Chapter 7 Kateřina
“Zkurveny parchant!” Fucking bastard! I scream, unable to control myself. Who does he think he is?
Oh, I know—he’s a fucking psycho with a fetish for trying to scare me off and then turn me on! I’m ashamed to admit, but he did turn me on.
I shouldn’t feel this way.
He’s a savage, a fucking kretén! I need to escape this place. I need to leave and go to the police. He’s dangerous, a monster. He’s the devil in the flesh.
He’s everything I hate—a barbarian. A caveman.
I let out a sharp sigh, realizing that no matter how much I think about it, nothing changes. Frustration takes over, and all I want to do is march out there and kick him in the nuts.
Ugh …
I’m all alone again.
After the anger fades away, I return to my harsh reality and realize I am doomed. I wish I hadn’t talked to him. I wish I hadn’t given him the right to think I am his property. I should have stayed with Kry?tof.
Or just away from Cain …
But how does he know about Kry?tof?
I was always prepared for being mistreated in the modeling industry, being misjudged and talked shit about. I never liked the idea, but it’s a part of the job. The job that my parents never wanted me to follow. Maybe they were right after all.
I never expected that someone would kidnap me. I believed that these things only happen in movies.
I am such a fool. I should play along and do what he says, and I know that soon enough, I will find an opportunity to escape. I want to. I have to.
I don’t know what to do. This room doesn’t even have a TV. I guess that’s on purpose. This bastard wants to cut me off from everything.
I let my eyes dart all over the place, trying to find something to do.
The unusual aspect of this room is that it’s designed in beige-sand tones, just like the bathroom, contrasting with the rest of the house, which is predominantly black with ebony furniture. I haven’t seen much of it, but I can tell that my room differs. I wonder why.
I look at the two identical doors and recall the immense closet hidden behind one of them.
He said that every piece of clothing there was bought specifically for me.
I suppose what I told him was true. He wants me to be his puppet and dress me the way he likes.
Although, I have to admit that his good taste in clothes is undeniable.
I won’t cave in.
I won’t go and take another peek.
That will only prove my point and make him happy.
I don’t want him to be satisfied. He doesn’t deserve it.
On the other hand, I can’t stay like this forever. I want to take a shower so badly.
I head hesitantly to the bathroom to see if there is warm water—and damn, the temperature and pressure are excellent. It’s tough for me to resist taking a hot shower after everything.
Fuck … I will do it. I take off my clothes and let them fall to the floor. I figure I can borrow a few of his clothes, since they were bought just for me. He won’t miss them, anyway.
Cautiously, I step under the hot water and let it fall on me, relaxing under its pressure.
It runs fast on my skin, washing away the tension and the filth of the day.
For a moment, the world outside fades, leaving only the sound of the water flowing and the calming warmth that surrounds me. I wish I could stay here forever.
Suddenly, I feel weird chills on my spine, as if I’m not here alone. Every inhale feels like a struggle. I am terrified again for no apparent reason.
Slowly, I turn my head, my heart racing as I scan the foggy bathroom.
And I see him.
Naked …
Frozen and scared, I swiftly turn around again, trying to cover myself. I instinctively cover my breasts with my arms.
What do I do now?
“What are you doing? Haven’t you heard of personal space?!” I ask sharply.
However, he doesn’t talk. He seems unbothered by my nervousness. What the fuck does he think he’s doing?
He takes the shampoo, pours some on his hand, and then gently applies it to my wet hair. His fingers move gently but firmly.
“What are you doing?” I ask again.
He leans in closer, just enough to touch his chest to my back, and brings his lips to my ear.
“You were too tense before, little rose,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my skin, causing goosebumps all over my body. “You need to relax.”
The shampoo smells like roses. This scent brings back the memory of his tongue carefully sliding over my lips. It brings back the memory of his taste.
His fingers are soft on my skin. The sensation is unexpectedly soothing, and for a moment, I forget everything else, closing my eyes and leaning slightly into his touch.
The soap glides all over my body, and the smell, along with his touch, brings me a sense of calmness.
His hands travel down to my shoulders and massage me. Why does part of me want this, even though I should push him away?
Am I so sick, after all?
His fingers move up, wrapping around my throat and gently pushing my head back till it rests on his shoulder.
My body gradually collides with his, and I can feel his hard cock between my ass cheeks. Is it so big?!
“Isn’t it better like this, Kate?ina?” His hot breath hammers against the sensitive skin on my neck. “Feeling powerless and horny under my touch?” His palm tightens around my throat.
My arms relax more, and I let them fall with no objection. His other hand creeps up my breasts, taking my erect nipples between his fingers one by one. Then, he moves his hand lower on my skin, eventually reaching the brink of my cleft.
Oh, God …
I can hear his teeth gritting and feel his breath hitching, sharp, right next to my ear.
“Remember what I told you this morning?” he whispers.
“To obey …” I say, my breathing quivering under his touch. I do feel powerless next to him, and that only makes my fear stronger.
He clasps my throat tighter. “Spread your legs for me.”
I do as he says. My clit is trapped between his fingers, and he begins circling it gently.
