Split

Chapter 25

25

I t isn’t often that Roman’s work stretches into the late hours of the evening. He was still in his office with Niko when I went upstairs to get ready for dinner, and upon coming down, Clara told me that our meal would be postponed until the men were finished. It’s probably too much to hope that Niko will be asked to stay and dine with us, but I definitely wouldn’t mind having some nice dinner conversation for a change.

The chime of the grandfather clock indicates that I’ve been lurking in the study for half an hour now, and I’m starting to get antsy. For a fleeting second, I actually consider trying my luck at spying again. The click of my heels against the floor would be a dead giveaway, though, so I quickly dismiss that notion and instead pour myself a glass of vodka to nurse while I wait.

It goes down a little too smooth, so I have a second. Then I hear the distinct sound of the office door opening down the hall, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching.

Niko strides into the study, his steps pausing when he notices me hovering by the bar cart.

“Good evening, Mrs. Volkov,” he greets with a smile, his eyes wandering down my form in a quick once-over. “You look nice.”

I suppose this is probably the first time he’s seen me dressed up. Clara neglected to inform me of the color I’m meant to wear for dinner tonight, but I’m instantly grateful I chose this little black cocktail dress that shows off my body when Niko’s heated gaze drops again to admire it, as if he can’t resist going in for a second peek.

“Thanks, you don’t look half bad yourself,” I reply as I appraise him, a blush rising to my cheeks. “Are you boys all done working?”

“We are, your husband’s just finishing up on a call,” Niko answers, stepping toward me as I begin gravitating in his direction. “Sorry for keeping you from dinner.”

I wave a hand dismissively. “No trouble, I’m not even that hungry. Had a big lunch.”

It’s not even a lie; I ate every bite of the stroganoff Clara prepared. If she keeps making my favorites like she has been lately, I’m going to have trouble suppressing my appetite.

“Well then maybe I should apologize to your husband for keeping him from you ,” Niko muses, the corner of his mouth lifting in a playful smirk.

“He manages that just fine on his own,” I mumble.

Niko shrugs a shoulder. “He’s a busy man.”

“Too busy for his wife, it seems,” I sigh, the vodka coursing through my bloodstream loosening my lips. The taste of it is still on them when I wet them with my tongue, my heels clicking against the marble tile underfoot as I bridge the remaining distance between us. Niko’s posture stiffens as I reach up to brush my fingertips along the lapel of his suit, peering up at him demurely through my lashes and whispering, “If only someone could whisk me away…”

Rather than taking the bait like I hope he will, Niko flinches away from my touch, his pale blue eyes widening in alarm. “Are you trying to get us both killed?” he hisses under his breath, his panicked gaze darting past me, back and forth.

Shit, he’s afraid of my husband, too.

In an act of sheer desperation, I step in close again, reaching for his hand and clutching it tightly in both of mine. “Please, Niko,” I rasp, staring up at him pleadingly. “I’ll do anything you want if you help me get out of here. Anything. ”

He yanks his hand away as if he’s been burned, showing me his palms as he backs away. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Volkov, but you’ve got the wrong idea here. My loyalty is to your husband.”

“Right answer.”

My blood turns to ice in my veins the moment Roman’s harsh voice cuts through the air. My heart trips over its valves, lungs seizing in panic as I twist around to meet his cold, soulless eyes. I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out, true fear gripping me like a noose when I realize it’s not Roman I’m looking at. It’s Mr. Hyde.

“Niko, you can go,” he bites out, his voice an eerie, sinister monotone. His stare stays locked with mine as he adds, “I need some time alone with my wife .”

My throat tightens, a wave of nausea rolling through me as Niko abruptly turns on a heel and heads straight for the back door like the good soldier he is, leaving me alone to dance with the devil.

I thought he could be my way out of here. I hoped he was a better man than the one I married.

I was wrong.

At the sound of the door snicking closed behind Niko, I finally find my voice, grasping for some way to explain away what Roman just saw. “I wasn’t… I didn’t…” I stammer, feebly trying to come up with some passable excuse, but my husband just calmly holds up a hand, silencing my pathetic display.

“It seems you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” he murmurs, taking a threatening step in my direction.

I flinch, retreating a step to maintain the distance between us and shaking my head. “No, you don’t understand…”

He takes another step forward, and I take another back.

