At His Mercy

by S. S. Richards

  “Let go of me!”

  A voice comes from the other side of the corridor—her voice. I stop in my tracks and look at Mikhail, whose eyes are as wide as mine.

  “What’s going on?” asks Aleksandr as he walks toward us, a sandwich in his hand.

  I move faster, following her sweet, angelic voice. My heart thumps in my chest like a drum and hot blood rushes through my veins.

  “Let go of her,” I hiss to the bodyguard whose grip is on Elena’s forearm. He lets go of her instantly.

  “I’m sorry, sir. She was trying to escape.”

  “Liar. I wasn’t trying to escape. I wanted to go outside to the backyard for some fresh air. Or is that not allowed in this household?” she bites out, but her body is trembling in fear and something else. I notice her thighs clenching as she swallows hard.

  “Plus, how am I supposed to escape when your dogs are in every corner, watching and ready to bite?” Her eyes drift quickly to Aleksandr and then to Mikhail, then she hugs herself and lets out a breath in a rush of air.

  “Unlock the door,” I order the bodyguard, my eyes studying her closely. Warning her that if she thinks of escaping, which I know she’ll never succeed in doing with the amount of security I have set up, she will be punished. And she might not like my punishment.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He opens the door and she turns her head furiously toward him.

  “And don’t ever put your dirty hands on me again, do you understand?” she bites out then turns her head toward me and glares at all of us before stepping outside in the cool afternoon. I take a step forward and watch the curve of her hips and her dirty blond hair that looks even lighter in the sun. She’s a work of art. Beautiful and pure.

  “Jesus. She’s feisty,” says Aleksandr as he stands tall and still next to me.

  If I didn’t have a lot of work to do this afternoon, I would have locked both of us upstairs in her room and fucked her till she passes out of pleasure.

  But tonight I will.

  “Keep an eye on her,” I tell the bodyguard as I force my body to walk away from its distraction. The one thing I am unable to control is myself every time I’m around her. She has a magnetic power that pulls me toward her. She’s a fucking addiction. And I hate it just as much as I love it.

  Elena

  “Elena.” Yeva waves at me.

  I squint my eyes and wave back.

  “Hey,” I yell from the backyard and she motions for me to walk over to her.

  I make my way to her, already missing the smooth and chill breeze of the afternoon. I don’t know how long I’ve been walking around in the backyard, but I was able to disconnect for a bit and enjoy the beautiful weather.

  “What’s up?” I ask her as I enter the kitchen.

  “We need to get you dressed. Sir wants to have dinner with you tonight.”

  I cross my arms over my chest.

  “I’m already dressed, Yeva,” I say in a serious tone.

  She shakes her head and sighs deeply. “Go take a shower. A dress has already been chosen for you. He wants you to look good and sexy.” She lowers her voice, almost whispering into my ear. “Lucky you.”

  “Yeva! Lucky me? Are you serious right now?” I don’t realize how loud my voice is until she presses a finger to her lips.

  “Shhhh.” She grabs my forearm and pulls me toward the stairs.

  We walk up the stairs in silence until we are both in the room.

  “I don’t want to dress up for him. I’m going like this.” I sit on the bed and look away. I know I’m acting like a stubborn child right now, but I refuse to dress nicely for him. I don’t even want to have dinner with him in the first place, let alone dress up.

  Yeva walks over to the bed and sits beside me. She takes my hand and squeezes a little.

  “Elena, I know this is hard for you. I can only imagine being locked up in a house full of strangers. But sir is really not that horrible. He saved me and my family by offering me a job. Believe me when I say he’s a good man.”

  “He may be nice to everyone expect for me. He hates me, Yeva. I’m the niece of his biggest enemy. He doesn’t wanna let me go.”

  “I don’t think he hates you. My advice for you is just do as he says and stop fighting him. Maybe he’ll let you go then. But please, we have about forty minutes to get you ready. Go take a shower. I’ll be here.”

