Chapter 19 – Ellie
It had happened again, against my better judgment. We fucked. And this time, he made sure that I came. I fuckin’ came—squirted like water from a friggin’ fountain. The mere thought of it alone still made my pussy tingle.
The man was just as good with his tongue as he was with his cock. He knew where to lick, where to kiss, and where to caress. He knew when to flatten his tongue and when to use the tip. His pacing was rhythmic, deliberate.
He ate my pussy with the passion of a man who’d been waiting ages to show off his skills. And boy, was he skilled! He explored my entire body without trying so hard. His mouth and fingers reached places inside me that made me lose what little control I had left.
He promised that I was going to beg him to take me, and that sexy bastard actually did it. He made me beg. At first, I didn’t want to. But the more I tried to resist, the more he teased me. And he teased really well.
Even now, two days later, I was still ashamed of how I’d lost every sense of reasoning and control that night. The words I uttered while swooning in ecstasy still haunted me. They lingered on the fringes of my mind as a constant reminder of that embarrassing moment.
“Eat me already…please.”
I didn’t think it was embarrassing when it was happening, though.
I thought it was the best head I’d ever had.
In fact, I didn’t think so. I knew so. Because he actually made me come with just his tongue and his fingers.
I’d never experienced that before; the feeling was fuckin’ spectacular. Breathtaking. Literally.
His kisses were electric, his touch possessive in ways that stirred up strange emotions within me. When he climbed on top of me and began hitting my G-spot with relentless thrusts, my brain completely shut down.
Raw electricity surged through my body the deeper he drove into me.
“Harder, Daddy. Fuck me harder!”
I knew I would die of humiliation later on, but at the time, I didn’t give a shit. I just wanted to be fucked till my heart gave out.
“Don’t stop. Don’t you fuckin’ stop.”
I clutched a pillow to my chest as I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, my mind reeling from the events of that night. I replayed the scene over and over, recalling every detail I could.
My heart swelled with desire, and my chest wouldn’t stop heaving.
“You naughty little devil. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Daddy!”
“Say it again.”
“I’m all yours!”
I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow as though it would help ease my shame. I hadn’t been able to face him again ever since he made me lose control like that.
My body still craved his touch, and every fiber of my being still longed for him deep inside me again.
It would’ve been different if it were just regular sex where both of us were moaning.
But it wasn’t.
It was more than just regular sex, and I didn’t just moan. I said things that I would never say in my right senses. And that was my biggest shame.
“Do it. Come in me. I want you inside me.”
Why the hell had I said that out loud? Why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut?
The urgency in my tone and the way I locked my legs around his waist, trapping him in place, was a clear indication of my desperation.
What exactly did he do to me?
The major issue here was the fact that, despite my shame, I would still do it again if given the chance. That’s when it dawned on me that I just might be addicted to Karik Tarasov.
Fuck, no.
This was all shades of wrong. He was a monster. All I was allowed to feel for him was hatred.
I got out of bed and walked over to the couch, then sank into it. My fingers combed through my hair as I began to carefully analyze the side of the Vetrov story that was hidden from the public.
It turned out that the man I thought was wrongfully convicted had chosen prison over his freedom. He made a deal with the Bratva behind closed doors, and even his family was unaware of it. They also believed he was forced to confess to a crime he didn’t commit.
But that wasn’t the full story.
His imprisonment was the only reason they were still walking God’s green earth. If he hadn’t taken the fall and the Tarasov Bratva hadn’t cleared his debt, they’d all be dead by now.
In a way, it was a win-win situation for both parties. The Bratva wasn’t associated with the bombing, and Vetrov’s family was spared. Case closed.
If I’d known this earlier, I wouldn’t have bothered with the case at all. But that wasn’t even the most disturbing part. The more I thought about it, the more I began to view the world through a different lens.
The lines I once believed in so fervently—right and wrong, good and evil—were blurring. Karik believed I was naive and far too optimistic for this world. Maybe he wasn’t wrong. Maybe I’d been living in a fantasy world this whole time.
He said I believed everyone was innocent until proven guilty, but in reality, the opposite was true. That was before he revealed that the half a dozen men who died in that explosion weren’t as innocent as I thought.
Even the warehouse that was bombed was just a front; despicable things went on underground. In essence, he was saying that everything I knew about the case was a lie. Half-truths at best.
