by Winter Fox
I hooked my fingers beneath the material of my white panties, and pushed them quickly down my legs. There was no sense in dragging this out, I reasoned. The sooner he saw what he wanted, the sooner I could get dressed.
How wrong I was.
Once I was completely naked, Mariusz seemed to sober up a little. Resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward and studied me.
“Lie on the bed, Liselle.” His voice was filled with a low menace.
I turned away, biting my lip, as the realization crashed through me. He was going to fuck me. Tonight. Now. There would be no wedding night deflowering for me. I was about to be raped by my fiancé, while another man watched—a man who had given me an orgasm on that bed, only a few hours ago. These men really were the monsters that Ilya claimed them to be.
I looked back at Mariusz, and quickly made my decision. I wasn’t giving this shit up without a fight—fuck the consequences.
“No.” I wrapped one arm around my breasts, and used my other hand to cover the “V” where my thighs met at the top of my legs.
Mariusz was off the sofa and in front of me with such speed, my eyes blurred. His hand wrapped around my throat, and he dragged me unceremoniously across the floor toward the bed. I lifted my hands to claw at his fingers, but a sharp smack across the side of my face made me drop my hands again.
He threw me onto the satin covers, and started to unfasten his pants. I kicked and squirmed underneath him, trying desperately to get away from him.
“Are you on birth control?” He growled.
“No.” I hoped that the lie might stop him. I had been on birth control for a few months now—knowing that I was coming here shortly after turning twenty-one had been my incentive.
He didn’t fall for it. “Ilya, get her bag, and check it.”
I turned my head to the side, and watched as the bigger man picked up my handbag which I had dropped at the door when Sava had first brought me here. He rummaged through it for a couple minutes, and I started to wonder if he might actually lie for me.
He didn’t. Lifting the blister pack out from my bag, he silently held the pills up for Mariusz to see. Mariusz was clearly furious with my lie—he grabbed my chin painfully tightly, and hissed at me. “I’m going to fuck you now. I’m going to take what’s mine.”
My eyes desperately searched the room, looking for the tattooed monster, even after he had let me down yet again. Ilya was just putting his hand on the door-handle when I caught sight of him, and I felt sick at the thought that he was going to leave me here for this.
By now, Mariusz had fought his way between my thighs, and he had removed his pants; exposing his hard cock. He started to press down over me, and I cried out, bringing my knee up to connect with his stomach. My hands tore at his face, and he had to use both of his own hands to pin my arms down.
“Ilya, get the fuck over here, now,” the older man snarled.
“I was going to give you some privacy.” Ilya sounded insistent.
Turning toward him, Mariusz’s voice reached fever pitch. “What part of don’t fucking question me don’t you understand? Get your ass over here and hold this bitch’s hands.”
I watched Ilya’s face pale as he realized what Mariusz was asking of him, and my heart sank. Slowly, he placed his bottle of vodka onto the bedside table, before kneeling up onto the bed; until he was close enough to reach forward and wrap his large hands around my wrists.
I hoped he could read the look in my eyes. I willed him to be able to understand the meaning.
You’re not a knight after all. You’re the worst kind of monster.
9
Ilya
Her amber eyes burned into his as he stared down at her. They were like two molten pools of liquid accusation and hatred. He’d never thought he’d have to make such a fucking horrendous choice in his life. Be a part of this girl’s torture, or lose his family. It felt worse than killing.
Mariusz had never demanded anything like this from him before.
But protecting his family was everything—they weren’t responsible for his shit life decisions, and if he gave Mariusz even one shred of doubt over his loyalty, his mother and sister would die.
He’d known this girl less than a day, and he’d already hurt her himself. What difference did this make? Realistically, the sooner she got the issue of her virginity out of the way, the sooner she could relax, and maybe even learn to enjoy fucking Mariusz a little more.
Pretty lies, he thought darkly.