  She gets up and begins to go through the makeup brushes sitting on top of the vanity. I want to tell her that I’ll fight till the end of time until he gives me my freedom whether he likes it or not. I want to tell her I won’t have dinner with him and that I’ll remain in this room. I don’t care if he beats me up or deprives me of food. But Yeva is just doing her job. And who knows if he will punish her as well if I don’t do as he says. So I get up and head over to the bathroom and take a hot shower.

  The bruises from his whipping are still sore and as the water washes over my body, I’m reminded of his horrible actions. It doesn’t matter that raw desire courses through every fiber in my body every time he touches me, or the indescribable feeling I get every time his giant cock stretches my folds. None of that matters because all Maksim Pavlov will ever be is a monster.

  I don’t recognize myself as I stand in front of the mirror. My hair is pinned up in a giant bun and the red on my lips makes them look pouty and fresh. I’m dressed in a white minidress and I seriously don’t even know who I am anymore. I haven’t dressed up in so long that I had to practice how to walk in heels.

  “God, you are stunning, Elena,” says Yeva enthusiastically.

  I smile at her reflection in the mirror and take a shuddering breath.

  “It’s time to go downstairs.”

  I nod slightly and make my way to the door. Why do I always get extremely nervous before seeing him? And why am I secretly hoping he would love the way I look? I’m disgusted by my own damn self.

  We stop in front of two big wooden doors.

  “He’s already in there waiting for you,” she says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I watch as she walks away and disappears into the hallway and I suddenly feel lonely and scared. I place a shaky palm on the doorknob and take a deep breath in.

  I then open the door.

  My eyes fly open as I gaze at the beautiful dining room but most importantly, the man sitting at the head of the long table. For a few seconds, we both stare at each other and the air thickens around us. I can’t look away or speak as I gaze at him with my heart in my mouth. I feel so small and helpless. He’s always had the ability to paralyze me purely by his undeniable presence. His eyes sparkle as he devours every single inch of my body, from head to toe. His lips part, but instead of his usual scowl, he gazes at me almost in disbelief. And my whole body tingles with electricity.

  “Have a seat.” He motions toward the seat beside him. I remain silent as I make my way to the table. I take a seat next to him, keeping my eyes pinned on the empty plate in front of me, ignoring his intimidating gaze.

  For a moment, a stunned silence prevails.

  “What did you do today?” he asks, grabbing the whiskey glass in his hand and drinking the liquid while staring at me through the rim of his glass.

  I look into his eyes and smile before saying mockingly, “There’s nothing much to do when I’m locked up in a big, lonely house without my consent.”

  He cocks a brow and the familiar fire fills his gray eyes.

  “Big, lonely house? With all the staff and the people I didn’t prevent you from talking to?”

  My mouth suddenly feels like it’s full of dust as annoyance rises within me. I swallow hard and look him in the eyes intently.

  “I’ll always feel lonely as long as I’m in this house.”

  His nostrils flare and his laser sharp eyes stare at me coldly.

  “What’s the purpose behind me dressing up for this dinner?” I ask, deep curiosity mingled with fear both making my voice sound quivery.

  “Because I felt li
ke it.” His retort is cold and clipped.

  Every self-preservation instinct in me kicks back.

  I bite my tongue in order to prevent myself from lashing out. I don’t even know the reason behind my sudden rush of anger. I feel so vulnerable and exposed. My panties are drenched and my thighs are dripping. I want to get out of this room, but I also want him to fuck me like he did the night before. Oh God, what is wrong with me? And somehow, fighting him only happens to expose my vulnerability and the undeniable need to have him pounding inside of me even more. Every time I see him, I crave him with a clawing need. The burning intensity of my craving scares the crap out of me. I don’t seem to be capable of taming the desire. It becomes worse and worse every fucking day.

  Alyona walks into the room, holding our plates in her hands and with a look of curiosity, she places them in front of us and rushes toward the door.