“I was testing him,” I say, my mind working overtime to piece together the lie. “I’ve seen the way he looks at me, and the two of you work so closely…”

Another step forward. Another back.

“I wanted to test his loyalty, make sure you could trust him,” I rush out, drawing a sharp gasp as my back meets the hard surface of the built-in bookshelves, my stomach flipping.

Roman eats up the remaining space between us in two long strides, slapping his hands against the shelves at either side of my shoulders, caging me in with his massive build. My throat bobs with a hard swallow, my voice shaky as I continue.

“I did it for us , Roman,” I breathe, reaching up to cup his jaw. I’m acting my ass off right now, my thumb caressing his cheek as I gaze into his eyes adoringly.

His lips slowly curve into a smile, and that’s when I know I’ve failed. It’s not a pleasant or reassuring smile. It’s the type of smile that promises pain; the kind I imagine the grim reaper would wear while collecting his victims.

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as he shifts his hands from the shelves to the sides of my body, the bandage on his left hand tickling my skin as he trails both down to rest on the curve of my waist. “Oh, pet,” he tuts, shaking his head. “What pretty lies you spin.”

I yelp as his fingers tighten around my middle, and before I can even blink, he’s spinning me around, hauling me back against his chest and dragging me toward the patio door. I scream as loud as I can, kicking and thrashing as he manhandles me over the threshold and out onto the lawn.

The crisp night air bites at my exposed skin, my useless screams echoing in the eerie silence of the night. There’s nobody around to hear them; nobody coming to rescue me. I should’ve known better than to cross Roman. It was a desperate, impulsive move– one that’s sure to cost me my life.

He leans down, his warm breath fanning my neck as he murmurs into the shell of my ear. “Since you seem to be confused as to who owns you, we’re going to play a little game to help you remember.” His grip around me suddenly slackens, arms falling to his sides as he whispers, “run.”

I take off like a bat out of hell, kicking off my heels and sprinting barefoot across the damp grass. I have no idea where I’m even headed, just that I need to run for my goddamn life. Adrenaline floods my veins as my legs pump faster, lungs seizing with the effort and throat burning with every labored breath.

When I come upon the hedge maze, it’s a split-second decision that has me darting inside, feet slapping against the dirt path as I disappear between the rows of towering shrubbery. This place is disorienting enough in the daylight, but at night, the shadows cast by the pale glow of the moon make it damn near impossible to navigate. The vodka I just drank on an empty stomach probably doesn’t help, either. I almost run straight into a hedge before I manage to skid around the corner, my heart thundering in my chest as I twist and weave my way deeper into the maze.

I’m hyperventilating so much that I start to get lightheaded, my steps slowing as I search for a dark corner to hide out in and catch my breath. Slinking into a shadowed alcove, I press a hand against my chest, willing my pulse to slow as I listen intently for any sign of Roman’s pursuit. It’s difficult to hear anything over the sound of the blood pumping in my ears, though, and the eerie silence sets my teeth on edge.

The snap of a twig behind me has me jerking away from the corner in alarm, whipping around to blink through the darkness. I press a hand over my mouth to quiet the sound of my own breathing, but then another twig snaps, sounding like it’s right on the opposite side of the hedge.

I take off running again, and this time, I’m certain there’s another set of footsteps echoing behind me. Terror tightens my throat at every corner, part of me knowing that it’s only a matter of time before I turn one and find Roman waiting there. I run and run until my lungs feel like they’re about to burst, then tuck into another dark alcove to catch my breath again, trembling with fear as I strain my ears to listen for the shadow of death hunting me.

The rustle of leaves sends me sprinting for my life again. I have no idea whether it’s Roman or just the wind, but I’m worked up into such a panic at this point that I can’t tell the difference between reality and my own wild imagination. The branches catch on my clothes and scrape my skin as I bump into the hedges, stumbling over my feet as I twist around each corner.

Light suddenly comes into view up ahead and for a fleeting, desperate second, I think I’ve found the end of the maze. I put forth a last burst of energy, even as I hear the pounding footsteps behind me start to close in. Even as I burst out of the hedge maze to find that I’m right back where I fucking started.

There’s no time to mourn my failure. I hook a right, feet sliding in the wet grass as I run past the maze in the direction of the forest beyond. My tangled hair twists around my face as the breeze kicks up, but I don’t even feel the cold anymore. My entire body’s burning with adrenaline, running purely on vodka and the instinct to survive.

