Chapter 8
My eyes roll to the back of my head as he thrusts his finger inside me.
“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore,” he mutters against my lips. And then he’s gone. His lips, his finger, his warmth. Before I can start cursing him out again, I realize why. He’s unbuckling his belt. Finally.
“Finally,” I whisper, licking my lips in anticipation as his cock springs free. Massive. Veiny. Precum gushes out of the tip in a steady stream. It’s a testament to how hard up I am for him that I don’t even feel a twinge of nervousness. I just want him inside me already.
Running his hand down his length, Maksim squeezes the head tightly. To hold off his orgasm?
“Fuck, are you on birth control? I don’t have a condom with me.”
He’s barely done talking before I nod frantically. I’m on birth control. I always take the shot every three months. It’s the only thing that’s helped with my painful period.
“Good.”
Maksim stalks toward me, his eyes hungry with need and desire, and I eagerly open my arms to him. With one hand, he holds my thigh apart, while the other sinks into my hair, tenderly brushing aside loose strands of hair. Maybe the tender touch is why I’m shocked when he just shoves his hips forward.
His hot length fills me, invading my pussy so completely that I can only flutter helplessly around him. But I’m so wet from his constant teasing that I don’t feel any pain. He slides in easily, twisting his hips at just the right angle, nudging a point inside me that sets everything on fire.
“Fuck, yes! Fuck me, daddy,” I moan, clamping myself around him. Maksim shudders as he withdraws, then shoves himself back into me. In this position, he’s so deep, so deep I swear I can feel him at the back of my throat.
“Your pussy is strangling the cock of a man you’re not attracted to, Myshka. What do you have to say about that?” he grunts, grabbing my hips to yank me even further into his cock.
My brain short circuits and words just spill out of my mouth unchecked. “Please, daddy. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.”
He groans and starts fucking into me. I have to hold on to him for dear life when my ass starts sliding back on the desk. His hand on my hair softly trails down my face and around my neck.
“You’re calling me daddy too easily, little girl. Are you sure you have no daddy issues?”
Before I can reply, his hand forms a chain around my neck, and he tightens his grip so hard it blocks my airflow. I’m so fucking twisted because the burning of my chest that comes with the loss of air only sends my pleasure spiraling into higher heights. I climb up and up. I’m almost scared of what will happen when I crash.
“You love it.” There’s a note of disbelief and awe in his voice. “How much more can you take?” he wonders, tightening his grip on my neck. My vision winks out, and I part my lips, desperate for air, but I don’t fight him.
“Look at you. You’re going to cum, aren’t you?” He sounds like he’s stumbled upon something he’s been searching for his whole life. “Come then, Myshka. Cum for daddy.”
He releases my throat, and the combination of his words and precious oxygen rushing through my lungs flings me off the cliff. I shout his name, my core clenching so hard I almost push his cock out of me as I cum and cum and cum.
He snarls my name into my hair, and that”s the only warning I get before my insides are bathed in the warmth of his cum. Afterward, my body sinks limply into his as he strokes my back soothingly. I slowly come to, realizing I’m shaking. Fuck, that was so intense.
I’ve never had sex this good before in my life.
Fuck, what if I get attached to him? Sex this good can mess with a girl’s head. And all that daddy stuff certainly doesn’t help matters. Initially, I called him that to tease him, but it started to feel so natural, even nice—I liked it. So, I kept calling him that. Fuck, what is wrong with me?
I stiffen in his arms and push him away. He steps back, taking his cock with him. I wince at the loss, and for a few seconds, my cunt clutches on thin air. We both watch as his cum drips from my pussy to the desk. His cock—how is that damn thing still erect?—twitches with need, and his eyes darken.
I snap my legs shut, which lifts his dark gaze up to mine. He watches me for a few seconds, taking me in. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around myself. I glance across the room and finally find my dress in a corner of the desk. But as I try to stand, my knees buckle, and if Maksim hadn’t grabbed me, I would have sunk to the floor. Shit.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes, I’m fine, damn it!” I snap and wrest my arm from his hand. I turn my back on him, quickly make my way to my dress, and tug it on, but it doesn’t help. I feel exposed. Vulnerable. Fuck, why did I call him daddy? And why did I admit that I wanted him? I said things I shouldn’t have.
When I face Maksim again, he’s dressed—not that he ever got fully naked. He only took off his pants earlier. His face is closed off, and he looks composed. Not like someone who just had transcendent sex. Fuck. Was it just me then? Does this happen to him on a regular basis?
“From now on, you’re banned from attending any more lectures with Bree,” he says, and my heart stops. If I ever had the delusion that what just happened between us meant anything, he’s successfully squashed it.
“What? No way! I’m going to keep attending as long as Bree wants me to.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him.
He sighs regretfully. “You seem to be mistaken about something, Cecilia. You’re not going to see my niece again, not until I know everything there is to know about you. Not until I can guarantee you aren’t a threat to her.”
Stupidly, the first thing I notice is that he called me by my name. He’s never done that when we’re alone. But then his words sink in. Never see Bree again? “Fuck you,” I snap, spinning away from him. I am so done with this fucker.
I march rigidly toward the door but can’t resist throwing a parting shot at him, “I wonder what Bree would think if I told her how you cornered me in this study and then fucked my brains out, huh?”
He stiffens at my words, and I smirk, turning back to open the door. But the handle doesn’t budge. The smirk falls off my face when I realize it’s locked. Fuck, I didn’t even notice him locking it when he walked in earlier.
“What did you do?” I growl angrily, spinning back around to glare at him.
“You’re not to see my niece again.”