  The raw power of his energy surrounds me, making my skin flush as his eyes study me keenly. I drop my gaze and swallow thickly.

  “I’m not hungry,” I blurt out.

  “Eat. I might have a surprise for you later.”

  “I don’t want to eat and I don’t want a fucking surprise.” My breath comes out in a hiss.

  He drops his fork violently on the table and fists his hands until his knuckles become white. I try not to flinch as I stare at him with wide, big eyes. I curse my body silently as it betrays me again like it always does.

  “When are you going to understand that fighting me will get you no fucking where?” he hisses through clenched teeth and rises from his chair. He leans in, taking a step closer, and I stop breathing. I watch as his hand rises up. He then runs a finger down my throat.

  “Unless you do it so I would fuck you harder like you’re mine to destroy,” he murmurs as his thumb softly caresses my pulsating skin. I cease to exist every time his skin comes in contact with mine. And without realizing it, my eyes shut and I gasp for air. A warm gush of excitement spreads through my veins. I want more. I need him inside of me.

  My eyes snap open with shock at the realization of what I’m doing. Every time he touches me I fall into a daze. His warm fingers travel down to my cleavage. My eyes remain glued to him as I try to control my breathing.

  “I hate you.” I say the words breathlessly as his hand travels in between my thighs. His fingers brush against the lace material of my soaked panties. He smiles mockingly at his discovery and shame corrodes my insides.

  “It doesn’t look like you hate what I do to you,” he murmurs against my mouth right before claiming it. His mouth devours my lips like he’s trying to suck my soul out through my mouth. He then begins to play with my clit and that’s when I completely lose it. I throw my head back, biting my lower lip painfully and spreading my legs even wider for him. I moan louder with pleasure at the exquisite sensation of his fingers stroking my pussy. Suddenly, he thrusts three fingers inside of me. The deliberate cruelty sends a jolt of sensation from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet.

  “I’m going to fuck you until you forget your past and any man who’s ever tried to pleasure you. You are mine and I will use you when, where, and how I decide.”

  He picks me up and puts me on top of the table. His eyes never leave mine as he pulls up my dress and slides my panties down my legs. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as he watches me closely, like he doesn’t want to miss any change of expression on my face.

  “And to answer your yesterday’s question . . .” He unzips his pants and his cock springs out proudly. A shiver runs down my spine.

  “While I’m alive, you’ll never have another man in your body, ever.”

  Without giving me any warning, he slams himself deep inside of me. His entry makes a squelching sound because of my wetness. I curse myself to hell as I hug the nape of his neck. Inviting him in. Each stroke is harder than the one before.

  “Do you like how I’m fucking you?”

  I look deep into his eyes. There’s no way for me to hold in my pleasure anymore. His eyes see through me. He knows I love what he does to me, how he makes me feel, and the undefinable chemistry between us.

  “Yes,” I cry out and the strokes become rougher. My hair is no longer pinned in a bun. And I know my lipstick is all smudged up because he has some on his lips too. He roars like a beast as he spills his seed deep inside of me. Our eyes meet as our orgasms finish together. We remain staring at each other in silence. Our heavy breathing fills the quiet room. The air becomes thick with words unsaid.

  He slides out of me and instantly starts zipping his pants up. I slide my panties up my thighs, burning with humiliation and shame. This is the first time I let him discover how much my body responds to him. The first time I don’t fight as hard as I usually do. I take a quick look at the other side of the table. The food must be cold by now and the only hunger that’s consuming me is to have him inside of me again. I have officially lost myself and somehow, somewhere deep down inside, I don’t want to find myself anymore.

  The door swings open suddenly, startling me. I look over at Maksim, annoyance on his face.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I have your gift,” says Mikhail, an evil grin dancing on his lips.

  “We’ll be right there.”

  “We’ll be there?” I frown.

  “Your surprise is here,” he says calmly, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. His touch lingers long after he moves his hand away. I take two steps backward, staying away from the heat that’s radiating from his body as much as I can. He extends his hand out to me. My eyes drift from his gorgeous grays to his big hand.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks.