“Open your eyes. The world isn’t black and white,” his words echoed in my head.
At this point, I started to question everything that I was taught, everything I thought I knew.
The knock on my door snapped me back to the present. I whipped my head toward the entrance. “Come on in. It’s open.”
It was Agata.
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, her head slightly lowered. “Ma’am, do you have a minute?”
I squinted at her subtle unease, wondering the reason behind it. “Sure.”
She stopped a few paces in front of the couch, fingers scratching the back of her head.
“What’s the matter? Is everything all right?” I asked, concerned.
“Um…I’m really not sure.”
The fine leather crunched beneath my weight as I leaned in, watching her closely. “Is it Karik?”
She swallowed hard, unable to meet my gaze.
My face twisted into a faint scowl. “Did he yell at you again?”
“Ohh, no, no.” Her response was swift, her eyes glancing up at my face. “He didn’t. It’s just….”
A pause.
“Well, spit it out already. What did he do that’s got you so worked up?”
She hesitated, rubbing her greasy palms over her black-and-white dress. “It’s embarrassing,” she whispered.
I raised my brows, thinking nothing could be as embarrassing as the nasty things I said to him in bed. But nevertheless, I was eager to hear what she was so embarrassed about.
“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” I said. “I mean, it’s not like he caught you fucking or something.” A quiet laugh escaped my lips.
It was supposed to be a joke.
But for some reason, she didn’t find it funny. Instead, she lowered her head again, as if to hide the guilt etched in her face.
My smile slowly broadened as it dawned on me that I might’ve guessed right. “Wait a minute.” I rose to my feet, my gaze pinned on her. “Did he actually catch you…?”
“I told you it’s embarrassing.”
I tried to hold it back in; I really tried.
A strangled laugh burst out of me, my shoulders shaking so hard.
“It’s not funny, ma’am,” she said, her voice low and polite.
“I’m sorry,” I replied amidst chuckles, drying the tears that dotted my lashes. “Sit down. Please.”
Her lips pursed into a fine line as if suppressing her own laughs. She sank into the sofa across from me, hands on her lap.
“Tell me, what happened?” I sat down, watching her. “And who’s the lucky guy?”
“Well…” she began. “That’s why I think I’m in trouble.” She raised her head. “It’s Sergei.”
“Sergei?!” My brows arched in disbelief, my tone rising a bit higher than normal.
“Shhhh. Keep your voice down,” she whispered.
“Sorry,” I replied, my voice low.
Sergei was Karik’s right-hand man, always so serious and stoic. He was the last person I expected to be caught in a compromising position with a woman.
“Are you two like…dating?” I asked her.
She swallowed. “No. Not really.” A pause. “But we’ve been…sleeping together for quite some time now.”
I listened in silence.
“We’ve been very careful, ma’am,” she added, her tone tinged with a hint of fear. “Nobody knows about our affair. But a few nights ago, he caught us red-handed.”
I cleared my throat. “Did he say anything to you guys?”
She shook her head. “That’s why I’m worried. What if he decides to fire us both—me and Sergei?”
“Hey, listen to me.” I leaned in, elbows on my knees. “You didn’t do anything worth getting fired over. What you do with your private life is none of his business.”
“But it’s his roof,” she said, her face masked with subtle anxiety. “I’m just a maid, and Sergei is his bodyguard. I think we crossed the line.”
I paused, thinking about the best way to handle this without escalating the issue.
Agata was the closest thing to a friend I had in this mansion, and I didn’t want her to get hurt. She loved her job and somehow believed that I had the capacity to help her, maybe put in a good word for her.
“Relax,” I said to her, wearing an encouraging smile. “He won’t fire you. Or Sergei.”
She stared at me, a glint of hope flickering in her eyes. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I give you my word.”
She bowed her head, a quiet sigh of relief escaping her lips.
“Just be more careful next time,” I added.
She gave a curt nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome.”
She exhaled sharply, as if a heavy burden had been lifted off her chest. She rose to her feet and headed out, her flats almost silent against the floor.
I’d just convinced her that her job was safe. But the question remained: What if Karik chose to fire both of them? Would he listen to me if I told him not to?
However, he wasn’t actually going to fire them over this. Right?