Mariusz released the girl’s wrists to Ilya, then concentrated on pushing her legs up and apart; before positioning himself at her entrance. She was writhing and struggling, and crying out with a stream of threats. Telling the men that they were fucking monsters, and that she would kill them both.
Ilya felt a detached sort of respect for Liselle’s bravery. She was about to have her virginity robbed from her in the most horrific way possible. Yet she was kicking and fighting and cussing, and all the while she still hadn’t even shed a single fucking tear.
He caught her eyes in his gaze as he leaned over her, pinning her wrists high above her head, and he tried to silently communicate to her that she should quiet down. It would hurt so much less if she let Mariusz get it over with quickly.
In response her eyes clouded over with dark hatred, and she arched up off the bed to whisper at Ilya. “You are a fucking monster.”
Captured by the depths of her amber eyes, he wanted to say something in reply. He wanted to apologize—even though he knew how fucking lame it would sound—he opened his mouth to speak. But then she wailed in pain and fury as Mariusz drove himself mercilessly all of the way into her body, making her buck against both of her tormentors hands.
“No,” she cried.
Mariusz smirked in delight, shifting on the bed until he had a better angle to drive his cock into the girl over and over again. She fought against them both for the first few minutes. But gradually she became quieter and more rigid as her energy ran out. Or perhaps she was just giving up, Ilya thought.
Although something told him this girl didn’t know what giving up was.
Mariusz paused in his assault, and his eyes met Ilya’s above the girl’s limp body. “Do you want to try her? She is so fucking tight, Ilya.”
Fighting against the revulsion which bubbled up into his throat, and the urge to smash his fist into Mariusz’s mouth, Ilya shook his head. “No, korol. I’m good.”
Mariusz shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Then he pulled himself out of her, until he was just resting at the edge of her opening, before resuming his violent rhythm of abuse.
Liselle cried out again, and this time Ilya couldn’t bite back the murmur of comfort which found its way to his lips. “Shh, milaya. It will be over soon.” His thumb absently stroked comforting circles against one of her wrists.
Her eyes met his, and he could read the confusion in them. She was torn between believing that Ilya was equally as monstrous as Mariusz, and also believing in his whispered words. It gave her something to cling on to, and he hoped it would be enough to bring her mind through this hell intact.
If there was one thing that Ilya knew for sure, it was that bodies could heal—minds were much more fragile.
Mariusz eventually found his climax, and he roared his elation toward the ceiling as he slowed his thrusts into the girls trembling body. On the final thrust, he grunted; before leaning over her to lay a tender kiss against her cheek—still absent of tears, Ilya noticed.
Liselle didn’t move, her eyes were glazed over, and Ilya began to worry that her mind had been pushed too far. He slowly released the pressure against her wrists and when she still didn’t move, he pulled his hands back. He felt relieved to be separated from the horror he had just been a part of—he almost wished that Mariusz had chosen Sava for this.
Almost.
Mariusz stood up and used a towel to clean himself up, and Ilya turned away in disgust when he saw the red stains against the white fabric. There
was no doubting that Liselle had indeed been a virgin, and he had no fucking idea how much what she had just gone through had hurt.
He turned back to the bed, and saw that she had curled up into the fetal position. Her arms were wrapped around her legs which were drawn up to her stomach, and her head was buried down against her chest. It was heartbreaking.
Mariusz followed Ilya’s gaze. “I’m done. Take her to her own room. I sleep better in an empty bed.”
The growl found its way out of Ilya’s throat before he even realized he was going to do it. Fury battered its way through him like a tornado, and his fists clenched tightly. He didn’t just want to hit Mariusz in that moment—he wanted to kill him.
The older man took three quick strides across the room, until he was standing in front of Ilya. His second insubordination of the day had clearly not gone unnoticed.
Mariusz met Ilya’s eyes, and the madness danced behind his liquid blue irises. “Twice in a day, Lieutenant?”
Ilya took a moment to reply. He was working hard to stop himself from tearing this evil prick apart. “I don’t know what you mean,” he ground out, past clenched teeth.