“You’re such a good girl, Kate?ina,” he hisses, rubbing me slowly, making me completely numb. My legs shake uncontrollably with pleasure. He knows what he’s doing.
“It’s not right.” A faint whisper escapes my lips, thinking it will make a difference. It doesn’t.
His fingers move quicker over my clit, evoking a loud groan from my lips.
“You’re mine.” With a quick move, he spins me around and pins my back against the cold brick wall. He grabs my throat again and shoves two fingers inside me. I’m shaking. I’m shaking from fear and pleasure—a feeling I have never experienced before.
He leans in, his wet skin colliding with mine, and presses me roughly against the wall. “Your body belongs to me. Your little pussy is mine,” he whispers menacingly in my ear again.
His fingers become more violent and curl inside me, finding just the right spot and sending electrifying shivers through me. My breath quickens, and an overwhelming rush of pleasure grows stronger and faster than I’ve ever felt.
No other man has ever reached me like this before. He sets my body on fire in ways I never imagined possible. Easily and effortlessly.
My eyes close from pleasure. God, it’s so good …
“Eyes on me, little rose,” he commands sternly, his intimidating voice sending even more shivers down my spine. I cannot disobey even if I want to.
My eyes open, and I look deeply into his.
My legs are shivering as my climax is close. I can feel it. I want it. I need it more than I ever have before.
I grab his sculpted shoulders and dig my nails into his skin, making his jaw clench. “F-Faster …” I mumble weakly. “P-please, don’t stop.”
“Come for me, hard, Kate?ina.”
Unable to suppress it, a loud moan escapes my lips. “Don’t stop!” I repeat.
His fingers curl more frantically, stroking my walls harder. My body tenses, my chest feels heavy, and my heart pounds.
What the hell was that feeling?
He looks so … satisfied. So sinister and evil. A wicked smirk spreads across his lips as he removes his fingers from me. He drives them into his mouth and licks them, tasting me.
His eyes close, and he exhales sharply, groaning with pleasure as if euphoria consumes him. His expression becomes more solemn yet evil. Scary.
Swiftly, he grips my face and leans in closer. “Your taste drives me insane,” he whispers, his chest rising unevenly. “Next time I see you, I’m not going to respect you. I am going to tear you apart until you’re begging me to stop.”
My jaw tightens as I glare into his dark green eyes intently. I feel the hate rising and simmering within me. “I don’t think so.”
He hums, clenching his teeth. I hate him. And I hate myself for caving to his touch.
He lets go of me and takes a step back, his eyes fixed on mine. His body is exactly the way I pictured it underneath his clothes. He’s lean and athletic, with a well-defined physique. His muscles are prominent, like those of a dancer. He looks strong. Very strong.
His chest is smooth and hairless, highlighting the definition of his muscles. A thin, dark blonde line of hair starts just below his belly button and trails down to his crotch, subtle but undeniably alluring.
He finally steps out of the shower. His upper back is almost covered with tattoos. Abstract designs, like claw marks, spread across his broad shoulder blades, ascending to his nape, not high enough to not be concealed by a turtleneck, hiding the essence of who he really is. Of what he really is …
For he is a monster. A true barbarian.
Cain
I march inside my bedroom, sighing heavily, trying to calm myself.
Bringing her to mind again makes it even harder for me to focus. Her sweet moans, the way her luscious lips struggled to keep shut and not beg for more. Oh, the way she shuddered into my hands. So powerless, so greedy.
Her scent is still lingering on my fingers, and I can’t keep them away from my lips to taste her again. That fucking turn-on scent I’ve craved for so long.
She smells like roses. She tastes like roses. So fresh and velvety.
I want more. I need more …
I step into the shower, needing to relive vividly what I made her go through. I need to hear her moans again, feel her quivering body tensing in my hands. Fuck, how weak she was.
The way she gasped when I pushed my fingers inside her. The heat of her. The way she tightened around me, losing fucking control because of me. She couldn’t stop herself from grinding against my hand, moaning like a needy little thing. Completely at my mercy.
I let the hot water drip on my skin as my hand rests against the tile wall. I don’t want it to rinse her flavor. I’m already hard again. Hard for her.
I grab my cock and groan at just the thought of her. My fingers are covered with precum as I stroke myself slowly, picturing that it’s she who’s teasing me. Fuck, this won’t last for long.
I can still feel the tremble of her body and the goosebumps on her skin. I can still hear her groans reverberating in my ears. Her greedy hands claw my skin, asking for more.
“Your little pussy belongs to me,” I mutter as I grip my cock harder into my palm.
My chest tightens and my pulse quickens as the image of her, desperately begging me to fuck her violently and ruin her the way I want, flashes across my mind.
I stroke myself faster, impatient for my climax. I close my eyes and see myself grabbing her hips and thrusting into her as she screams my name repeatedly. Like my little fuck-toy. My little whore.
“Fuck.” I groan, my muscles tightening as the idea consumes me. I speed up, stroking my cock more violently as I return my fingers to my mouth, savoring her little pussy one last time.
I move quickly and hard, letting out a growl as her name slips from my lips.
My breathing is shallow. My heart races faster than ever before.
She is mine. All mine.
And the next time I touch her, I’ll make sure she never forgets it.