15. Katerina
CHAPTER 15
Katerina
“Do I see what I think I see, or are my eyes deceiving me?” comes Ivanka’s haughty voice, each word bathed in her accent.
Roman and I have barely made it down the hall to the second floor landing.
“You see what I tell you you see, which is nothing,” Roman answers without stalling. He cuts a direct path down the hall, his gait smooth and powerful.
I’m at his side, scurrying to keep up. It’s difficult when one of his steps are two of mine. What’s even more difficult is avoiding the pointed glare Ivanka shoots in my direction as we pass her by.
She’s in front of an ajar door, where from the quick peek I give, other women are gathered. The same women from last night’s dinner.
The other pets.
Many wear the same slinky satin dresses and leather collars around their throats. I swallow hard remembering what it felt like to have the leather strained against my skin. I remember how the other men in the room had eyed me and known as soon as they reached the collar who I belonged to.
Recognition would dawn in their gazes. Respect given as they’d nod at Roman and I.
I’m not sure what else to call it, if not slightly startling. No one’s ever decided to respect me based off such a quick glance before. Usually, it’s the opposite; usually, people take one look at me and make a dismissive face, like I’m gum stuck on the bottom of their shoe.
We make it to the staircase, leaving Ivanka and the other pets behind.
“Come,” Roman says, scooping my hand up in his. “The car is waiting for us.”
Warmth envelops me at his touch. My hand tucked inside his. His coarse grip holding onto me like I’m something to be treasured.
A funny flutter attacks my stomach, though I don’t have time to wonder why.
We rush out the house’s double doors.
Some of the men I recognize from last night’s dinner wait for us. Burly and intimidating, they wear stoic looks on their faces. All business and nothing else.
It dawns on me as Roman tugs me down the front steps and the night’s cold air whips against my skin that these men are his men.
The crew under his command.
One of them stands by the rear passenger door of a large, unmarked SUV. He pulls it open in time for us to slide into the backseat.
“Otvezi nas ko mne,” Roman commands. “Ubedites, chto nikto ne sledit za vami? * .”
“Da, Zver? * .”
I catch a final glimpse of the home where I’ve been held captive for the last forty-eight hours before we drive off into the night.
To where? I’m not even sure…
Roman is silent and preoccupied with his phone for the entire drive. An hour passes of us riding in silence, with nothing more than sounds from the road and city surroundings. I watch the buildings whiz by as we speed on the freeway, wondering where I’ll be taken next.
There’s no use asking. I’ll be told I don’t need to know.
Part of me wonders about Finch, JC, and Fozzil, and if they’ve even noticed I’m missing. If they even give a damn that I am. Rosita’s definitely noticed and probably trying to contact me. She’s probably so worried, thinking the worst. We try to never go more than a few days without some form of contact, whether that’s by text or phone.
“We’re here,” Roman says, interrupting my thoughts.
I blink out of my stupor and peer out the window at the skyscraper we’ve parked in front of. The air evaporates from my lungs and I turn my head to blink wide-eyed at Roman.
“You live in the Northam Towers?”
“Come.”
Roman offers no other explanation. The car doors spring open and I’m ushered out of the SUV much in the same manner that I was ushered in.
I’m still speechless riding the elevator that’s encased in platinum gold. It dings once we reach the top floor and the doors roll open. We step out flanked by Roman’s men. I almost trip over my own two feet, causing the guy who’s behind me to step into me.
“Sorry,” I murmur. He’s cast me a dirty look and gone around.
Roman stops too. “What is it, devochka? Why do you look like a deer in headlights?”
“This… all of this… is yours?”
“My penthouse, da.”
I’m blown away.
Simply stunned into speechlessness.
There’s no other way to describe the top floor of the Northam Towers than to say it’s the epitome of luxury. We’ve stepped out of the elevator into a hall bathed in obsidian and platinum gold. My reflection gleams up at me in the floor below and crystal chandeliers shine from above. Abstract art hangs on the wall that I’m guessing costs in the thousands. I don’t even have to be an art connoisseur to know.
Staff await us as we walk through the penthouse lobby and double doors open to the spacious living room area and large glass windows overlooking the city of Northam. We’re seventy stories up with a bird-eye’s view of everything.
I’m dazed as I stop by the window and stare at the streets below, realizing that just days ago, I was one of the ant-sized people bustling about.
These same streets used to be my home .
“Kitty cat,” Roman says. “Follow me.”
I turn away from the window and follow him through the rest of the massive penthouse that includes four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a home gym, private office, gourmet kitchen, and theater room, among countless amenities.
