by Nora Flite
Paying someone to pick up the vehicle once I'd located it, then chop it up in a shop, might have been trouble. Except, my father had laid the groundwork for this operation years ago. I had contacts, and they were always pleased to answer my calls and take my money.
Everyone loved money.
I strolled the rows of machines, tables and crowds. It was easy to pretend I wasn't looking for a target. Approaching a game of blackjack, I spotted what I was after.
She was a small thing, white dress making her look innocent and frail. That was important; the girls had to give off an aura of nervousness. Confident women weren't lacking in life. They needed to lack. Otherwise, what could I offer them?
Celeste had been a ball of pure nerves when I'd seen her.
Stop thinking about her.
Breathing through my nose, I buried myself in the cold calculation of business. This was work, this was what I did. Finding broken girls and making them whole, it was everything I believed in. Down to my guts, I was sure it was right—it had always been right.
Her blue eyes, flush with tears, filled my head.
Stop it. Stop letting her get to you.
Moving to a chair, I settled down; fixed on the young woman. She was blonde, too—No. Celeste isn't blonde—fuck! Quit this or you'll never get this done. Raising my blackened irises, I deliberately stared the girl down. Her reaction was obvious. She stood taller, looked side to side.
The edge of my smirk went high. Nodding towards a waitress, I waved my hand to get her closer. “Could you bring me a scotch, and that lovely girl over there a gin and tonic?” Before she answered, I slipped her a fifty.
I watched the scene unfold. It followed the same path it always did; the drinks came, the blonde sipped her glass, and within five minutes she was standing by my side. She looked the same age as Celeste, twenties or a hint older. Celeste certainly had more pristine, pale skin—and figure wise, the woman I had back in Estonia was curvier in the right spots.
If I had to compare them, I'd...
“What was that?” I asked, seeing the stranger staring at me dubiously.
“Your name. I just wanted to know who you were. I'm Alice.” She fluffed her curly strands.
Even her voice lacks the same energy. I didn't know what was happening. I'd grown so smooth in how I flirted. Years of practice had made it no challenge to convince a beautiful girl to have a drink, to follow me to my room.
So why was I hesitating?
Alice—she had said Alice, I was sure—titled her head. “Hello? Are you listening to me?”
I stood, left my drink untouched. “No. I'm not.” There was a cold fire in my mouth. She stared after me, confusion and disgust radiating. I had plenty of disgust at myself for us both.
I'm a god damn fool. How pathetic was I? Unable to do what I'd come here for. She's in my memory, my blood and my oxygen. Celeste was a phantom that haunted me even now.
The point of coming here... wasn't it for her? In a way, it had been. If I could steal away with another girl, a real blonde, blue eyed American for Vitaly... perhaps he would take her over Celeste.
I can't tell what I want anymore.
No. That was a terrible lie.
What I craved was thousands of miles back in Estonia.
My shoes carried me to Caesar's Palace. I tried to avoid repeating my hunting grounds so soon. But tonight, I didn't care. I wandered the casino, stared pointedly at the place I'd spotted Celeste the first time.
The memory of her, so anxious at my advances, set my heart throbbing. She'd run from me, and that had wet my appetite. It had taken a whole drink before she dared to wander my way. Bashful, awkward in her flirting. Celeste had the sparkle of lust in her by the time I had her by the elbow.
Too fast, I thought of something else. The day she'd burst from my home, ripped her arm open in her hurry to escape me. No. She said she wasn't running from me. She'd been a mess, and I'd carried her through the rain, deposited her on my expensive couch where she soaked mud and crimson into the leather.
I hadn't cared.
Pressing fingers to my forehead, I closed my eyes tight. It wasn't pleasant, the memory of that day. I'd been a ball of elastics, pacing as Dr. Helen fixed her up. I'd been a wreck over Celeste's health, and now, I was disturbed by how I'd behaved. I stayed at her side while she slept. My fingers flexed by my hip. And she squeezed my hand for comfort.