The gravestones of the family cemetery plot cast ghoulish shadows over the ground as I stumble past them, desperate to get to the thick cover of trees beyond. The single-minded pursuit of escape gives me tunnel vision. I’m not paying enough attention to the ground beneath my feet, so I’m completely unprepared when it suddenly gives way, my foot hooking over a soft edge carved into the earth and sending me tumbling downwards. My shriek pierces the air as I rapidly descend into a dark hole, the air punching from my lungs when I land on the cold, hard ground.

The fall is so disorienting that it takes me a second to even realize what happened. Pain shoots through my body from the force of the impact, a feeble groan slipping from my throat as I roll onto my side, curling in on myself. I gasp for breath, gently wiggling my fingers and toes before moving onto my limbs, testing them for any sign of serious injury.

By some miracle, nothing feels like it’s broken– just bruised to hell. I groan at the effort it takes to roll over and push up to stand, blinking chaotically as I swivel my gaze around and finally take stock of my surroundings. Terror chokes my throat at the realization that it’s not just a random sinkhole I stumbled into. It’s a fucking grave.

Six feet deep and rectangular, there’s no mistaking what this is. The dirt walls around me feel like they’re closing in, the pain in my body instantly forgotten as adrenaline overtakes me again. I rush forward to claw at the loose dirt, desperately searching for a handhold I can use to climb up and out.

My heart stutters in my chest at the sound of scuffling footsteps from above, a shadow falling over me as Roman approaches the edge of the grave.

“When we said ‘til death do us part, I didn’t know you’d take it so literally,” he chuckles, the toes of his expensive shoes hanging over the edge as he peers down at me through the inky darkness.

My hands tremble as I raise them in the air, slowly backing away. “Roman, please,” I croak.

He crouches down, cocking his head to the side. “Please what , pet?”

“Please don’t kill me,” I whisper.

A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, forest green eyes twinkling with amusement as he arches a brow. “Now why would I do that?”

He’s just toying with me now, batting my emotions around like a cat with a mouse.

“I’m sorry, okay?” I choke out, tears springing to my eyes. “You win. I’m yours. I promise I won’t try to leave, I promise I’ll be a good wife for you. Please …”

Roman swings his weight forward, gripping onto the edge of the grass as he hops down into the grave with me. I flinch when the soles of his feet hit the ground with a soft thud, the man landing as gracefully as a panther before brushing his palms together and straightening to his full height. “You want to be good for me, pet?” he asks with a lift of his chin, his predatory stare burning into me.

“Yes,” I breathe, head bobbing up and down frantically.

“Yes what ?”

“ Yes, Sir .”

His lips curve in a satisfied grin. “ Good girl .”

Roman’s praise washes over me like an aphrodisiac, heat licking up my spine from the potency of those two simple words.

He lifts a hand, crooking a finger to beckon me. “Come here.”

My feet shuffle against the dirt on their own accord, carrying me toward my damnation. I tilt my head back to maintain eye contact as I draw closer, not coming to a stop until we’re toe to toe.

My husband gazes down at me with a sinister promise in his eyes, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair away from my face. “Who do you belong to, Eliza?” he asks, the low, velvety rumble of his voice sending a fresh rush of heat surging through me.

“You,” I whisper.

He gives me a single nod, dragging the backs of his knuckles gently over my cheek. “Take your clothes off.”

Without a second’s hesitation, I reach for the hem of my dress, pulling it off over my head. Then I bring my hands behind my back to unfasten my bra, shrugging it down my arms and dropping it to the ground in front of me, followed by my panties. A shiver runs through me as I straighten to my full height, the cold air biting at my bare skin as I meet Roman’s penetrating stare once more.

“Now lie down,” he directs, tipping his head.

I suck in a breath as I step backwards, slowly lowering myself down to the cold dirt. Suppressing another shiver, I ease back, stretching my legs out in front of me and resting my head back against the ground, blinking up at my husband in quiet resignation.

“Play dead,” Roman commands.

A fresh spike of fear ricochets through me as I close my eyes, praying to a god I don’t believe in that I’ll live past this night. Despite it all, I somehow manage to quiet my mind, focusing on making my breaths as shallow as possible and not moving a muscle. I hear the clink of Roman’s belt, the rustle of his clothes.

“You make such a pretty corpse, pet,” he drawls, the earth beneath me gently vibrating with his footsteps as he circles my body. “You’re not any good to me dead though, are you?”

