Chapter 19
EVELINA
It’s dark when I open my eyes. My pulse feels a little elevated, and a tingle hums through my body.
A lingering flush.
A fluttering between my legs.
The house is utterly still, and consciousness is still filtering into my brain as I glance at the clock on the bedside table. Why am I awake at two in the morning?
Warm air teases over my bare skin—
What the hell?
I’m suddenly very alert as I sit up a little and look down at myself.
The t-shirt I went to sleep in is now hiked up over my breasts. My sleep shorts and panties are pulled down to my knees, my legs are splayed.
Was I…touching myself in my sleep?
Then I peer at myself in the darkness.
There’s…something wet on me.
Splattered across my breasts, my stomach, and all over my pussy and thighs.
I hesitantly bring a hand to my stomach, shivering when my fingers slide through the warm, viscous fluid streaked in long lines across my skin.
I rub some between my fingers, peering at it as I bring my hand closer.
Oh. My. GOD.
A tremor rips through my body, my hand jerking away from my face.
It’s cum.
For half a second, I’m in total, frozen shock. My mouth falls open, and I just stare at the glistening cum on my fingertips, then down to the splatters of it all over my body.
A voice inside screams at me to, well, scream.
To be horrified.
To be furious at the man who did this to me. I know exactly who it was, and not just because there’s only one person I can think of who would be deranged enough to break into this fortress of a house to do this.
I know because he’s left me a calling card.
A black Bauta mask painted with ornate venom-green filigree sits at the foot of the bed, staring at me.
I don’t scream.
I don’t feel the nauseating embrace of horror and revulsion I know I should. And when I shiver, it’s not because I feel sick or violated.
Rather, my pulse quickens. My core clenches, and my nipples, glistening with Vaughn’s cum, tighten to points as my breath catches.
I know I should be calling this “assault”. But as much as I try to push my thoughts in that direction, they refuse to comply. Just like the electricity refuses to stop zipping over my skin.
The throb between my legs doesn’t go away. And when I feel my insides liquify, I’m helpless to stop my hands from slowly returning to my body.
I shudder as my fingers trace slow circles through the cum. The skin beneath my fingertips heats, and a shaky gasp tumbles from my throat.
Then, when my hands slide up to cup my breasts and my thumbs glide over the stickiness coating my nipples, the gasp transforms, becoming low.
Becoming broken and needy.
Becoming a moan.
I’m helpless to stop it from bubbling out as my body writhes slowly on the bed. I pinch my nipples, whimpering as I rub the sticky fluid into them, sending more electricity sparking through my core.
My body heats, my thighs shaking as my fingertips trace over my belly, then lower.
A desperate, needy sound chokes from my throat when my fingers glide over the pools of sticky white cum on my pussy. My fingers slip through it, and I cry out as I let one finger delve between my lips.
Oh God…
My back arches off the sheets as my fingers roll over my throbbing clit, and the achy groan resonates in my throat.
I start to rub faster, my face caving at the sheer depravity of massaging his cum into my swollen clit as my hips roll. My other hand squeezes my breasts, roughly twisting my sticky, wet nipples as I turn my head to moan into the pillow.
Vaughn was here.
While I slept.
He broke into my home, pulled my clothes off, and…
I sink a finger into my pussy, gasping as I curl it deep against my front wall. I can feel Vaughn’s cum dripping and sliding over my skin like a staked claim, leaving hot trails across my body as I rub my clit faster and pinch my nipples harder.
My knees begin to shake as I add a second finger, pushing them deep into my pussy, starting to grind my clit against my palm.
He was here.
He took my clothes off and did God-knows-what to me while I slept, which is supremely fucked up.
Deranged.
Criminal.
So why are you close to coming right now?
My moans grow louder and more broken, my body shuddering and shaking as I grind my pussy harder against the heel of my hand. My other hand slips up to my neck and through the cum drying there before I slide it over my jaw toward my mouth. My lips wrap around a slick, sticky finger.
…And my body shatters.
I cry out, my hips jerking and shaking as I start to come. Slickness squirts against my hand, and I moan loudly as I suck the cum from my fingers.
His cum.
His claim.
His reiteration that we’re not done.
My hand keeps rubbing my pussy, my body writhing as I groan around the finger in my mouth. Suddenly, I come again.
What is wrong with me?
I’m broken. Deranged. In genuine need of psychiatric help.
…Because I desperately crave more.