Celeste had turned me into a quivering, pathetic man.
There had only been one other woman I'd worked myself into such a frenzy of worry over. One other person I'd sat beside while she wasted away, not willing to keep living.
But what had happened to my mother wasn't my fault.
What had happened to Celeste was.
Don't think about her. Either of them. Just—fuck! Gritting my teeth, I stalked through the casino. I had no plan. I'd never been without a plan.
I want to keep her. That was what it had come down to. Celeste had carved herself onto my soul, and for better or for worse, I didn't see a way to remove her. The way she kissed, squirmed under me, the girl was made for corrupting.
Who better to give her that gift than me?
And I've signed her off to Vitaly. I'd told Celeste there was no way out of my contract. I'd agreed, as my father had agreed, to the terms of sale since decades ago. But would it hurt to try and offer him something else?
Clutching my phone, I hurried back to my room.
It was not a phone call I was excited to make.
But it had to happen.
I had to try.
The ringing choked to a halt. “Hello, Mr. Vetrov.”
“Vitaly. I hope you're well.”
“That depends on why you're calling me during my breakfast.” The timezone difference between Vegas and Russia wasn't ideal.
Like a caged animal, I paced my room. “I'll be blunt. There's a bit of an issue with your fiance.”
Vitaly paused on the line. “An issue.”
“I'm afraid the girl isn't fit for you. She's... well. Proud.”
“You couldn't break her.” It was a crisp—if accurate—observation. “The great Leonide Vetrov, unable to domesticate a simple American girl.”
Seething with anger, I held my tone evenly. “I can't claim otherwise.”
“And so why are you calling me about this?”
“I've never had to offer this before.” I thumbed my tie, felt the silky material over and over. “But I can't hand off a girl who won't meet your needs. I'll give you a full refund, Vitaly. Every tiny fraction, it's yours.”
The line crackled with the sudden burst of laughter. “You're joking! Leonide, why would I ever want my money back? I don't need money. I need the wife I've been waiting for.”
Brittle desperation flooded my throat. “Another girl, then. I can get you a more fitting girl, another blonde American. Vitaly, let me—”
“I don't think you heard me.” He cut me off, a low rumble of a quiet threat. “First, you try to hand the girl off to me early.”
That day curdled my stomach. Celeste, the temptress who made me question myself. After watching Marat with her, feeling the claws of envy grow inside, I struggled when I was near her. Each second was agony; I'd drunk myself into a stupor that evening just to force her from my thoughts.
And it hadn't worked.
The shame of stumbling on her, inebriated and a mess, had made me want nothing more than to raise a wall. And then, when I'd tried to return to her training, aware of the tight time line... The moment she'd wrapped her lips on my cock, looked me in the eye, I'd wished her gone from my life.
It was the only way to be free of the longing.
“Then,” he went on, cutting my thoughts in twain, “you try to buy back my future wife. Now, you offer a bait and switch. I've been waiting for this girl, Leonide. Do you know what I wait for? Nothing.”
My mouth was contorting as I fumed. It was good he couldn't see me. “Then you won't accept a refund, or a new girl. Is that w
hat you're saying?”
“Even if my future wife isn't domesticated, I refuse to trade her for something—or someone—else. If you're right, and she isn't ready, I'll be unimpressed by your results.” He sighed, but it lacked anything genuine. “It only means she'll learn to behave under my own tutelage. Such is life. I'll see you in four days, Leonide.”
The call turned into white noise. Without a thought, I threw the phone at the bed; it vanished in the pillows, saved from shattering.
Collapsing to sit on the mattress, I held my head in my hands.
Four days.
I only had four days, now.
One of those would be lost to travel.
In that Vegas hotel, I felt my demons strangling my heart and my head. I wasn't the type to be denied things. I also wasn't the type to want something I knew shouldn't be mine.
But I wanted Celeste.
Vitaly did as well.
In such a battle, who could really win?
Whatever happens from here... the results will change everything for me.
