by Kitty Thomas
Still, Anton showed no emotion.
Janette backed toward the door but couldn’t bring herself to leave. Annette could see the guilt in her sister’s eyes. She’d been a fool to think that somehow an exchange would make Janette’s life better. She would carry the guilt of surviving this night for the rest of her life, and there was nothing Annette could do to make that okay.
“Jan, go! I’ll be okay.” She was one hundred percent certain that if her sister didn’t leave the house right now, Brian would kill her. And apparently, Anton wasn’t going to stop him. The betrayal after his mercy and what she’d felt had been some sort of genuinely tender moment hit her in the gut so hard it might have knocked her over if Brian hadn’t had a firm grip on her.
Tears streamed down Janette’s cheeks. “I can’t leave you,” she whispered.
There was a loud bang. Annette nearly jumped out of her skin. The gun had been pressed against her head, so shouldn’t she be dead right now? Maybe she was dead. She touched the back of her head, expecting there to be blood but there was nothing.
“Goddammit! What did you do?” Brian shouted.
“I filled your gun with blanks. I didn’t trust you,” Anton said.
Janette still stood frozen in the doorway. Brian threw the gun down, and then his hands were around Annette’s neck. She struggled as he started to squeeze
“Leave!” Brian shouted. “I don’t need a gun to kill.”
Anton pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Janette. “Come to Dome tomorrow at ten-thirty, and we will discuss details. You will be given proof of your sister’s safety on a regular basis and all the money you need so long as you abide by my rules. I will take excellent care of your sister.”
Janette looked at her sister one more time, and clearly not knowing what else to do, she ran.
Anton shouted down the hall at her. “Remember, if you call the police or anyone else, Brian will kill her before they get to the front door.”
The downstairs door slammed, and Annette heard the tires screech out of the driveway.
Brian’s grip around Annette’s throat finally loosened, and she dropped to the floor and leaned against the side of the bed to catch her breath.
“She better not have left tire marks on that nice driveway,” Brian said.
“Or what? You’ll chase her down and murder her?” Anton said as he came back into the room. He hauled back and punched Brian hard in the jaw, causing him to stumble.
“You really think I would have just let you shoot her?” Anton said. “I told you. She is mine. You’d better start respecting that claim.”
Brian rubbed his jaw and shrugged. “You almost let me strangle her just now.”
“I knew you were bluffing that time to scare her sister. Be glad you didn’t kill her. We’d have one less partner now.”
So maybe he would still protect her. Maybe.
Brian didn’t say anything, but he aimed a dirty look at Annette. “You’d better be worth all this risk,” he said. Then he slunk out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Annette flinched as Anton moved closer. He touched the side of her throat gently. “Does this hurt?”
“Yes, Master.” She wasn’t stupid enough to forget his rules.
His hand moved to a different spot and again pressed. “What about this?”
“Yes.”
“But you are speaking all right. You’ll probably have a bruise.” He stroked the side of her face. “You’re very brave. They say fortune favors the brave. I guess we’ll see.”
There was brave and there was stupid, and Annette was pretty sure she fell on the stupid end of that bell curve. Now that Janette had left, and she was alone with her fate, the reality of what she’d done was finally sinking in. Even mere minutes before, her focus had been on getting her sister to safety so then at least she wouldn’t have to live with the crushing guilt that somehow this was her fault. And now the only thing left to focus on was the bargain she’d made with the Russian.
“Will you be kind to me?” she asked. Such a stupid question. Like this was some fairy tale.
“Oh, yes, kiska. I will be very, very kind. And when this sacrifice you’ve made stops feeling like a sacrifice and starts feeling like pleasure… when you crave me and this enslavement, what then?”
She didn’t answer. She wanted to believe such an outcome wasn’t possible, but how could she when she felt so drawn to him already?
“Are you hungry?”
She nodded. Annette hadn’t been able to think about mundane things like food for the past few hours, but now that he brought it up, yes, she was starving.
“Come with me.”
She followed him down the stairs to the kitchen. The house had gotten so quiet. It was late. Maybe the others had gone to bed. He led her into the fancy industrial kitchen and indicated a place for her to sit.
“We have some leftover Chinese food?” He said it as a question, which was so weird considering the circumstances.
“That’s fine.”
He gave her a sharp, pointed look, but he didn’t say anything about her not addressing him. She just wanted him to understand she needed time to process all this. Despite hours on the road to get here and her resolve to free her sister, she hadn’t thought through all the implications. And after all the adrenaline that had pumped through her she felt like everything had just dropped inside her. She felt shaky and scared and a sense of unreality closing in around her.
Anton heated a plate of food in the microwave and placed that and a can of soda on the counter in front of her.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked.
“No.” Such a personal question. It somehow felt like more of an invasion than anything that had happened so far because it felt more real than everything else. It was a bit of the normal world slipping into the surreal world of the isolated house.
“Where are you in your cycle?”
She blushed and stayed silent.
“Kiska? I asked you a question.”
