by Coco Miller
I don’t quite understand what my words mean to him until he grabs my hand and helps me up from my seat. I drop the book, following him out of the library.
He is quiet as he leads me up the marble staircase. My heart beats a loud, annoying rhythm in my chest. He walks past my bedroom and continues down the hallway. The double doors to his bedroom stood tall and firm at the end of it. He pushes them open and ushers me inside.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I glance around. Polished mahogany wood and grey textiles are all I can see. A huge King-sized bed sits against the far wall, there’s a large balcony off to the left, and a comfy looking armchair off to the right.
“What will I be doing?” I ask, frightened of the answer.
“You’re going to work off in bed.”
He drops my hand as I spin around to meet his burning eyes.
“Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe my own ears. Maybe it’s because of all the blood rushing inside of them. “Are you insane?”
“I can make you feel things you could never even fathom. Things you have never felt before.”
Funny how this mobster’s English gets really good when he’s talking about sex. He’s using words like fathom?
“Umm…” I was fucking speechless. Not a single clever comeback would come to my mind.
He lifts his hand and plays with a chunk of my hair. He stares at it almost with wonder. I have deep caramel skin and natural red hair which is uncommon for many African-American women. When I was younger, my classmates would tease me about the bright color, but now I realize it’s beautiful. It’s part of what makes me unique.
“Your hair is beautiful, Kai. Is natural color, da?”
“Yes.”
“Between your legs too?”
I roll my eyes and refuse to answer.
He twines a few strands around one of his fingers and pulls tautly. The act sends shivers racing down my spine. I lean into his touch like an idiot. Curiosity keeps me rooted to the hardwood floor as he yanks my head to the side.
“I’ll find out soon enough,” he growls.
His teeth sink into my neck. His moans against my skin send a rippling flame of desire burning my insides to charred bits.
Focus on anything but the feelings he is evoking within me are gone right out the window. I’m lost to the night, never to resurface again, as he keeps sucking along my skin. There are four words I try to remember. Four words he uttered, yet they wouldn’t replay in my mind. What are the four words?
Oh, right...work off in bed.
As soon as I remember, I push him away.
“Stop,” I breathe heavily.
He appears shocked as if no one has ever told him to stop before. Which by the way he carries himself, I’m sure is the case. Between the muscles I know have to be hiding under his button-down shirt and his icy demeanor, I don’t doubt that he’s never heard the word before.
“You don’t want to pay off debt?”
His voice holds control, all of which I have lost long ago. My mind is at war with itself. I am tempted to let him touch me like I imagined him doing in my dreams, but something about this is so very, very wrong. It’s like I’m rewarding him for bad behavior. Really bad behavior.
He touches my neck where moments earlier his mouth had been. It feels good. I don’t want him to stop. Maybe I should consider the offer. My parents are taking way too long. I need to step up and try to get myself out of this on my own. I can’t wait on them.
Doing this for all the right reasons but wanting to do it isn’t bad, is it? I try to rationalize my need for him. My wanting to say yes to him. He drops his hand lower.
“Consider offer, kotenok. I can make you feel so good.”
His long, thick fingers cup my breast through my shirt, and I lose my breath.
My head falls back, my eyes close, and it makes me want him so much more.
“Ok.”
I didn’t even realize I’d just agreed until his thumb rubs over my pebbled nipple, pressing against the fabric of my shirt.
“Good girl.”
My eyes snap open and watch as his hand continues to play with my breast. I feel so tiny in his large, rough hands.
I guess I’m doing this. I will pay off my father’s debt in bed, and something tells me that I’m going to enjoy every minute of it. Scratch that, I am going to savor every minute.
He drops his hand and moves to the armchair. Watching him unbutton a few of his buttons, I stall before moving closer.
“Kai, I want you to dance for me.”
My body freezes. Dance? I don’t dance for men.
“There’s no music playing.”
He grabs a remote from the table beside the chair and flicks on some soft, sexy music.
“Now there is.”
I sway my hips from side to side not really too sure of what I’m doing or what he’s expecting.
My best friend, Megan, and I frequented the common university parties during my short spurt in college. I know how to kick loose and get my groove on. Yet, I feel awkward. Someone is watching me and only me.
I raise both arms above my head as I grind my hips to the beat of the song he’s selected. It’s an interesting choice. An old seventies dance record.
I close my eyes and picture myself at the club with Megan. The visualization exercise helps me. It seems so real; lost in the mix of sweaty college kids, as I gyrate my hips to the pulse of the music.
I almost forget where I am until I feel a hand wrap around my waist. I don’t open my eyes as he pulls me flush against his hard body and rocks into me. He’s so much taller and wider than me, that I almost feel enveloped in strong muscle and manhood.
He moves us together as his hands drop lower down my backside. I can feel his hard-on press into my stomach on each grind of his hips. It feels huge. So large, that now I’m worried.
He lowers his head, leaning in close to my ear. “You’re incredibly beautiful, kotenok.”
Tingles….actual tingles erupt everywhere. My pulse thrums beneath my heated skin.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
His hand lifts my chin to meet his eyes.