Am I supposed to answer, or keep playing dead?

After a few beats of silence, I cautiously blink my eyes open, startling when I find Roman crouched down beside me, his face hovering right above mine. I suck in a sharp gasp, a heady mix of terror and arousal flooding my bloodstream.

Jesus, some part of me is just as fucked up as he is. We both get off on my fear.

“No,” I answer, the word falling from my lips on a shaky breath.

He smirks as he reaches for my breast. His fingers close around my nipple, and I hiss through a wince as he pinches the hardened tip. “If you were dead, I wouldn’t get to see that look in your eyes that I’ve come to crave,” he drawls, pinching harder and twisting while I stifle a whimper. “That look you get when the pain starts to bleed to pleasure.”

My back arches, pussy pulsing at the rapturous shot of pain that zips through my body. My teeth sink into the cushion of my lower lip to bite back my moan, Roman’s eyes darkening in delight.

“You’re like a drug to me, Eliza,” he growls, releasing my nipple and trailing his calloused fingers down my belly. “So addictive that I’d have to bury myself here with you if there ever came a day when I couldn’t get another hit.” I cry out as his hand plunges between my thighs, fingers gliding through my wetness and circling my clit. “You’re addicted to the game too, aren’t you?” he muses, my thighs trembling as he works my clit expertly. “I think we should play another to punish you for acting out tonight. What do you think?”

“Y-yes,” I agree, both because I know that’s the only acceptable answer and because I’m willing to say just about anything to keep him touching me like he is.

“Good girl,” he groans, fingers moving faster, driving me closer to the brink of ruin. “I’m going to fuck you now, pet, and you’re going to enjoy every second of me claiming what’s mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” I cry, my back arching and toes curling.

“But you won’t get to come,” Roman adds darkly, abruptly halting his ministrations. He leans his face in closer, the tip of his nose brushing mine as he says, “I’m going to bring you to the edge, over and over, and just when you’re about to come, I’m going to pull you back. Again and again, until you’re begging for me to end your suffering and bury you in this grave.”

I open my mouth to protest, but then his fingers start moving against my clit again, my stomach swooping.

“And after I’m satisfied that you’ve been thoroughly punished, I’ll forgive your indiscretion with Niko and the way you tried to leave me,” he grits out, anger flashing in his eyes as he recounts the incident that led us here in the first place. He brings his other hand up to wrap around my throat, staring deeply into my eyes. “How does that sound, darling?”

My mouth hinges open, my thighs trembling. “Yes, okay,” I pant.

He pinches my clit in warning and my body seizes, my tangled thoughts tripping over my mistake.

“Yes, Sir !”

A low chuckle rumbles in Roman’s chest as he withdraws his fingers and pats my mound, my hips bucking up instinctively to chase his touch. “Oh, Eliza,” he groans, gazing down at me in sinister fascination. “You really are perfect for us.”

Before I can process the fact that he just actually acknowledged his alter-ego, he crawls over my body, shoving my thighs apart and tossing one of my legs up over his shoulder. Lining the broad tip of his cock up with my opening, he plunges inside, bottoming out in a single, brutal thrust. My muscles clench, a cry tearing from my throat at the sudden intrusion, but then his thumb lands on my clit and the pain instantly morphs to pleasure. He starts pistoning his hips, rutting into me savagely as the coil in my belly winds tighter.

I actually delude myself into thinking he’ll let me come, but the moment my climax is within reach, he abruptly withdraws his touch, slowing his thrusts to a languid pace while I squirm for relief and curse his name. My breathing gradually slows as Roman gently pumps his hips, the coil inside me unwinding.

“Bastard,” I grit out, sinking my fingernails into his muscular thighs.

Roman just chuckles darkly in response, sliding my leg off his shoulder. In one fluid motion, he grips my hips and rises up onto his knees, lifting my ass off the ground and pounding into me harder. This angle is torture to my g-spot and he knows it. Within seconds, I’m clawing at the dirt, hurtling toward a soul-sucking climax.

Right as I’m cresting the peak, he pulls out, my inner walls clenching on air as he flips me over and cracks his palm against my ass. “Hands and knees, pet.”

