Chapter 5
Chapter five
Catarina
God, that felt so good, but also…it was so wrong. Why the hell did I let myself feel so good?
I open my eyes to see Matysh, positioned at my entrance. My heart jumps to my throat.
Please just do it. Get it over with.
When I was with Mikhail, he practically begged me for this before marriage, but I was determined to obey my father—and because of that, I now have to let his monster of a brother do it.
The guilt is damn suffocating right now.
This should have been me and Mikhail on our wedding night.
But the thoughts don’t make sense as there’s a very big... distraction in front of me now. Big barely describes it. Matysh was already intimidating before I saw his dick. It’s so damn huge, hard, and thick that I know it will hurt me when he penetrates.
But as disgusted as I am with myself… I want it so bad right now.
Matysh leans down and takes one of my breasts in his mouth. I gasp from the sensation.
“Oh God,” I moan, running my fingers through his hair. This feels like the right thing to do with my hands—use them to hold his head close to me so he can’t pull away. His tongue flicks over my nipple and it feels so damn good.
He parts my legs more with his knees, pulling his mouth away from me as he stares at the small gap between our bodies. “Ready, ogonyok (Little Flame)?”
I nod my head, closing my eyes and biting my lip hard. I’m expecting the pain at any moment. I don’t know what it’ll feel like. I’ve heard countless stories from other people and from movies.
When Matysh actually presses himself against me, sliding the tip of his cock inside, my eyes jolt open and I gasp. Every muscle in my body tenses and I feel a sharp pain as my pussy stretches around him.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
“Chertovski tugo (Damn it)...you’re so fucking tight,” Matysh groans, staring down at my face. The look in his eyes makes my heart beat faster. They’re usually so cold and calculating, but right now there’s a darkness to them that is terrifyingly desirable.
And it makes me want him to bury himself deeper in me.
After a few moments, the initial pain recedes, and I nod my head for him to continue. He pushes more of himself inside of me, moving slowly enough that my body can adjust to him. When he’s fully inserted, he stares down at me with a smirk.
“It’s like you were made for my cock,” Matysh taunts, his chest rising and falling slowly as he breathes deeply, rocking his hips slightly.
Enough to make me moan again.
My entire body tingles and I can feel a warmth deep inside of me filling a void I’d been oblivious to before. Now that I feel this, I can’t fucking understand how I went so long without it.
I open my mouth and another moan creeps out of my throat without any warning. Matysh brings his lips to my nipples again while he slowly pulls himself out of me. My breath is ragged as his teeth scrape against the delicate flesh and goosebumps form all over my body.
He slides every thick inch of himself back inside of me, and the same pressure of fullness that I desperately need returns.
“Ah... yes...” I start to lose my senses while he thrusts in and out of me.
After the first few times, the resistance is practically gone and Matysh quickens his pace, pumping every inch of his hard cock in and out of me.
I grab a hold of his biceps, squeezing the hard muscles while my fingernails dig into his skin. Looking at his body, I see dozens of tattoos that I have the urge to trace and memorize while my eyes scan the peaks and valleys of his body.
“Fuck, you like this,” Matysh rumbles through a breath as he looks me deep in the eye. For a brief moment, I see a flash of his brother.
Mikhail. The guilt is back so strongly, I have to look away. I squint my eyes shut, trying to block it out.
I have to think of something else. Anything other than the man I should be with right now. Emotions begin to well up in my chest, fighting to pour from my eyes as Matysh’s hips thud against mine.
And I still can’t stop the pleasure from building. Fuck, this is so bad. It’s so bad.
“But it feels so good,” I reply, inhaling sharply as I feel the beginnings of my orgasm about to take hold.
Matysh moves faster, his body slamming harder against me as he starts to lose control of himself. “That's right, Little Flame. I want you to come all over my cock like the good girl you are.”