My stomach drops, and my heart sinks as I realize he means it. If I can’t stay with Bree, not only will I essentially be homeless, but I’ll be the homeless girl that a dangerous man is searching for. A homeless girl with no money, nothing. In other words, I’m fucked.
“I’m not going to hurt Bree. You know that, Maksim,” I plead with him. “That’s the last thing I want.”
“Maybe so,” he agrees. “But by your own admission, someone you fear even more than me is searching for you. Eventually, that search will lead them to Bree, and what do you think will happen then?”
I gulp.
He’s right, of course. But if only he knew what I was really running from.
My ex.
But my ex isn’t any regular ex. And that’s not just because he left me at the altar. Sooner or later, he’ll realize I’ve been hiding in plain sight next to Bree Kilpatrick. But Bree is practically untouchable. Daughter of a fearsome mobster, cousin to the new king of the entire American underworld. Niece to powerful dons. She’s nearly invincible, and even my crazy ex would know that. He would never touch her… not unless he’s truly lost his mind. Me, though, I’m a nobody. I’m fair game to him.
My limbs turn to jelly as the gravity of what’s about to happen becomes clear. I rest against the wall and slowly sink into the floor. I am so fucked. My mind whirls as I try to think of what to do. Bree was my only plan.
“You’re not to go near my niece again,” Maksim repeats, but I’m barely listening to him. “Instead, you’ll come with me to an apartment of my choosing. I’ll station guards around the perimeter so you can’t try to run away and—”
“What?” My head snaps up. “What are you talking about?” He’s going to give me an apartment to stay in?
“Essentially, Cecilia, you’re my captive now. There’s no escape for you.”
I glare at him, “You can’t do that to me. I’m a person. How do you expect me to survive in an apartment with no food or water?”
Maksim walks toward me, all the while undoing his tie. Shit. He didn’t even take his tie off while he fucked me. “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way,” he says, holding the tie loosely in his hand. “Get up.”
I narrow my eyes on him, heart racing as I do as I’m told. “Give me your hands,” he demands. Said hands form fists by my sides. He smirks and grabs my hands. I don’t fight him as he tightly ties the silk material around my wrists. Then he unlocks the door.
“Shall we?”
If he’s expecting me to put up a fight, then he must be out of his mind. “How long do you plan on holding me hostage?” I ask as he pushes me into the back of a Lincoln.
He whispers something in Russian to his driver, then gets in beside me, pulling up the privacy partition. The car starts with a purr, and we’re off.
“As long as it takes for me to find out everything about you,” he finally answers. “Or you could save us the time and effort and just tell me everything yourself.”
“Never,” I say with feeling.
“Then it looks like you’re going to be my captive for however long I want.” He takes his phone out of his suit pocket and starts typing furiously.
I cross my arms over my chest and glance out the window. “Aren’t you going to blindfold me? Isn’t that what bad guys do to their kidnapped victims?”
“Blindfolding the victim means the kidnapper is going to let the victim go alive and doesn’t want to risk them coming back with the cops,” he says, still typing away on his phone.
My stomach drops.
What does that mean? That he doesn’t plan to let me go alive or what? I gulp, but I’ve already decided I’m going to go along with this. I won’t let his threats dissuade me.
Right about now, he’s probably getting in touch with that bastard Vincent and telling him not to let me get close to Bree again. So where does that leave me?
I shudder at the possibilities. My ex. Homelessness. Countless other horrors. It’s a no-brainer that I’m choosing to stay with Maksim.
He said he’ll provide me with an apartment. Security. Which means I won’t have to battle the elements out there or the creeps crawling around NYC.
Looks like Maksim’s got himself a ‘captive’.
Jokes on him though, because my prison is my safe tower.
The prison is a beautiful three-story, red brick townhouse in Brooklyn Heights. I even have my own private chef and everything. Guess I’m not going to starve after all. I love it here.
“Behave.” That’s the last word Maksim growled at me before stalking back out of the apartment and leaving me alone—after introducing me to the house staff, of course.
That was a week ago.
Since then, I’ve discovered that he dropped a black credit card for me to use, so I could get ‘essential’ items. At first, I told myself I wasn’t going to use it. But then, the first day went by. The second day. The third day, and my resolve weakened. By the fourth day, I was ready to make my escape, consequences be damned. It felt like I was going crazy.
No matter how big and luxurious the apartment is, a prison is still a prison, and I miss the outside world. Even if you own a pet, you occasionally take them out for walks, damn it.
On the fifth day, I came up with a brilliant plan to lure Maksim back to the townhouse. I went online and splurged on some expensive designer clothes and shoes worth over a hundred grand. I actually winced as I clicked ‘pay’.
Did it work?Nope. But my clothes arrived yesterday, and I loved them, so a win is a win, I guess.
I twirl around in front of the floor-length mirror in my bedroom, admiring my leather pants and silk top. Expensive shit, but worth every penny. My phone pings with a text, and I make my way to the large king-size bed.
It’s Bree.
Despite not seeing each other, we’ve been keeping in touch. She thinks her uncle suspects something is up with me, hence my isolation. She’s promised to wear him down, and according to her messages, she’s been nagging him every day during their lessons.
Bree K:
Cece, Uncle Maks says we’ll move on to firearms for tomorrow’s lessons.
She’s also been keeping me up to date on their lessons by sending me passages from her book and other stuff. Bree doesn’t know exactly what’s going on with me, but she knows enough to understand that I’m running from someone in my past.
Firearms? Unlike the weak points Maksim has been teaching Bree, firearms are not something I can learn from textbooks. That shit is practical knowledge and incredibly valuable, especially to someone like me.
I need to be at that lesson.