I yell out in frustration as I scramble to comply, his velvety tip gliding through my folds as soon as I push up from the ground. He spreads my slickness up to my ass, teasing the tight ring with the head of his cock before sliding it back down and thrusting into my pussy. The savage invasion steals the air from my lungs as he starts roughly fucking me from behind, his hands squeezing my cheeks, thumb moving inward to press against my back hole. A needy moan tumbles from my lips as he starts pushing the digit inside, my ass throbbing as he buries it up to the knuckle.

“Please, Roman,” I whine, rocking back against him to meet his greedy thrusts.

He grunts in dissatisfaction.

“Please, Sir ,” I correct.

He strokes a palm down my spine, slowing the movement of his hips. “Tell me what you need, pet.”

“I need to come,” I choke, my inner walls clenching around him. “Please, let me come.”

“Bad girls don’t get to come, Eliza,” he tuts.

I gasp as Roman suddenly pulls out, collapsing onto my elbows and screaming in frustration as he leaves me wanting yet again.

“You fucking asshole!” I spit, jerking my head sideways to cut him a glare over my shoulder, angry tears streaming down my cheeks.

“What was that, pet?” he mocks, the slick tip of his cock nudging my back hole. “You want my cock in your ass?”

I nod frantically, wincing at the pressure as he eases his hips forward. It hurt last time, but it also made me come. I need to come.

“Say it,” he growls.

“Please, fuck my ass!” I cry out shamelessly.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Roman chuckles, his fingers sinking into the flesh of my hips. He yanks me backwards, pulling me onto his thick cock.

I choke on air as his broad head breaches my resistance, my pain and pleasure receptors tangling in a twisted symphony of sensation as his dick glides deeper into my tight hole. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did last time; his shaft is practically dripping in the slickness of my arousal. He pauses when he’s halfway inside, granting me a brief moment to adjust before thrusting in further, my fingers curling into the dirt and my mouth falling open on a silent scream.

It shouldn’t feel so good for him to debase me like this, but I can’t deny my body’s reaction to his assault. Roman’s fingers dig bruises into my hips as he slides all the way home, his pelvis meeting my ass with a slap. I shudder an exhale, my body trembling with dark delight as he slowly pulses his hips. The moment he feels me relax into it, he ups his pace, arousal scorching through my veins as he starts ruthlessly fucking my ass.

His hand hooks under my hip, deft fingers finding my clit and resuming my torture. My throat is raw, my moans turning hoarse while tears track wet paths down my cheeks. I hate how responsive I am to his touch; how easily he can draw out my pleasure and how cruelly he can control it. But even more than that, I hate how much I want it; how much I crave his specific brand of torment.

Roman’s thrusts become frantic, his ragged breathing signaling that he’s close. I am, too, and there’s nothing I want more right now than for him to let me come.

“Please!” I beg, the pressure within me building until I can hardly bear it.

Roman snaps his hips forward with a roar, his cock pulsing inside my ass as he reaches his own climax. Heavy breaths saw from his lungs as he empties inside me, then slowly eases out, slapping my ass as I collapse to the ground in a sweaty, trembling heap beneath him.

Rage and indignation scorch my veins as I lie there panting to catch my breath, still wound up tight and hopelessly unfulfilled.

“You took that so well,” Roman murmurs, leaning over to stroke my hair back from my face. “Maybe I should let you come after all.”

A surge of hope flares to life in my chest as he rolls me to my back, rocking back on his knees and gazing down at me reverently.

“Would you like that, pet?”

“Please,” I whisper hoarsely, feebly lifting a hand and brushing my fingertips along the harsh line of his jaw. It may just be the desperate state I’m in, but I swear he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I crave this monster with every fiber of my being.

His lips pull back from his teeth in a menacing grin as he slides his hands up my thighs, spreading me wide. “Make a mess all over my face, beautiful girl,” he growls, green eyes glinting with delight as he dives in to feast on my pussy.

I bury my hands in his hair with a scream, back arching and head tipping back while he licks into me like a man starved. He tongues my clit, nipping it with his teeth savagely before suctioning his lips over the sensitive bud, driving me to the edge of bliss in a matter of seconds.

This time, he doesn’t stop. I careen over the cliff of release, freefalling into a life-altering climax. My body convulses as I gush all over his face, coming harder than I ever have in my entire fucking life. Roman laps up every drop like the ravenous beast he is, his stubble rasping against my inner thighs. It’s so intense that my vision tunnels, darkness threatening to take me under.

Roman’s name is on my lips as I give into the rapture of unconsciousness, eyes rolling back as I succumb to the dark.