Hearing him say that sends me over the edge and I let out a guttural moan as I feel my walls clamping down around him. My entire body trembles while I cry out and writhe against the bed. “Oh my fucking god,” I explode, my pussy pulsing around his shaft.
Every sensation in my body is heightened while I feel Matysh harden and throb inside of me. An intense rush of warmth floods my insides as he comes inside me.
“Oh fuck...” Matysh groans, slamming his hips against me wildly while he milks every drop of pleasure from us both. “Your pussy is so fucking perfect.”
“Mmm...” I mumble, shutting my eyes and letting the blackness take over. It feels great, satisfying…
But it ends. And the guilt I was fighting comes right back.
Matysh pulls himself out of me, and then lets out a huff.
Like he’s…disappointed.
My stomach knots up as I gather the courage to look at him. Matysh looks me in the eyes and the desire is gone. The same cold look reappears, and I realize whatever I saw earlier—the want—was fleeting.
Him going easy on me was born from a promise to Mikhail, nothing else.
And just like that, he slips into his pants and grabs his shirt, nodding to me without saying a word, before leaving me alone in my room.
I toss my legs over the side of the bed to go clean up, stopping when I see the blood stains on the sheets. Immediately, I reach for them, frantically ripping them off the bed in a hurried mess. My stomach churns as I pile them into the corner.
Right next to my wedding dress.
I just lost my fucking virginity to Matysh Volkov, the fucking devil brother of Mikhail.
Oh, and my husband.
My heart breaks and I can’t stop the tears that fall from my eyes.
***
I don't know what exactly I was expecting when I was handed off to marry Matysh, but it wasn't this. I never got the chance to know my mother before she died, but I did know that she was only a trophy. My father married her because she had status in the city, a wealthy socialite’s daughter with business connections back in Russia. She was beautiful…
And easy to control.
I can’t help but wonder if that’s what Matysh thought he was getting from me—and then was sorely disappointed, so now I’m here.
Locked away in a room with no access to the outside world like some kind of concubine.
It's been three weeks since Matysh and I... consummated our marriage. I haven't seen him since. The only other person I've interacted with is Helena when she's brought me food and water.
“And how are you feeling today?” Helena always asks as she turns down my bed, fluffing my pillows while staring at me with a slightly less terrified smile. “Any signs?”
“I think it's too early to tell if I'm pregnant,” I raise my brow. “You can stop asking and just get me a pregnancy test. It might be less awkward.” My tone is sharp, but she stopped wincing at me a long time ago.
Clearly, I’m losing my edge.
I groan as I flop back on my pillow. If I had my phone or a computer, or any other access to Google, I would definitely be trying to figure out how long it takes to find out if you're pregnant. The odds of getting pregnant the first time you have sex are probably pretty slim.
There’s no way I’d get that lucky to never have to fuck that monster again.
But still, the idea of Matysh having to come back in my room sends a small jolt of excitement through me that I immediately feel guilty about. What the hell is wrong with me?
I'm forced to marry the brother of my now late husband, and there's a part of me that wants him. That’s fucking repulsive.
Matysh has spared me no warmth since our wedding night, and yet I’ve spent countless hours of my three-week-long imprisonment wishing he’d come back to my room and fuck me again.
Just because the sex felt good doesn't mean I have to stop hating him, I say to myself as I jump from the bed and start to pace. I’m going insane. It’s from being locked in this goddamn room.
I'm constantly spiraling, worrying about forgetting Mikhail too soon. I truly loved him.
There I go again, using the past tense. I love him.
The door opens and I look up, realizing I'm a little disappointed to see that it's Helena again and not Matysh. She has some fresh laundry in hand as well as a small grocery bag with some essential items to restock in the room.
“Are you okay?” Helena asks, eyeing my pacing. I take a seat by the window and stare outside instead of answering.
I would give anything to be out there right now, taking a walk in the snow with a hot chocolate in hand, admiring all of the Christmas-themed window displays and the lights decorating different brownstones.