  Our eyes lock for a moment. Words don’t come out. Because as much as I hate admitting it to myself, he’s the only person I’ve ever trusted blindly, despite everything he’s done to me. I swallow thickly and allow my body to take over rather than my mind. I place my shaky hand in his, allowing my body to convey to him the things my mouth simply refuses to.

  Maksim

  My heart hammers in my chest as she places her hand in mine, so beautiful like lightning wrenching through the dark, night sky. We make our way to the back garage, the only place where we take intruders and people who are likely to get hurt. I can feel her hand trembling in mine. I tighten the grip and take one last look at her before opening the door. Her eyes snake around. She’s skittish, ready to run away. Only I have the power to undo the painted mask she shows everybody, including me. Behind her stubbornness, there’s indeed a strong yet innocent woman who despite asking for death on several occasions, still manages to hold onto dear life with everything she has.

  I open the door and bring her inside. I glare at the idiot tied to the chair. His face is bloody and he’s wailing in pain. She pulls her hand away from mine quickly and begins to breathe heavily as she struggles to open the door where we both came from.

  I grab her forearm and with my other hand, I lift her chin up until her eyes are looking deeply into mine.

  “Stay,” I command and she yanks her arm away.

  “I don’t want to be here. What’s going on? What’s Roberto doing here?” she breathes the words out. Her whole body shakes. It only makes my blood boil to watch her, standing scared and helpless. Whatever this idiot did to her only makes me wanna torture him even more than my men had already done.

  “Elena, please tell them to stop this.” The idiot begs for mercy.

  She’s standing still, unmoving. Her eyes are wide and her lips are slightly parted. Her chest rises and falls quickly as she stares at the helpless asshole in front of her.

  I take a step forward, slowly removing my watch from my wrist and sliding it in my pocket. I then begin to roll up my sleeves while watching the asshole attentively. His breathing is heavy and his eyes beg for me to pity him.

  “Please don’t hurt me. I’m begging you, please!” he cries and wails powerlessly—the oldest trick in the book. I don’t give him any warning before punching him in the nose. With rage flowing through
me like lava, I don’t stop. I keep punching him in the face over and over again until more blood drains from his worthless face. One strong kick in the chest and he falls to the ground.

  I lean closer, bringing my face closer to his.

  “What did you do to deserve all this?” I demand furiously, ready for another punch if he doesn’t open his mouth to speak. Because I’m not going to ask twice.

  “I work for Leonardo,” he replies breathlessly. I punch him one more time, this time in the gut and he shrieks in pain.

  “Wrong fucking answer. Should we ask Elena to answer for you?”

  I pull the gun from my belt and point it to his knee. With no warning, I pull the trigger and the bullet strikes his left knee. Mikhail and my men stare at me, waiting for me to allow them to finish him. But he’s mine. I want to be the one to end his useless life.

  “Elena . . . I raped Elena!” he howls harder than before, blood gushing out of his face and his knee. But I’m not done with him yet. I take a quick look at Elena, who hasn’t moved yet. Her face expressions are still the same.

  “Anything you want to tell Elena?” I ask with a cocked brow and a smirk on my face. I’m enjoying this way more than I thought I would.

  “I’m sorry.” He manages to let out the words, his voice garbled and pathetic.

  I pull the trigger again mercilessly. This time the bullet enters his right knee. If I was to leave him here he would die of blood loss sooner than later. But I’m not gonna give him more time. He doesn’t deserve it.

  I walk over to Elena and run a finger along the wet and smooth skin of her left cheek. Tears haven’t stopped streaming down her cheeks, but there’s a new expression in her eyes. She stares at the dying man with so much hatred, it’s portrayed as clear as day on her beautiful, pale face. A brand-new fire blazes in her eyes. I know that look. A sly smirk dances on my lips as I get even closer to her.