“Are you ready to pay your father’s debt now?”
I swallow. More like gulp. My mouth runs dry as my hands shake. I should really tell him the truth but I don’t.
“I think so.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” He inches his mouth closer. “At first.”
His mouth devours mine. His tongue taking over and searching for something only I can give him.
His hands plunge through my hair to the roots. His fingers grab, clasp, and thread each strand. We both mutually moan into each other. Then we fall into each other. The moment is slipping out of my control, and now he’s seemed to have gained all of it.
He steps me back toward his massive king sized bed, and I can’t believe that this is really happening. That I’m allowing it to happen. My lack of experience weighs heavily on my mind.
“Umm, Sergei, I’m not sure what to do.”
He stops.
“Explain.”
I look away then back to his eyes. It’s time to come clean.
“I lied.”
“About?”
“The college guy got drunk and passed out.”
“So you’re virgin.”
“Yes.”
“Already knew that. Not a problem. I’ll show you exactly what I want.”
Well, damn.
He pushes me onto the bed, and my breath catches as his face glistens in the moonlight. He is so hot. I mean for a kidnapping mobster...he’s kind of hot.
A muscle ticks in his chiseled jaw as he unbuttons the remaining few buttons on his shirt. As soon as the white material falls from his body, my breath catches. I knew he had to have muscles, but I wasn’t expecting the ink covering so many of them, especially across the expanse of his back. God, it was sexy.
“Wow.” My eyes can’t take it all in at once.
He mo
ves his hand, unzipping his pants and letting them fall to the floor. His ever expanding dick fills every inch of his black boxer-briefs. He palms it in his big hand and rubs along it.
I swallow slowly. My eyes carefully watching every one of his movements.
His thumbs ease both sides down and then, there it appears. Huge, throbbing, and all engorged. It was scary at first. I mean I know what a damn penis looks like, but up close like this? It’s almost as if it’s staring directly at me. Warning me about what’s to come.
I try to swallow again, but my mouth is dry. He fists his dick as his eyes meet mine hungrily. He licks his lips, and I just lie there unsure of what to do next.
“Come here,” he grinds out between clenched teeth.
He points to the floor, and now I know immediately what he wants.
“On your knees.”
I kneel before him, but this is yet another thing I’ve never done before.
I’ve never sucked a man’s dick.
My mother always taught me that you should save that act for your husband, so I always told guys no.
Sergei notices my hesitation and smiles dauntingly. I think he likes that I’m so inexperienced. He’s getting off on it. I on the other hand am not. I feel like a fish out of water.
My heart hammers an unsteady rhythm. The room is quiet and smells like desire and a bit of fear. I’d be surprised if he can’t feel the blood pumping through my veins.
He lifts my chin with his fingers. “Eyes on me, Kai.”
He holds the tip of his dick and rubs it along my cheek, smearing his precum along my flushed skin. He runs it over my lips.
“Open and suck.”
I lick my lips and then bring his full shaft inside of my mouth, trying to remember the technique I’ve watched on videos. I may be a virgin, but I’ve definitely seen my share of porn.
I taste salty skin mixed with my saliva as I suck along it carefully. He moans and seems to enjoy it. So hey, I think I can do this. His moans grow deeper and ignite my confidence. I lick along his shaft, pumping it with my hand.
I want to do a good job. I want to please him. I want to see if I can make his moans grow louder. It is my sole mission in that moment.
“Fuck, that’s it, Kai. You’re such a good little girl.”
Glancing up at him briefly, I continue on.
Hands fist my hair tighter, his eyes slam shut, and he groans loud and strong.
My insides melt, and a deep yearning takes over me. I want so much more with him, and the thought terrifies me.
His groans become louder. Then he takes over and starts fucking my mouth.
“I own this mouth. I bought it.”
His pulsing cock pumps and drags inside my mouth. Wetness coats my panties, and I have the urge to thrust my fingers into my pussy to relieve the building pressure.
“That’s it, kotenok. Take this cock deep down your throat,” he murmurs as salty hot liquid erupts from his penis, and I swallow it down.
His eyes met mine and for a second he graces me with a small smile that seems like something real for once.
A crack in the façade.
“If I’m not careful, you’ll be my undoing,” he says somewhat reluctantly.
The feeling is mutual.
Chapter Seven
After my successful dick sucking escapade, I cockily rise to my feet and wipe the corner of my mouth with my thumb.
“Get on the bed,” he orders icily.
“Wait...isn’t the debt paid now?”
He laughs almost sinisterly. “Oh, Kai, you’ll need to suck a lot more dick for that debt to be paid off.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. I don’t know why I’m so surprised, but his comment hurts. He’s talking to me like I’m some common whore. I am not a whore. I am a woman in a fucked up position. A position that he’s put me in.
I want to go back to my room.
As if he can read my mind, he speaks. “That’s enough for tonight, but tomorrow I’m going to rock your world harder than any college boy ever could.”
Shocked by his words, I silently move toward the door.
