Chapter 23
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
NIKOLAI
Her body surrenders to me as I slip the handle of the knife inside her tight cunt, dragging it along a sensitive spot that makes her gasp. Slick with need, she clenches around it. I press my thumb against her clit, rubbing it in tight circles, relishing the way she squirms, her hips rocking forward. A sound between a sob and a moan escapes her.
I knew I’d never be able to go through with it. The idea of making her scream, of causing her any kind of pain, makes me feel physically ill.
When she put her small hand on my chest and said, “I don’t think you want to hurt me,” I knew she could see through my lies.
She was right.
But I still have a job to do. If I can’t show Roman the real thing, I’ll give him something that looks just as convincing.
Right now, Roman, the Syndicate, and the casinos are far from my mind. The only thing I care about is making her come so hard she sees stars.
Her head is thrown back, and from my vantage point between her legs, I can see her beautiful pussy flutter around the handle with every stroke inside her. When she starts to lose herself, I pull it out, leaving her empty.
She whimpers, her lips parting in protest, but I don’t give her what she wants. Instead, I run my tongue over the length of the ivory handle, teasing her, watching as her chest heaves with frustration and need.
“God, you taste good,” I rasp. Leaning forward, I graze my teeth over the soft curve of her neck. Her breath hitches as I trail my lips up to her ear. “I love having you at my mercy. Desperate to come.”
The sight of Sofiya, bound and exposed, her flushed skin glowing under the dim light, is more intoxicating than I could’ve dreamed. Her dusky nipples are tight, begging for my attention. I carefully work the knife’s handle back inside her, moving with slow, deliberate strokes as my mouth trails along her collarbone, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath my lips.
“Nikolai.” Her voice is hoarse, a warning, but I don’t stop. I thrust the handle into her pussy again and again, watching the way she reacts, entirely at my mercy.
“You’ve been such a good girl, playing along so beautifully. I think you’ve earned a reward.”
Her wide eyes meet mine as I spread her thighs wider, enjoying the way she gasps, every inch of her exposed to me. Her sex glistens, the intoxicating scent of her arousal filling my nostrils. It makes me fucking light-headed.
“You’re perfect, Sofiya,” I murmur, my voice thick with lust. “And you’re mine.”
“Nikolai,” Sofiya whimpers. “Please…”
“Please, what?” I blow against her slick folds, my lips brushing close enough to make her thighs quiver.
She lets out a broken moan, her hips lifting in silent desperation. A low chuckle escapes me as I press a teasing kiss to her inner thigh. “Use those pretty lips to tell me what you need, or I’ll have to find another way to occupy that mouth.”
“I-I need your tongue on me.”
My fingers curl carefully around the flat side of the blade, avoiding the sharp edge as I ease the ivory handle back into her slick pussy. Her wetness coats it, each slow thrust making her moan louder.
A groan escapes me as I lower my head, my lips finding her swollen clit. Her musky flavor explodes on my tongue, consuming me completely. I feast on her like I’ll never get enough, her cries only spurring me on.
Her body tightens as I pull the knife free, replacing it with my tongue, plunging deep into her soaked heat. My hands grip her thighs, holding her steady as she bucks against my face.
“You taste like fucking heaven,” I growl, my lips wet with her arousal. “So sweet. So perfect.” Sofiya’s head thrashes, incoherent pleas spilling from her lips. Her nails dig into the arms of the chair, and her legs quiver with need as her hips move wildly, chasing her release.
The sight of her coming apart makes my cock ache. I press my palm against the bulge, rubbing myself through the fabric to relieve the pressure, but it’s not enough. Nothing will be enough until I bury myself inside her again.
I slide the handle back into her tight cunt, pumping it in rhythm with the circles of my tongue. Her cries grow louder, her thighs quaking as I tease her. There’s a sick satisfaction in knowing that she’s letting go despite herself, that I drive her so wild she can’t resist.
“Oh God, oh fuck. Don’t stop—I’m so close!”
She writhes, her wetness dripping down my chin as the sounds of her pleasure fill the room. Replacing the knife with my fingers, I curl them inside her, pressing into that perfect spot that makes her buck violently, turning her cries into screams.
“Let go for me,” I order. “Come on my tongue, Sofiya. Soak me.”
As if she’s been waiting for permission, her climax crashes over her. She convulses with a broken sob, and her walls clamp down on my fingers as her release gushes over my hand and chin. I lap up every drop like it’s the finest nectar, growling my approval against her sweet pussy.
Sofiya goes limp, and I place gentle kisses along her drenched seam, soothing her through the comedown. My blood burns, every inch of me on edge because I’ve never felt anything this fucking intense. I’ve had more women than I can count, but none of them ever made me burn like this—no one but her. Since she came back into my life, I haven’t been able to touch anyone else. I don’t even want to.
When the last spasm fades, I withdraw my fingers, bringing them to my lips. Holding her dazed stare, I lick them clean. My cock is iron-hard and leaking, but this moment isn’t about me. Not yet.
She hesitates, her eyes darting around the room, lingering on the hard cement floor stained with the memories of blood and broken men. Then, her gaze shifts to the glowing red light of the camera mounted on the wall behind me.
Hurt flashes across her face. “What? You couldn’t torture me, so you’re going to send my family pictures of you seducing me?”