“I—I’m doing my best. It’s not like I can just ask—”
“Your best, Ms. Nikitin,” the man on the other end of the line growls icily, “is proving to be not good enough.”
My fingers tighten on the phone as I listen to Joaquin, Diego’s second-in-command.
“Get Senor Torvallés what he asked for,” he finishes. “Or there will be consequences.”
The line goes dead. I take a shaky breath.
It’s been almost three weeks since the initiation.
The first time Vaughn went radio silent on me, after that night where he took my virginity and my sanity in the graveyard, I felt abandoned. Even when I tried to tell myself how absurd that was, or how childish it was to be upset that someone who was clearly a casual hookup wasn’t calling me.
But Vaughn’s disappeared for longer this time, and I don’t have the same feelings of self-doubt.
Not because I’ve conquered my emotional vulnerabilities or pulled up my big-girl panties.
Because I know he’s not really gone.
Vaughn hasn’t officially spoken to me in the ten days since the night of the party at Sebastian’s penthouse, where he hauled me into the powder room and, for lack of a better way to put it, turned me into his eager, submissive slut.
And yet he has seen me since that evening, five times.
While I’m sleeping.
The next time it happened was two days after the night I woke up with his cum all over my body. He left my face decorated, and I slowly awoke to the feel of him dripping down my cheeks and sliding over my tongue.
Same as before, my shirt was pulled up and my shorts and panties were down at my knees. This time, though, I knew he’d done more than look. From the slight soreness between my legs and my own arousal smeared over my upper thighs, I'm pretty sure he had his fingers in me.
The third and fourth times, too.
But the fifth time, just the other night, I know he tried to have full penetrative sex with me. Tried but didn’t, because there’s no way in hell he could put that dick inside me and not have its sheer size wake me instantly.
But something a lot bigger than fingers had been inside me. Plus, his cum was all over my pussy and dripping liberally from between my lips.
The rational part of me has been taking a backseat role the last couple of weeks. But she’s still there, screaming at me to wake up and realize how messed up this is.
A man I’m not in a relationship with is somehow breaking into my bedroom almost every night, exposing my body to his gaze, touching me, and using me before leaving his cum all over me and…disappearing.
The rational part of me wants to scream words like “assault” or “rape”.
And yet, I refuse to let those words define what this is, because they’re not the right ones to describe this vicious, depraved game.
The absence of that word is your implied consent.
He might still be ignoring me. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t call him and leave a voice message with my safe word. Or I could text it to him, and this madness would stop.
But I haven’t.
And the longer this goes on, the more unsure I am that I ever will.
“Evie!”
I turn, blushing a little when I see Val jogging down the alley behind the Mercury Theater to catch up to me, his heavy dance bag slung over his broad shoulder.
“I need to apologize,” he sighs, frowning. “I mean, for earlier this morning.” His face twists. “Fuck, I can tell you’re weirded out. Evie, I am so fucking sorry. We both seriously thought you’d already left. I know that’s no excuse.”
For a second, I almost laugh.
Val thinks my face is heated right now because I walked into the kitchen two hours ago to find him totally naked except for heavy firefighter’s boots and a matching hat, pouring two cups of coffee. At least he was facing away from me.
But that’s not why I’m blushing right now.
No, I’m blushing because it’s impossible for me to face my friend these days without remembering that his older brother has been sneaking into my room at night to touch me, expose me, and come all over my body.
I quickly shake my head, smiling awkwardly. “It’s fine.”
“It’s really not,” he frowns. “It’s your house. I’m just an…interloper.”
I roll my eyes. “Val, you’re not an interloper. You’re the reason Roman smiles now and doesn’t drink anymore.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do.”
He grins at me. “Still no reason to walk around your house like a stripper.”
I wink impishly. “The question is… Did you put the fire out?”
Instantly, I’m covering my face in mortification as Val’s jaw drops, his eyes dancing. “Evelina Nikitin!” he hoots. “Was that a fucking sex joke?! From you?!” He flinches dramatically, looking up at the clouds in mock horror.
“What's wrong?”
“Just checking to see if the sky is falling,” he says, smirking.
I roll my eyes. “Ha ha ha. I make jokes all the time.”
“Not with innuendo, though—” His brow lifts sharply as his jaw drops open.
“What?”
“Are… Are you getting laid, Evie?”
My face bursts into flames. “What?!” I blurt. “No!” I gulp, shuddering. “No! Obviously not. Definitely not.”
Technically, that’s true. Not since the bathroom at Sebastian’s party, at least.