Mariusz drew himself up to his full height, puffing his chest out like a peacock—he was afraid of Ilya. He would always be afraid of Ilya. “I think you do. And let me tell you something, Lieutenant. I know what I just did disgusted you, I know you think you’re better, more moralistic than the rest of us. But imagine how you would feel if Sava held your sister down like that while I fucked her cunt.”
Ilya froze. His fury was a white-hot demon trying to beat its way out of his chest now. His sister was only seventeen.
Mariusz nodded once; before turning away to snag his bottle of vodka, and take a drink. “That makes you angry, da?”
“What do you think, korol?” Ilya managed to snarl.
“Then don’t piss me off,” Mariusz roared.
Ilya hadn’t realized that he could hate himself any more than he already did. But when he bowed his head in respect to the animal in front of him, he felt himself hit rock bottom. “Yes, Mariusz.”
The crazy blue eyes studied him for a moment longer. Then Mariusz turned away, and sat back down on the black couch. He gestured absently to the prone body of the girl on the bed.
“Then take her away. I don’t give a fuck what you do with her, Ilya. Just keep her out of my sight; until I want her again.”
Needing to escape the room—the scene of the crime that he was as much a participant in as Mariusz was—Ilya walked over to the bed. He touched Liselle’s shoulder, and she reflexively curled even tighter into her ball.
He almost growled at her, but he quickly stopped himself. After what she’d just gone through, that was the last thing she needed. Instead he slid his arms underneath her slender body. Hooking one arm behind her knees, and one under her back, he lifted her up, pulling her against his chest. She didn’t even murmur.
Looking around the room, he spotted her handbag, and hooked it with a finger. Then he crossed the room to the door. He shifted the girl, until he had her securely held in one of his arms, and then clicked the handle of the door down.
“Wait.” Mariusz stood up, and followed Ilya to the door—where he slipped his hand into the girl’s handbag, retrieving her cell phone.
When Ilya frowned at him, he held it up. “I don’t want my fiancée able to discuss her situation with outsiders.”
So she wasn’t even allowed to speak to her brother? Shaking his head, Ilya walked through the doorway.
Mariusz’s voice followed him into the hall. “Don’t give me another reason to doubt you, Ilya.”
“Yes, korol,” Ilya murmured, before kicking the door closed behind him.
He started along the hallway toward the part of the house which was reserved for guests. It was located in the east wing, and comprised of six bedrooms, which were always kept made up in case of surprise visitors. Halfway there he ran into Nikolai.
“Lieutenant.” Nikolai spoke respectfully, even as his brown eyes roamed over Liselle’s naked body.
Ilya inwardly cursed himself for not covering her up before he left, but he kept his voice light and casual. “Nikolai. Are the premises secure for the night?” Mariusz had a lot of enemies, and you could never be too careful.
“Da. Where are you taking her?” Nikolai looked as though he might reach out and touch the girl in Ilya’s arms, and Ilya took a protective step back.
“To her room,” Ilya replied gruffly.
Nikolai took the hint. He wouldn’t dare fuck around with Ilya—he knew all too well that kind of shit would end up with him either dead, or permanently broken.
“Ahh, I see. Well, goodnight, Lieutenant.”
“Goodnight, Nik.” Ilya stood still, waiting for the other man to leave the hallway.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It would take minutes for word to get back to Sava and the others that Liselle was all alone in the guest wing, and Mariusz had set a firm precedent today. Letting Sava take her upstairs alone had been the korol’s way of letting the men know that they could play with his new toy.
He looked down at the girl in his arms. Her eyes were still tightly closed. Either she was sleeping, or she was pretending to be asleep—defaulting into a hidden oblivion, where she didn’t have to acknowledge the monsters surrounding her. She was beyond beautiful, and he knew that every single member of the Five would be desperate to know what it felt like to fuck her.
He stormed along the hallway. His rage was becoming a real issue today. He was usually able to squash even an inkling of temper down without a thought. But today he was so highly strung that he knew he was becoming a liability to himself.