He leads me into the master bedroom, which is bigger than any place I’ve ever lived.
There are whole apartments in Northam smaller than just Roman’s bedroom.
“You will sleep here every night,” he says, gesturing to the space. “With me.”
“Oh.”
I can’t hide the shock from my face. My gaze flits across the room, landing on the generously sized bed. Does a size bigger than king exist? If so, Roman has it in his bedroom.
He tilts his head to the side. “You do not like the idea of sleeping in my bedroom, devochka?”
“Hmm?” I mumble, avoiding eye contact. “What was that?”
“You are still so shy,” he observes. “My kitty cat doesn’t like being so close. Is that it?”
My hand comes to my face as the urge to cringe strikes me. “Look, I know I’m your pet, and I guess that means I have to fuck you now. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to be comfortable just… just moving into your bedroom.”
“Devochka…”
“But I guess that’s the point, right?” I sigh. “You’ll have pussy on demand. Which is clearly what you want.”
“Devochka…”
“Should we fuck now and get it over with? It’s been a while for me. Except when, you know, your uncle molested me last night. But go right ahead. Take what you want. I clearly get no say.”
“Devochka!”
Roman shuts me up by grabbing me by the jaw. His fingers grip my chin firmly, almost roughly, as if he’s reminding me who’s in charge. I fall silent at once, shocked by the blunt force. He’s forcing my attention, making me look up into his chiseled face.
“Devochka,” he says a fourth time, a hint of affection in his tone, “will you shut the fuck up? You have a flair for the dramatic. But you will find that won’t stand here. You will be sleeping with me in my bed, but I won’t be fucking you… for now.”
Suspicion makes my right brow arch. “Then why do you want me here?”
“I’ve told you, kitty cat. You’re my pet. I do not mistreat pets… unless they ask for it. Unless they misbehave themselves. Are you planning on that being you?”
Slowly, I shake my head side to side.
“Good,” he says, letting go of my chin. “But there are rules. Rules you will always follow. Because you are my pet, you will remain here at the penthouse at all times… unless I take you elsewhere. You are not to communicate with anyone you know—or with anyone else, for that matter. I will allow you use of the electronic devices, but all email, text, and call features will be disabled.”
Though I don’t say anything, my expression gives me away. Roman looms closer, peering down at me as if I really am a kitten he’s observing.
“What is it, kitty cat?” he asks. “You do not like that rule?”
“I have a best friend. Her name’s Rosita. We always keep in touch.”
He gives a grunt. Seconds pass where he thinks on what I’ve said and I’m left in the dark on what he’ll say next. “Alright, one call. I’ll allow you a call to her each week,” he says. “But I will be there… or one of my men will be, to make sure you’re not telling her things you shouldn’t. Is that fair?”
No.
Fair would be letting me have full agency to do whatever the fuck I want, when I want.
But I tamp down on giving my real answer. Instead, I nod my head in agreement.
“I don’t understand why you want me here. Especially if you’re not going to fuck me.”
“For now,” he adds a second time. He turns away from me to walk toward the floor-to-ceiling window that’s in the bedroom, boasting some of the same fantastic views as the rest of the penthouse. “Devochka, you seem to not understand what the fuck’s going on. You’re here because I want you here. I’ve taken you for myself. You’re my pet now.
“But, also, you’re here because the alternative would be death. For what you’ve done—the fucking shit you’ve put yourself in—you would be dead. Maybe not today or tomorrow. Maybe not even next week. But someday, when the sovietnik discovers who you are and what you’ve done.”
My insides twist into knots at the grim prediction. “Does that mean JC and the others will be?”
“They will be caught and murdered soon,” he answers nonchalantly. “My father is a vengeful man who will not let something like a kidnapping attempt go unchecked. Your best chance at survival is with me.”
“You’re… protecting me?” I say slowly. “But why?”
“I’ve told you. I like what I see. You are different from what I know. You are beautiful… but also rough around the edges. Delicate… but also a survivor. Obnoxious… but also intriguing. If you were not any of these things, I’d let you die.”
“Gee, thanks. That’s flattering.”
“Not flattering. Just honest. You’ll find that if you are sensitive, your feelings will be hurt often with me. I do not mince words, devochka.”
“So what am I supposed to do here all day?” I ask, coming up beside him at the window. “Just hang out and… what?”
“There is a gym. Home theater. Books. Entertain yourself. But when I want you to entertain me, you will,” he explains.
“Entertain… you?”
“You’ll see. We’ll be getting to know each other very well, kitty cat. But now, time for a shower.” He easily tugs the plain black crewneck t-shirt over his head. His hands reach for the button and zipper on his pants to undo those.