I drove back to my private jet that night. I'd never returned empty handed from a trip. The large suitcase, perfectly barren of a new prize to trade, was heavy as a gravestone.
- Chapter Fourteen -
Celeste
I'd never spent so much time in a bathroom.
It could have been funny. Maybe someone up above me was laughing at my plight. I, however, was busy fretting about what was going on outside my walls.
He's been gone for close to two days. I felt stuck in a cycle, shifting between being forced to see Leonide and then being denied his company. What had he left to go do? When the various women came to bring me meals, they never answered my questions. Avoiding my eyes, they set down my food on paper plates and fled.
It was funny how they gave me no utensils, nothing sharp. If I had wanted to harm myself, I could have drowned in the bathtub. I could have smashed the mirror, threatened them with one of the razors Leonide left lying around in his cabinets.
I was done with such ideas.
If there was a chance I could shape my future to be with Leonide—no matter how unlikely or fucked up my wish was—I wasn't about to risk dying just yet.
It was the scissors that tempted me the most.
The shears had been in his bottom sink cupboard. They gleamed, begged me to slice the leash and free myself.
But I couldn’t.
Any chance to coerce Leonide to let me stay would be wasted if I betrayed him again. Ignoring the tools, I sat on the tile and counted the minutes. I categorized every crack in the ceiling, decided what animals they looked like. I just needed to keep my mind distracted as best as I could.
With my ear to the floor, the echoes of the house shifting through the pipes, the loud crash was conspicuous. I sat up so fast my head swam. Is that the front door? On my feet, kicking aside the paper plates, I moved to the doorway.
He swept inside, hair frazzled and eyes smoldering. For a second we stared at each other; my mouth was open, his was a vault.
“Leon—” I never finished. That kiss covered my lips, fingers in my hair, on my throat, exploring me like he'd been gone for months. For every brush of his mouth, there was a malicious clamp of fangs. With stars in my brain, I didn't know how much of this was punishment and how much was a reward.
Did Leonide even know?
Clasping my temples, he forced me away. He breathed as if he'd run for miles. “Did you know you were doing it?” Rage soared in his vision.
“I—doing what?” What now, what's happened now?
His teeth bared. “Breaking me, changing who I was!” Staring blankly, I looked for reasoning in his wild face. He never let me answer, shoved me against the bathroom wall. “You've ruined me, Celeste. I'm ruined. Everything you did—made me fucking feel—I can't do it anymore.”
Leaning away, I lifted my hands to protect myself. “I didn't... what can't you do anymore?”
Seeking my forehead with his, I felt how he was boiling. “The only thing I knew how to do. Seduce women, save them and transform them. I can't... I couldn't.” We were so close, I saw the hairs on his jaw. “Because of you.” He spit the words out like rotten seeds.
It was effort, but I looked him in the eye. “Where the hell did you go?”
He breathed out; the air hit my cheek. “Vegas.”
Vegas. “You went to find another girl.” God, my heart was choking. “Why? Why would you do that?” To replace me, he said he didn't want me. Didn't want ME. I...
Shit. He was kissing me again, close to drawing blood with his roughness. Over the rasp of my own panting, I read his lips and watched him speak. “So I could keep you.”
Leonide wants me. My legs felt so far away. He actually wants me. The rolling knot of joy was muddled by my guilt. “No. You can't trade another girl in my place. I couldn't handle that burden.”
“I'm not going to.” He turned my hair into a handle, pushed his nose on my neck. “Didn't you hear me? I couldn't. For the first time, when I tried—I just couldn't.” His body was shaking with fervor. It terrified me, and yet, I wanted so badly to comfort him. “Celeste, somehow you wormed your way into my brain.”
It took a slight movement, but I leaned down, kissed his temple. “Welcome to my world.”
My warped fucking world.
Tensing around me, Leonide grabbed for my wrist. The padlock clinked when it hit the floor. “I like having you tied up. I'm glad you stayed here while I was gone.” My belly went fuzzy. “But right now, I don't want to stand in a cold fucking bathroom.”