Sleep. He needed sleep, that was all.
When he reached the door, he clicked the handle down, and with a last glance over his shoulder he carried the girl into his bedroom. He’d lived in this house since he was twenty-one-years old—he was twenty-seven now—and in six years he’d never once brought a woman into his room.
Until now.
Using his foot to kick the door closed behind them, he was suddenly filled with an impending sense of dread. This was not going to end well for any of them.
His room was big. Not as big as Mariusz’s, but that was to be expected. Ilya was only the guard dog after all. The theme colors of the room were dark blues and grays, coupled with only a few pieces of furniture. Just his bed, wardrobe, and a desk which he mainly used to write letters to his mother.
His mother didn’t have a cell—she lived in a place where it was a struggle to get any sort of decent reception anyway. So, Ilya wrote to her as often as he could, trying to prove to her that had not forgotten them.
Ilya crossed the hardwood floor to a bed that was much too large for a man who insisted on sleeping in it alone, and he gently laid Liselle down on the side which he didn’t usually sleep on. She murmured softly.
“Shh.” He stroked his fingers against her cheek as he shushed her, and she flinched.
Shaking his head at the surge of anger and shame inside of him, Ilya went to his wardrobe, and selected a long gray T-shirt. He came back to Liselle’s side of the bed, and slid it over her head. She let him lift her up off the bed enough that he could pull her arms through the holes, and tug the material down to cover her exposed body.
His eyes lingered for a moment on the red smears at the top of her thighs, and he was again consumed by shame. He hastily pulled the blanket over her, to keep her warm.
There was no sense in dwelling on what had happened. What had been done to Liselle had been done. What had been taken from her couldn’t be given back. But at least she would be safe tonight. Not one of those fuckers would dare to try and take her from Ilya’s bed—possibly not even Mariusz.
Ilya picked up an old bottle of vodka from his bedside table, and tipped it into his mouth. He drank until he felt as though he would choke; before returning the bottle to the table. Then he stripped off to his underwear, and settled onto his back i
n the bed, as far away from the girl as he could possibly get.
As the acrid flavor of the vodka coated his tongue, he closed his eyes. Although he suspected that no amount of liquor would help him sleep well tonight.
10
Liss
Instinct kicked in the second I woke up, and I kept my eyes tightly closed, and my breathing slow and even. Last night’s events torrented through my mind, as though someone had opened the floodgates on them. I stopped breathing and fought to stifle a moan of horror.
Where was I?
I could sense that I wasn’t alone in the bed, but I could feel the bedclothes against my bare legs—they were brushed cotton, and not satin. I wasn’t in Mariusz’s bedroom. Thank fuck. But, if the man next to me wasn’t Mariusz, then who was he?
I turned my head slowly to the side—afraid that I would wake him—and opened my eyes. The Lieutenant—Ilya, was sleeping next to me. He was lying on his back, his broad, tattooed chest was bare. Exposed by the bedclothes which had been pushed down around his perfectly defined hips, and waist. He looked completely at peace.
Remembering back to his hands around my wrists, holding me painfully still while Mariusz raped me, I felt an inky blackness creeping through my soul.
How dare you sleep so fucking peacefully after what you did.
I sat up quietly, and looked around the room. This had to be Ilya’s room, but I couldn’t remember him bringing me here. Then I was distracted by a sudden twinge between my legs, and I pushed the bedclothes down to assess the damage to my body.
For the first time I realized that I was wearing an oversized T-shirt. It would be way too big for Mariusz, so I suspected that it belonged to Ilya. But I didn’t remember him dressing me in it. Peeling the T-shirt back from my legs, I was horrified to see the blood stains smeared on my inner thighs.
Panicking, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and I almost cried out at the sharp pain deep inside my lower belly. Mariusz had made sure that I would always remember the loss of my virginity as one of the most brutal events in my life. I looked over my shoulder to the sleeping form of Ilya, and my lip curled savagely.