It's my favorite time of year and I'm locked in a room where I don't get to experience any of it. This is hell. I’m in hell.
“I want to go outside,” I mutter, staring out at the lights.
“Maybe soon,” Helena replies, and I roll my eyes at the vague answer.
I tune her out as she restocks, and I focus on a house in the distance. It's a beautiful colonial style manor with a Christmas light display so bright and detailed that I’m sure it draws a lot of attention.
I almost smile at it.
Mikhail and I used to talk all the time about how we would do stuff like that.
Coming from the families we do, we never got to experience the warm, fuzzy Christmases you see in movies.
Sure, we both had Christmas Eves and Christmas Days with big, fancy dinners, but that was it.
I never got to experience the magic of it.
We wanted to make our own traditions. We wanted to go to Christmas markets, walk around and admire all of the light displays, tell our children that Santa Claus is real, and do our best to create that magic.
And I highly doubt Matysh will want any part of that.
Raising a child with him isn't going to be any different than my own childhood. They're going to grow up way too fast, knowing what their family does. The world is going to be a cold, dark place where magic can't exist.
My heart squeezes at my inability to protect my future child from it.
Maybe I could run. Maybe I could escape this hell.
Though I have no idea what I'm going to do when I leave, but…maybe it would be worth a try.
My room is on the third floor of the estate, and thanks to the obnoxiously high ceilings, it's a little too high for me to jump down without, you know, breaking every bone in my body.
I usually have a few hours between every check-in Helena does throughout the day. She's just made my bed, so I can expect lunch to be served in a couple of hours. It's not a huge time window, but I think it might be enough to make something happen.
It’d at least give me some excitement. Even if they have to drag me back.
I pace back and forth as I try to come up with a plan. I think about attacking Helena when she walks in, but that thought is immediately shut down. Not only do I not want to fight Helena, but I am in no state to fight.
That's not even taking into consideration the guards that will immediately rush in and break it up if they hear a commotion.
I could try shimmying along the ledges of the house. Outside the window, I've noticed there's about a two-inch ledge leading to the balcony, which I imagine is outside of Matysh's room. But there are some obvious risks associated with it, one of them being falling to my death.
On top of that, if Matysh is in his room, he's going to spot me and that can't end well.
I settle on a classic escape plan—tying all of the bedding in my room into one long rope.
I immediately pull everything off of the bed.
Thanks to the luxurious standard of everything in the estate, I have a fitted sheet, a flat sheet, a duvet cover, and a duvet insert. All of which are California King size.
It's like Matysh wanted me to escape when he put that size of a bed there.
I’m literally going insane right now. I know I am. It’s fine. Maybe I will die.
Then everyone can really have a war.
I start tying knots in the bedding, really doubting my skills as I continue working. The funny thing is, I was in the Girl Scouts. Unfortunately for me, there was too big of a focus on selling cookies and not enough on survival skills.
Midway through my knot tying adventure, I feel a lurch in my stomach that gives me pause. Panic swells in my body, settling in around my neck the way it often does when I feel I'm going to be sick.
“No...” I say, rushing to my feet and running to the bathroom.
I drop to my knees in front of the toilet just in time to vomit in the basin.
When I'm done, I sit back and stare at the mixture of bile and breakfast in the bowl, running my fingers through my hair.
“No, no, no...this cannot be happening.”
I look at the counter where Helena has unpacked the items she restocked in here, seeing a myriad of period supplies. Pads, tampons, even a diva cup, because I'm sure she didn't know what I preferred when she shopped.
Oh my god, I was due for my period. Days ago.
I thought it was just being stuck in here that was making me crazy. But maybe it was hormones…
Like…pregnancy can also impact your hormones.
I give myself a few moments to wallow in the realization that I might be actually carrying Matysh Volkov's child, then jump to my feet. I can't let this deter me from doing exactly what I planned on doing.
In fact, it’s even more of a motivation now.
I’m getting the fuck out of here. Whatever it takes.