I spread my fingers on his cheek, stood on tip-toe to kiss him. “If you hadn't leashed me, I still would have stayed right here.” Gazing into his curious face, I fought to keep my voice from trembling. “It would have been my fucking choice to do it, too.”
My freedom to obey.
Grabbing his forearm, I pulled him to the bed.
Initially he obeyed. Lying down, he let me straddle him. Allowed me to peel off every button on his jacket, his shirt, until he was under me in nothing but his belt and trousers. Sliding down his torso, I tasted the grooves between his muscles.
Leonide groaned, the noise encouraging me. Fingers undid his clasps, revealed his boxers. I got as far as rubbing my cheek on his hidden erection.
That was enough for him.
Growling, he rolled me off. Pressed onto my belly, I made a soft sound into the blankets. It was the end of any quiet noises I would make.
Ripping my panties down my thighs, his firm chest scratched at my back. Teeth connected with a shoulder blade, tongue smoothing where pain burned. My face was trapped between his lungs and the bed, enhancing every tiny thing he did.
He kissed my temple, crawled down me like a tree. I had no warning, his palms spread my ass wide and hoisted my hips up. He'd eaten me out in Vegas, it was a memory that still turned my insides to honey.
But this was different.
The position was beyond intimate, his nose and mouth buried on my pussy. Arms kept me still, held my legs so I could only wiggle and gasp. Flexing everything, I clawed at the sheets and screamed.
How could anything in the world be better than this?
Leonide sat up, whispered something I couldn't hear. It was husky, full of the same riveting need that was controlling my senses. Glancing back, I had one look of his cock, his fist pumping it in preparation. Then he pushed inside, stretching me out as he moved.
We'd fucked before. He'd done so many things to my body and mind.
But this was the first time we'd had sex, knowing how much we both craved the other.
He wants to keep me.
It was an aphrodisiac all its own.
Every thrust created new colors behind my eyes. I was dizzy and grounded at the same time, amazed that I had the strength to rock back onto his hard-on.
The decadent whispers in me grew louder. Soon it was an orchestra, and I was playing every part. Squealing, clamping teeth on a pillow, I s
trained around him as I came. My slick heat encouraged him, he bent low, clasped my hips and drove harder.
Flesh on flesh echoed in the room. Grunting like an animal, Leonide's palm came down on the back of my neck. His fingers were trembling, seeming to struggle with choking me or not. Before he could decide to choose the latter, he gasped.
Inside, I felt him swell. The thickness of his orgasm startled me, left me swimming mentally in butter and sugar. I stayed there under him, content to listen to his breathing and feel him locked in my pulsing loins.
When I did eventually roll over, Leonide sliding free, there was drool staining the sheets. We both saw it, and though I blushed profusely, Leonide just graced me with an easy smile.
I'd thought it awful, once. That smile of his.
But no longer.
****
Such a strange comfort, to be tangled with him in the sheets. No locks, no chains, no threats to make me behave. It was disturbing, in a way. Acting like a normal couple who could snuggle after such rough, breath-stealing sex.
Even in the act of making love, Leonide walked the line between seduction and danger. Allowing him near me was as risky as walking into a tiger cage.
The thrill was entirely worth it.
Beside me, he was staring at the ceiling. His humming was throaty, the familiar song I'd heard from him before. Stroking a finger on his jugular, enjoying how it thrummed, I sat up. “I've heard you sing that a few times, now. What is it from?”
He glanced at me, considered something I couldn't grasp. “It's just something mothers sing to their children.”
“So she sang it to you, then.”
“Yes.” Leaning into the pillows, his eyes went far away. “When I was little. Always before bed.”
Recalling how he'd hummed it as he bathed me, I pursed my lips. “And when you were hurt.” His glance was icy; I bit my cheek. “Sorry. I—you sang it to me when I was in the tub, that time.” After that massage—my punishment.
