Come, I want you to meet other people.”
We enter the kitchen and the smell of freshly cooked food fills my nostrils. My stomach rumbles, alerting me that I’m indeed hungry.
“Elena, this is Alyona. Our chef. She makes the best food you’ll ever taste. Especially Russian food.”
The woman stares at me the same way Mr. Jones did. These people detest my guts and I have no idea why. I’m the one who’s been kidnapped by their monster of a boss. Shouldn’t they be feeling sorry for me?
“Nice meeting you,” the woman blurts out right before turning around and getting the chicken out of the oven. I don’t say anything back, but by the look Yeva has on her face, I can tell she knows what I’m thinking. She purses her lips and brings me to a corner in the kitchen where a small table with two chairs is.
“Tea or coffee?” she asks.
“Why are they looking at me that way? What did I do?” I ask in a low voice.
She looks around in order to make sure no one’s listening then turns her attention back to me.
“You’re a Romano. That’s why.”
My annoyance flares within a matter of seconds at her words and I certainly don’t hold myself back.
“I was kidnapped and locked away by their monster of a boss Maksim or whatever his shit name is, and they’re angry at me for being a Romano?” I hiss through gritted teeth and I don’t realize my tone has been snappy and loud until Alyona peers at me with her big green eyes.
“Shh, lower your voice. Sir is not a monster. Don’t say that.”
My eyes widen with astonishment. The way these people are able to defend a sick fuck like him is beyond me. He must have them all under his spell. Yeva walk
s away and begins to pour us tea as she stands next to Alyona. I take a seat at one of the chairs and look through the window on the wall to my right. My thoughts bring me back to yesterday, to the random gentleness he showed me and that I had no idea he was even capable of. What was that all about? Did he feel sorry for me and decided to give me freedom today? Whatever it is I shouldn’t let it slip away. I’ll talk to him later and ask him to not put me in the west wing anymore. I can use this to my advantage and begin to plan my escape and my revenge toward everyone who ever did me wrong in the past. Including Maksim.
Yeva brings the tea to the table and we drink it in complete silence. I like her a lot. She’s the only person who’s nice and friendly in this household. By the time we finish, she leads me to the big library room in the house and tells me to organize the books and make sure everything is clean and tidy. I smile as excitement rushes through me. This is the first time in so long that I’m given a task to complete.
I stand still for a while and admire the beautiful room with its big, tall bookshelves. The old smell of books fills the air as I gaze at the Gothic architecture of the room. The walls are lavishly ornamented with decorations. It was probably built ages ago. And I’m pretty sure I would find plenty of first editions in here. Fresh energy fills me from within. Standing in a library like this one is like a dream come true. I never want to leave this room. And I know for a fact that once I’m done cleaning, I will go see him and make him a proposition, one that might be the first step to my freedom.
Maksim
Aleksandr punches me right in the stomach and a wave of nausea hits me. The motherfucker always goes for the gut where all the food and alcohol live. I suck in a breath and punch him right in the jaw. He winces in pain and takes a step backward.
“You like that, don’t you?” I ask him, panting as I rub my stomach.
He doesn’t give me time to duck before he slaps me right in the cheek. I scowl at him for a moment as I rub my stinging flesh. His movement is girly and it makes both of us laugh.
At His Mercy Page 4