“Before you leave, come here,” he demands.
“Yes.” I face him. Doing my best to hold a stern stare.
We are centimeters apart. My ears ring in the silence of his stare. He runs his hand along my cheek.
“When I fuck you tomorrow, you’ll see how much I truly own you. You’ll understand how I paid for you, and how now you’re mine.”
I swallow with wide eyes then respond.
“You told me you never pay for women.”
“You are exception, kotenok.”
I turn and leave the room. Back in the confines of my own bedroom, I try to still my body’s reaction to him. He is gorgeous in a controlled way. His dominance frightens me and leaves me unsure of his next action. I try to sleep, but it is no use. I stare at the ceiling in my room, gazing over the strokes of the paint the brush made while painting, and begin to wonder how on earth I will ever get out of this mess alive.
I had to get out of this right?
My father wouldn’t leave me here forever, would he?
Did anyone have an update on what the hell was going on?
I feel like if I could only talk some sense into Sergei, that I could make him see my father was a good man.
A man who will fight for me.
A man who will rescue me.
For God’s sake, he made me. He changed my diapers. He sang to me. There’s no way he can just leave me here.
Tomorrow Sergei will fuck me if my dad doesn’t pay the money. That is fact. I can try stalling him a day or so, but I don’t even know how I feel about doing that. That’s the scary part.
It’s like I almost want Sergei to seduce me. To teach me. To touch me. I almost yearn for it, but I know I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t want this man. He is bad. He is evil. Yet, here I am, wanting to please him. Proud that I sucked his dick. Proud that I made him come. How fucked up is that?
I wanted to please this man who took me from my home in the middle of the night like a prisoner.
Reminder alert, Kai. That’s exactly what you are.
In a sense, I am his prisoner, and there is no leaving unless he allows it. Unless he approves. And I don’t see that approval coming anytime soon, because he is right, the debt is too much. The debt is too high. Whatever my father did, it’s not just about the money for Sergei. I can tell.
There is no way I can ever pay off my father’s transgressions. Yet here I am ready to try using my lips, my tongue, and even my vagina if that’s what it takes.
I will need some serious therapy if I ever come out of this alive.
I want to please my captor.
That’s some seriously twisted shit.
Chapter Eight
All day I keep waiting for Sergei to return from a business meeting he had to attend. I should be relieved that he’s out for most of the day, but instead I find myself wondering where he is, what he’s doing, and who he’s doing it with. Later in the evening, he finally steps through the front door.
“Kai, get dressed.”
He holds a garment box in his hands and lifts his beautiful stormy eyes to meet mine.
I step forward and open the box to find a beautiful satin, red dress inside.
“Where are we going?”
“Out. Now, hurry. Don’t make me wait.”
I grab the box from his hands and turn toward the large, marble staircase. He also has a small bag with him that has shoes and accessories inside. I feel like Cinderella getting ready for the ball.
The dress fits like a glove, hugging my curves and accentuating my breasts perfectly. Inside the bag was a beautiful freshwater pearl necklace. As I fastened it around my neck, I sigh. It looks perfect around my neck.
I scrunch some of my curls in place with my hands then slip into the satin, black high-heels with red bottoms. As I am putting on the finishing touches of my makeup, the door swings open.
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“Are you rea…oh,” Sergei says as he loses his breath.
I spin around, running my shaky hands down my dress. “Do I look ok?”
“You look yeblya amazing.”
I giggle at his choice of words as he steps closer.
“Yebla?”
“Fucking...you look fucking amazing.”
I grin. Happy that he likes what he sees.
“Where are we going?” I ask again.
He grips one hand in my hair.
“Out, and then later, I’m going to fuck your sweet cunt.”
His words stun me and excite me. No one has ever spoken to me like that.
He releases his hold on me and leads me out of the room.
A black car waits for us when we step outside. A driver, Sergei introduces as Phillipe, opens the door and ushers us in the back seat.
We fly down the road, and my nerves are all over the place. How much does he trust me not to scream when we are in public? Although, screaming in public won’t help out my father’s money issues. Who knows what Sergei would do if he didn’t have me as collateral.
“What if I scream in public?” I asked, meekly.
He leans closer, eyes blazing into mine. “I plan to make you scream in public, kotenok. You will like, da?”
He sticks out his tongue, licking the side of my face.
My eyes widened. Unable to meet his gaze, I stare out the window.
A while later, the driver pulls up to a nondescript brick building. We were far from the Chicago city limits, and I inhaled a deep breath.
“Where are we?”
The door opens and Sergei exits.
“You’ll see,” he says, grabbing my hand.
The wind blows my red tousled strands around my face as I glance around. The streets are dirty. Long blades of grass lay unkempt in fields off to my left.
The front door is large, red, and made of wood. Sergei knocks twice and as the door swings open, I noticed the faint light from the entryway.
A big, burly man with a receding hairline stood guard as we entered. “Mr. Isanov. Good evening, sir.”
“Hector, how are things tonight?”
“Everything is well. I’m sure you and your guest will find it very enjoyable this evening.”