She looked down at the Chinese food. “I just finished.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“And how many days was it?”
“Three.”
“And you’re already done?”
His questions were so intrusive, yet somehow it felt more exposed than what had happened earlier on the pool table.
“Answer me,” he said.
“Yes. This is normal for me.”
“And how many days in a normal cycle for you?”
“Like thirty or thirty-one?”
He seemed to be doing some math in his head.
“Hmmm.” Anton moved to a cabinet and rummaged around in there, finally coming back out with a small white paper cup, which he placed on the table beside her.
There was a tiny pill in it.
“It’s birth control.”
“I don’t want to take that.”
“I didn’t ask. Would you rather be pregnant?”
She shook her head.
“Lindsay’s specialty is psychology, but he’s fully capable of handling most normal medical issues. We have a fully functioning medical room. You are perfectly safe if you’re worried it will hurt you.”
“What if I get pregnant anyway? What happens then?”
“We’ll worry about that if it happens.”
“No. Tell me. What happens then?”
He let out a deep annoyed sigh. “My God, Annette. What do you want to happen?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Then how can we have a conversation about it? Take the fucking pill.”
Annette stared at the little paper cup for about a minute before she finally swallowed the pill, chasing it with the soda.
Anton nodded. “Good. Come up to my room when you’re finished. It’s on the third floor. I’ll leave the door open and the light on so you can find it.” Then he left her alone in the large, shiny steel kitchen.
&nb
sp; Annette let out a long, slow breath. Part of her wanted to leave the food and try the doors to see if she could get outside. But it was late, and she knew just how far out they were. And even though he’d spared her downstairs in the game room, if she ran away, she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t send someone after her sister. And maybe her as well.
You don’t want to go, a traitorous voice whispered in her mind, which was just more evidence of her mental instability. It didn’t matter how hot he was or how many funny things his accent did to her. Nor did it matter that what had happened on that pool table downstairs had been like touching God. It was still completely suicidal to want him on any level for any reason. Beyond that, it was fucking sick.
She shook these troubling thoughts away and dug into the Peking Duck and egg rolls. Anton had also brought her a fortune cookie. She wasn’t sure how to take that. But she opened the cookie anyway.
You will meet a handsome mysterious stranger.
She tried to find the rest of the paper that might say and he will murder you in your sleep.
The fortune cookie was over a day late. Maybe it was a history cookie.
When she’d finished eating, she left the plate in the giant stainless steel sink and wandered out of the kitchen. She paused in the entryway. On one side of her was a huge staircase; on the other was the front door.
Just go. This guy will hurt you.
But would he really?
Annette hadn’t thought of any man sexually in so long she thought maybe she never would again. Her previous partners had been so uninspiring in bed that it had killed the whole concept of sex for her. They’d been so… boring. The Russian was definitely not boring.
The way he’d touched her… like he actually knew what he was doing with her. But at the same time, he was dangerous. And who knew what the hell awful things he’d make her do? It might be different if he were just into regular normal sex.
Then again, regular normal sex hadn’t done much for her. She didn’t think she was kinky, but… how would she know? Her fantasies had sometimes run to the super dark and twisted, but she thought it was because of what she did for work. She needed constant novelty to not get bored. It was just a phone sex job hazard. Wasn’t it?
Had she been lying to Anton about her fantasies or lying to herself? Because maybe things weren’t as clear as she liked to pretend. Maybe that explained why regular sex hadn’t done it for her. Maybe she needed some danger to get off. This was so fucked up.
At the club, she’d wanted to go home with him. And then do what?
When she’d come here, it had been purely to save her sister. It wasn’t for any other reason, but now that she was here... If she wasn’t fleeing out the front door, there had to be a reason for that. Because if she were truly in fear for her life, she’d take the risk. Wouldn’t she?
She started toward the front door. She couldn’t live with herself if she went to him voluntarily and he destroyed her. Annette reached for the door but stopped short. There was a small white box on the wall beside it with a flashing red light next to the word armed.
Oh. That was why nobody was down here babysitting her and why she wasn’t chained up somewhere. Either Anton or one of the other guys must have set the alarm before going to bed. If she opened that door the alarm would go off and they’d all come running.
There was an unsettling sort of relief in this fact because now it was suddenly rational to go up the stairs to the Russian. Her choices had been cut off, so she didn’t have to worry which one was the right one. She didn’t have to think too hard about why she was doing it. She had so many excuses. Her sister’s safety. The raging wilderness outside for miles and miles. The security system. With all of these things true, going upstairs to Anton like he’d told her to was the smart option of the choices she had available.
Anton was in bed reading when she finally reached his room—though suite was more like it. It was huge, with a balcony off to one side, a large walk-in closet, and an attached bathroom.
He was bare at least from the waist up. It was impossible to know if he wore anything below that because he was covered up with the blankets. He wore dark-rimmed reading glasses that made him look like he belonged in a men’s magazine.