She’s right. That was my plan, but something feral and possessive flares in my veins at the thought of anyone else seeing her naked, vulnerable, and losing control.
Crouched in front of her, I grip her chin firmly, forcing her to look at me. “Do you think I’d let anyone else see what’s mine, moya sladost? Your pleasure, your pain, your body and soul—belong to me, your husband.”
Her lashes lower, a war of emotions playing across her face. She’s torn between the magnetic pull between us and resentment for how I’m blackmailing her family.
I trail a thumb across her bottom lip. “The only thing your family will see is images of the blade dragging along your clothed body,” I add, because no one but me will ever see her naked again.
I’ll choose a few stills from the video footage, one that captures just enough fear in her expression to leave them wondering what kind of hell I’ve put her through. But I won’t think about that right now.
I crash my mouth onto hers, claiming her lips all over again. Her tongue tangles with mine in a dance that makes my blood surge.
My fingers slide back into her drenched pussy, her soft whimpers against my mouth feeding my obsession. I’m desperate to bury myself inside her, to feel her come apart for me again, but when she pulls back, I know the spell is broken.
Her eyes flutter open, and her expression cuts through me like a blade, vulnerable and filled with something close to regret. “Nikolai,” she whispers, her voice thick. “Let me go… please.”
Please . That one word slices through me, leaving me off balance. I fight the instinct to tighten my hold on her. Forcing her to stay would destroy what little remains of the fragile connection between us.
Gritting my teeth, I slash through the ropes binding her wrists, grab my discarded shirt from the floor, and give it to her. “Put this on and leave.” My voice is rough with emotions I don’t want to name.
Her fingers clutch the fabric as she hesitates, her gaze lingering on me for the briefest moment before she slips the shirt over her shoulders. With that, she turns and rushes out, her bare feet silent against the cold floor. She doesn’t look back, and I don’t stop her.
SOFIYA
I race back to my room, Nikolai’s shirt clutched tight around me. My heart pounds like it’s trying to escape my chest.
In the bathroom, I wash my face before staring into the mirror. My reflection looks the same, but everything feels different. What just happened, and why the hell did I like it so much?
Nikolai couldn’t hurt me, but he’s left something worse—marks on my soul. Shame clings to me every time I think about how I let him seduce me. I promised Roman and Liza I’d find a way out of this, but instead, I’ve done the opposite. I’ve fallen under his spell, his touch so damn addictive that it drowns out every warning in my mind.
I know he’s using me to manipulate the Syndicate, but I still can’t resist him. He’s a craving I can’t deny, no matter how much I hate myself for giving in.
What will Roman and Liza think when they see those images of a knife near my throat? They’ll be distraught.
Sinking to my knees, I fish Valeria’s phone out from its hiding spot. A wave of relief washes over me when the screen lights up and the battery is still over half full. The signal bars are steady, which means Valeria hasn’t canceled her service yet. It doesn’t make sense—surely she knows it’s missing by now. Unless she assumes she misplaced it and is waiting for it to turn up. Either way, I’ll count it as a lucky break.
Messages and missed calls from Valeria’s contacts flood the screen, but there’s nothing from Liza. I didn’t expect there to be—she’s smart enough to know the risk. Still, I need to let her know I’m okay. Quickly, I type out a message:
Me: Any pictures Nikolai sends are staged. He never hurt or tortured me, but he wants you to think he did. I promise I’m OK. No updates yet, but I’m still looking. I’ll reach out when the time is right. Turning off the phone now to save battery.
I stare at the words for a long time before hitting send. I hope she believes me, and I hope it gives her some peace.
With a sigh, I power the phone down and tuck it away. My relief fades quickly, drowned out by a wave of sorrow. Because what I didn’t tell her is the worst of my lies: that I’m starting to fall for my captor.
I step into the shower, letting the hot spray cascade over my skin. Steam fogs the air, curling around me as the water streams over my body. I tilt my head back, closing my eyes, but there’s no escaping the images playing behind my eyelids: Nikolai in the basement—his dominance, his control, the way he unraveled me so completely I could barely breathe.
My hand drifts down, brushing over my stomach and lower, chasing the heat building inside me. My fingers find the place he claimed, and I bite my lip as I circle my clit, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves.
I press my forehead against the cool tile, my breath coming in shallow pants. I shouldn’t be thinking about him, but the memory of his soft mouth and the hard drag of the knife’s handle drives me closer to the edge.
My hips rock forward, and a whimper of need escapes my lips as my fingers slip inside my channel. I’m still a little tender from where the smooth ivory penetrated me, but it’s a good sore—the kind that heightens sensation.
I work my fingers deeper, my thumb brushing my clit. I bite down on my lip, suppressing a cry as I replay everything that happened earlier. The feel of the blade’s handle, the forbidden edge of what he did—it should have scared me, but it didn’t. It thrilled me.
I always thought I was vanilla, boring even, but Nikolai makes me want things I never knew existed. Things I should hate. A shudder wracks my body, my hips grinding into my hand until I’m lost to the crashing waves of pleasure.
When it’s over, I lean back against the wall, my chest heaving and my head spinning.
I hate that I let him consume me like this. More than that, I hate how much I want him to do it again.