“Definitely not what?”
Milena comes traipsing up the alley behind us, also lugging her dance bag.
“Evelina just told a dick joke,” Val grins. “And I was speculating if that meant she’s finally taken a lover.”
Milena snorts and rolls her eyes. Then she turns and gives me a surprised look. “Wait, you told a dick joke?”
“I—”
Val barges in, telling her the whole sorry tale.
“Dude, wear pants in that house!” Milena chastises him. “Our sweet Evie doesn’t need to see your balls in her kitchen!”
Val grins sheepishly. “I’m truly sorry.”
I sigh heavily. “It’s fine. Really. I didn’t see anything except for your bum—”
“You’re welcome.”
Milena cuffs Val upside the head.
“But even if I had…guys…” I shake my head. “I’m not going to fall apart just because I see a dick, okay?”
The two of them exchange a “look”, then their conversation quickly devolves into backstage gossip.
Apparently Miguel, another of the male dancers in the Zakharova, has just split up with his long-time girlfriend, and may or may not be hooking up with Kelsey, one of the newer members of the corps de ballet.
I'm struggling to keep up when my phone dings with a text.
Gabriella
Hey girl! Want to arrive together tonight? I was thinking 10:30.
My brow furrows.
Me
Arrive?
Gabriella
The party at the Moon Room in midtown. I think it’s going to get wild :p.
Thanks for the invitation, Vaughn.
I almost make up some lame excuse, but then decide to just tell her.
Me
I wasn’t invited :(
Me
But have fun!
Gabby texts back immediately.
Gabriella
Are you fucking serious?? It’s another Adept-Acolyte party. Pretty sure your Adept HAS to invite you. Like, he’ll definitely be there himself.
Me
Well, he didn’t. But it’s fine. I have conditioning after rehearsal today. I’ll be ready for the couch and pjs lol.
Gabriella
Not happening. Sorrynotsorry.
I grin.
Gabriella
You can be my date if your Adept sucks enough that he didn’t mention it. Fuck it, let’s have fun tonight. Dress slutty. I’ll pick you up at 10.
Me
lol I don’t know…
Gabriella
SO SLOOOOOTY. We’re making boys do stupid shit tonight.
I grin and slip my phone away. When I look up, I realize Val has already gone inside but Milena is still in the alley with me.
She’s looking at me sternly, cocking a brow like she’s studying me.
“What?” I mumble.
“Are you sleeping with someone?” she asks quietly, a grin on her face.
My face throbs. “What? No!”
Liar liar pants on fire.
She laughs. “I didn’t think so. But I am curious why you’re suddenly saying words like dick.”
I roll my eyes. “Because I’m a grownup?”
She gives me a look.
“It’s just historically not a word that’s part of your vocabulary,” she says pointedly. “And it makes me wonder what’s up with you.”
I chew on my bottom lip. “Nothing is up with me.”
She nods. “All right. But if there is, you know I’m always here.” She glances at the time on her phone. “Shit, we should get inside.”
We’re heading for the dressing rooms when I clear my throat.
“Milena?” I say quietly. “How, uh…” I groan. “Never mind. Forget it.”
“Not happening.”
She gently takes my shoulders and peers at me. “C’mon, Evie. Talk to me.”
I flush. “Say…say there’s a guy…”
She beams widely but stays silent.
“And…we’re going to be at the same party, and I want to get his attention…”
She frowns pensively. “Total stranger?”
I shake my head.
“So, you’ve talked before.”
Look at you taking my cock, princess. Look at what a whore you are, cum dripping off your face while you get fucked like a cheap slut.
I nod. “Uh…yup.”
“And now he’s giving you the cold shoulder?”
I scowl, looking down at my hands. “Umm…sort of.”
Milena’s face darkens. “Then you tell your girl Milena who he is so I can go cut the motherfucker.”
I giggle. “What if I don’t want to resort to physical violence quite yet?”
She shrugs. “Easy. Make him jealous.”
I frown. “How?”
“You know, flirt with another guy in front of him. Bring a date to an event he’s at. Petty shit like that.” She grins. “I’m not saying it’s classy, but it is effective.”
I nod thoughtfully. “Okay…thanks.”
“You’re not going to tell me who it is, are you?”
My face burns. “Probably not.”
She sighs. “He’s not made up, is he? Because, honey, I love you, but that would get real sad real fast—”
“He’s not imaginary,” I laugh.
My core tightens.
The bruises on my skin tingle.
“Trust me. He’s real.”