He closed the book and set it on the nightstand. “I thought you got lost.” He patted the bed beside him. “Close the door.”
Annette shut the door and crossed the room, feeling like maybe all the excuses she’d made before hadn’t been insurmountable after all. She started to pull the covers back and get into the bed, but Anton made a face.
“No. Take that off. You aren’t wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants if you want to sleep in my bed.”
Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? He’d seen everything already. But he hadn’t been watching her like this. Her mind was such a jumble. Was she nervous because he was a criminal? Because she was afraid he’d hurt her even though he’d already shown a softer side? Or because he was so distressingly beautiful?
Would she have felt like this if she’d gone home with him from the club? Probably. This was so far outside the range of her experience, even without the morally upsetting parts.
“Kiska, it is very early to be trying my patience. We made a deal. Take off your clothes. Now.”
His accent wrapped around her, making it hard to think straight. The way his voice caressed her felt more solid than the fabric against her skin.
“Where is your bravery from before? Did you run out?”
Maybe. She had been rather single minded before, determined to do whatever he wanted to get Jan home. She wished he’d pull out that cream again. As intense as it was, at least it would help push her over the edge of her fears and into his bed.
She screwed up the last bit of courage she had and pulled off the T-shirt and sweatpants.
“That’s better.”
She got into the bed. Anton took the glasses off and put them on top of his book on the bedside table. He touched the side of her cheek, and she felt herself melting into his warmth. There was relief in him touching her. It shut off the swirling thoughts inside her head.
Because when his hands were on her, there was no right or wrong. He wasn’t a criminal. She wasn’t a victim. Her sister hadn’t been in danger. Her life hadn’t changed. Everything was okay. Nothing mattered but the way this felt.
She closed her eyes and pretended it was the night before. She hadn’t had too much to drink. She’d gone home with him. She was in his bed—all according to plan. Her plan, not his.
He pulled her closer until his mouth covered hers in the warmest, most comforting kiss she’d ever been enveloped in. Everything about his body touching hers was right, no matter how much else was wrong.
She was probably crazy. She had to be crazy. Some undiagnosed issue that was only becoming obvious in captivity. But if this was crazy, fuck sanity.
Anton broke the kiss, and she opened her eyes suddenly to look into the most intense gaze she’d ever been subject to. “I’m going to fuck you without any bells or whistles or toys tonight. You don’t have to worry about anything I’m going to do. I will make you feel good. And it’s just us tonight. Okay?”
She nodded, still not able to call him what he wanted. She just needed a moment to catch her breath and… figure this out. Everything about all of this was so wrong, but if it was so wrong, why was her body responding like this? She’d never been this turned on in her life. And there was no arousal cream to blame this time. It was all that accent, those abs, that warm confident touch, the quiet power that had rolled off him from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him.
“Lie back, pet.”
He took something out of the dresser drawer. A blindfold. She couldn’t help the fear that swamped her.
“I’m not going to hurt you, kiska. I just want you to focus on how you feel and nothing else. Close your eyes. What can it hurt to just relax and see what happens?”
He was the devil. All smooth temptation. His voice silk and aged s
cotch. What else was she going to do? Annette sighed and leaned back against the pillows and shut her eyes.
When the blindfold was secure, he raised her arms over her head, and suddenly, he had more silk to tie her wrists to the headboard. Then his warm mouth was on her neck, raining kisses over her skin as it pebbled with goosebumps in response. He began to speak in a low, soothing voice in Russian.
The only word she understood was kiska when it came tripping out of his mouth every now and then, punctuated sharply by a litany of words and phrases she might never decode.
His hands were so warm as they stroked lightly over her skin. It was less massage this time and more a gentle petting sensation. Her breath caught in her throat when he began to rub between her legs, still speaking softly to her in Russian.
A part of her desperately wanted to know what he was saying, but another part of her was simply caught up in the magic of the sounds rolling off his tongue, this beautiful mystery that told her everything she needed to know just by his tone.
This must be what mating must have felt like for humans before language could come and complicate the dance. Just sounds that no one could decipher. Just the feelings, not the content.
He kissed a trail down her belly, and then his tongue was between her legs, slowly and carefully licking the tender sensitive flesh, the center of her pleasure, which the other two bumbling idiots hadn’t been able to find with a map and a flashlight. But Anton knew the map of her body as if he’d drawn it up himself. His expert tongue caused her hips to arch off the bed, pushing harder against his mouth. Neither of the men she’d previously been with had ever done this.
A whimper escaped her throat. It was answered with a chuckle and more Russian. She wondered if he even realized he wasn’t speaking English right now.
All of a sudden he released her wrists from their restraints. “I want you on your hands and knees.” These were the first words she’d understood in twenty minutes.
“Master, please...” She was so close. Would he just… leave her like this?
“Now,” he said.
She rushed to obey him. A moment later he thrust into her. When he filled her, it took her breath away. He began to move inside her with an aching slowness. His fingers trailed gently over her back and then dug hard into her hips as he increased his pace.
