I came like it was the end of the world. And for me, it probably was. Everything I knew was swept up in the roaring tide that passed through me with the pleasure, hurricane force ecstasy. It promised to leave me wet, exhausted, and destroyed.
I thought it would go on forever. Fiery pulse after pulse ripped through me, curling my toes each time muscles I didn't know I had convulsed. They hadn't ever been worked like this. Self-pleasure was a pathetic substitute for this man's touch, driving me apart with his tireless fingers, forcing me to understand.
When I started to come down from the high, I finally did.
He was in control. All the happy thoughts about resistance died right there in the bed. He was going to lead me to my demise or else my freedom some dark day. One thing was for sure: it was going to happen on his schedule, and there wasn't a single thing I could do about it.
I collapsed with half my sanity, spent and confused. It wasn't until I closed my sweat drenched thighs that I realized his hand was gone. Planting my palms on the bed, I forced myself up, pulling down the gown's hem, hiding the soft, leaking slit he'd ravaged.
The curtain was open. I saw him near a huge fireplace, going through some kind of large cabinet. I was still staring at him when he turned and saw me. My eyes shot to the small box in his hands.
Condoms. Fuck.
There was no putting the brakes on anything, was there? He was going to finish what he'd started, completely chisel out the last flimsy stones I had to hold onto for dear sanity.
Jesus, what were they again? What did I have left?
I tried to think about the article, the blog, my budding career. Everything I'd ever hoped to write and throw on a resume. I tried to think about the Silver Pear, about Uncle Gioulio, the honorable and ruthless blood that led me to his place.
Blood and family. Sophistication and sin.
I was a prisoner of war, wasn't I? Then why the hell was I giving everything to the enemy?
Maybe this was my fate, to pay the price for what my father and his brother had done. I swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in my throat. I tried to brace myself for what was about to come, but I couldn't.
Having his hand seizing me like that, forcing me to come on his fingers, was one thing. Having him deep inside me...shit. Losing my sanity wasn't just a figure of speech if that happened. I didn't know who I'd be, or if I'd ever be a functioning person again if he took me tonight.
I glanced up. Our eyes met, sharing new dark and light. His were strangely calmer – the exact opposite of what I'd expected after he'd taken me, after I'd seen the erection raging in his pants.
“Here.” He dropped the box he was holding on my lap. “This shit doesn't mean anything's changed. We're fucking, Sabrina. But not today.”
My hand was shaking as I gripped the box and turned it over. No, not condoms after all, but birth control pills. Why?
“I'm a bastard on a one way mission. I'm not the fucking monster you think I am.” He paused, reaching softly for my face, making sure I didn't break his gaze by holding up my chin. “I'll give you a few days to settle in. Give that shit some time to work if you're not already on it. Take it. Or don't, for all I care. I got no problem blowing off if you think you're gonna fuck me over not taking it. I'll put a kid in you without hesitation. Shit, I'll need a son or two to take over all the new business we'll be dealing with once your family's outta it.”
“What? What is this?” Blood throbbed in my ears, and I wasn't sure if I was understanding his bizarre threats mixed with reprieve.
“Your chance to get ready for the rest of your life. Your time to get your pretty little head screwed on straight. Your opportunity to figure out that doing what I'm telling you isn't half bad.” He cocked his head. “Neither is fucking me. I know you enjoyed that shit just as much as I did. Next time you open your legs for me, don't fucking fight it. Enjoy it.”
Red heat settled in my cheeks. I flushed like this was a stupid prom date, rather than a ravishing by the heartless tattooed Russian beast before me.
Had he done this to me? All of it? Or was I just born with crossed wires meant to burn me down twenty two years later?
“I'm gonna leave you here to get some sleep. It's been a big day. Don't do anything stupid. We're upstate and there's no way out for miles, even if you managed to get past the guards. You need anything, you knock on the door to the room where I'll be sleeping.” He pointed to the adjoining door on the other side of the room, between two immense bookcases.
He started to walk. I watched the dark shapes on his back shifting as he moved, huge like the tiger I'd seen the first time we came face to face behind glass. And yet, he seemed just as conflicted, like he was still caged.
I didn't understand. He turned, brought his palm to his lips, and – honest to God – blew me a kiss.
I almost threw up. Almost laughed hysterically too. The urges collided, obliterating them both. I sat and stared like the rattled dove I was.