I stand by in yet another spat of speechless shock as Roman strips down before me like it’s nothing. His pants pool on the floor as he steps out of them and then lowers his boxers. Just like that, he’s completely naked in front of me.
And glorious.
It’s the only word I can think of to describe his impeccable body.
He’s not just built like a tank. He’s sculpted like a work of art. One of those chiseled statues you see in museums.
His body is large and hulking, yet there’s a refinement about it. The muscle is cut and defined everywhere I look, from his broad chest to the power in his thick thighs. He’s hairy in an attractive masculine sort of way, tattoos inking various parts of his skin.
But as my gaze tracks down his large, formidable form inch by inch, it’s the gigantic dick swinging between his legs that most catches my attention.
As I suspected, Roman is packing.
I’m no size queen by any measure, but… damn .
My mouth practically waters setting sight on Roman’s dick. Most times I can take or leave sex—kind of a downside of living to survive and being consumed by where my next meal and place to lay my head would be—but seeing Roman’s dick awakens a hunger inside me.
A different kind of hunger than I’m used to. I can’t remember the last time a man’s prompted these feelings out of me.
If ever.
Roman’s sapphire-blue eyes glint as he stares me in the eye and walks right past me. Naked as the day he was born. Not a shy bone in his powerful body. I turn around to track his movements, watching in awe as he strides toward the bathroom.
“You may join me if you like, kitty cat,” he says as he walks. “If not today, then someday soon.”
I blink out of my shock and then cautiously trail in his wake. “I’ve… I’ve already showered.”
“Don’t be afraid of me. I don’t bite. Most of the time.”
“Do you… um, do you always walk around… like this?”
“You like what you see?” he asks once we’re in the bathroom and he’s twisting on the shower knob. “You don’t need to tell me you do, kitty. They call me Zver for a reason. I’m a beast. A beast with certain sensibilities. That includes a superior sense of smell.”
I gulp instead of swallow. “A-and what’s that supposed to mean?”
“I can practically smell how wet that fucking pussy of yours is. Tell me, devochka, if I were to stick my hand inside your panties, what would I find? Are you wet right now?”
Yes.
“No!” I answer indignantly. I don’t even sound like I believe myself. Probably because it’s completely untrue. I am wet. I’m heated too. Glancing around the spotless bathroom as Roman waits on the shower, I search for a change of topic. “Will I have to wear a collar while I’m here? Or was that only for the event with your father?”
“You will wear the collar for me, devochka. When I want you to wear it.”
A mysterious glint flashes in Roman’s gaze that sends a shiver racing down my spine. I have a feeling I know exactly when Roman will want me to wear the collar. I doubt I’ll have anything else on when I do.
…and I can’t say it doesn’t turn me on just a little.
My pussy throbs imagining what it would be like. If I were to truly be Roman’s pet. I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t make me a little curious…
Roman steps into the shower.
I stand by uncertainly, trying to decide if I should hang around or give him privacy. He doesn’t seem to care either way.
Over the course of the next ten or so minutes, he showers as if it doesn’t matter. Maybe he was right—maybe shyness about nudity is an American thing.
Flushed and awkward, I return to the bedroom, where I proceed to sit on the edge of the massive king-sized bed and wait him out. He’s just turned off the shower knob and is toweling off when his bedroom door flies open and a woman hurries through.
She must be around my age. A brunette that’s tall and slim, dressed in an all-black uniform that I realize denotes his staff members.
“Zver, are you here? Zver!” She stops short at the sight of me, arching a thin brow. “Who are you?”
“Huh? Oh. I’m… err, I’m Kat.”
“And, Kat, what are you doing in the brigadier’s bedroom?” she snaps sharply. “Why are you here?”
“Polina! Hush.”
Roman emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a towel secured around his waist. Droplets of water still cling to him, slipping and sliding down the muscular divots of his impressive body. He looks from me to the woman named Polina as if he’s not surprised in the least we’re both here.
Meanwhile, we’re both equally as surprised that the other woman is.
“Zver, who is this?” Polina spits.
“Never mind that,” Roman says. “What are you doing in here, Polina? Tell me now.”
She exhales a fuming breath, her neck reddened. “I came to warn you. He is on his way up.”
“Who is?”
She throws me a dirty look, then refocuses on Roman. “The pakhan. He has come to see you.”
* ? Otvezi nas ko mne. Ubedites, chto nikto ne sledit za vami - Take us to my place. Make sure no one is following.
* ? Da, Zver - yes, beast