Chapter 12
ALINA
E verything went black.
I screamed, but it was muffled by the thick fabric covering my face.
I might as well have been crying out underwater.
The hood blocked out all light and most sound.
The fabric didn't cut off all my air, but I had to strain to get oxygen in, my head swimming with the effort.
Or maybe that was panic? I didn't know.
Pavel was still behind me, his body pressed to mine, against the hot, painful welts left by the belt's sting.
The pain was a godsend.
It grounded me. Told me which way was up, and that I was still alive. I was in danger, but I was alive. As long as I drew breath, even if it was thick and smelled of my shame, there was a way out.
Temporarily deprived of my sight, the mirror was of no use in helping me figure out what he was doing. That somehow made everything so much worse when he secured what felt like a buckle around my throat .
I raised my arms to undo it, my fingers clawing at the straps to rip it free from my throat so I could breathe.
He quickly wrenched my hands down, pulling them behind my back and securing them with something cold and hard that bit into the delicate skin of my wrists.
Fear clawed through me as I tried to fight him, tried to pull my wrists away, but it was no use.
He'd handcuffed me!
I screamed out in frustration and fear, and I swore I could hear his low laugh, muffled by the hood.
"Calm yourself, little kitten. You'll only make it worse. You can't stop this, so you may as well enjoy it." His voice sounded so far away.
Then his hands were on me, pulling my head to the side so he could press his face to the hood.
I could just make out his muffled words from the other side of the thick fabric, but it didn’t distract me from his hands running from my back, up my arms and around to my breasts where he pinched my nipples, sending a sharp shock of pain through me and straight to my still-pulsing core.
"I know you enjoyed coming on the gun you stole from me. I can see how wet your cunt is, and you completely lost yourself to the adrenaline and fear."
He'd found the gun. Which could only mean one thing: he'd not only been to my apartment but had searched through my meager possessions to find it.
"No," I denied. Over and over, I rejected his words and the truth they held.
Seconds later, I was lifted off the floor .
His broad, warm shoulder pressed into my soft skin as my body was turned upside down.
He threw me over his shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes or something. Blood rushed to my head, and my ribs ached with every step he took, jostling me around.
Oh, my god. Oh, my god.
He was carrying me out of the club—naked and handcuffed.
Everyone was going to see the evidence of what we had done… no, what he had done to me.
My ass was still hot from the belting, my thighs still wet from what he had done with the pistol. It didn't matter how hard I clenched my thighs together, they would know.
Panic clawed its way up my chest when I realized it didn't matter what they saw.
It was going to be the last they ever saw of me.
Pavel was taking me to a second location.
I had listened to enough true crime podcasts to know what that meant.
There was absolutely no way this ended well for me.
All the times I had cursed my wretched lot in life crashed over me.
But no matter how bad it sometimes got, I wanted to live.
I didn't want to die in some ditch, discarded like trash.
That was not how I was going to die, at least not without a fight.
I thrashed and kicked, but it only earned me a sharp smack on my already sore ass.
"No," I cried out, ignoring the pain and the way the hood over my head muffled everything. He probably couldn't hear me, but I didn't care. I had to try. "Please, my grandmother depends on me. I have obligations, responsibilities. You can't do this. My grandmother needs me."
Breath sawing in and out of my lungs, I tried to kick out, succeeding only in prompting his arm to tighten around my knees, pressing my legs to his body.
I tried using my shoulders and what little core strength I had—anything to make it impossible for him to keep a hold on me, but it didn't matter.
My skin was suddenly covered in warm fabric before a rush of cold air hit me.
He was taking me outside.
Muffled voices reached me through the hood over my head, but the words were indiscernible.
Then I was tossed onto a car seat, the leather soft and cool against my bare skin. It even soothed the fiery heat across my ass. The hood felt tighter; the way I landed pulled at the buckle around my throat.
It became harder to breathe. Beads of sweat ran down my face, stinging my eyes as I tried to wriggle myself to the other side of the car.
The seat below me vibrated as the engine started, and the doors all slammed shut with deafening thuds. Someone was in the back with me as the car pulled away.
There was no escape.
Despite that, I tried to talk, to plead, to beg for my life. I couldn't make out any response.
"Please, I'll do anything. Please, don't kill me."
Warm hands wrapped around my ankles, and I was pulled back across the seat.
Then, I was lifted onto a lap and forced to straddle a man's hips .
I thought it was Pavel, but there was no way to be sure.
I could barely smell some kind of cologne through the hood, but I wasn't sure if it was Pavel, or his cologne still on my skin, or even the hood itself.
The only clue I had was the hard cock, barely contained by his pants pressing between my thighs.
Warm breath ghosted over my throat, and then—a wet mouth was on my nipple, sucking and pulling at the sensitive flesh gently, almost reverently.
I lurched backward, trying to break contact, ignoring the way my blood heated at the touch.
The move cost me a hard slap to one breast, then the other, before a hand grabbed the collar holding the hood to my throat and pulled me back against my assailant.
I felt rather than heard the growl vibrate through his chest. His hands dropped down and gripped my waist, strong and possessive.
It was Pavel.
It had to be.
No other man could growl like that and have my body respond with tight, hard nipples, softening stomach muscles, and a warming core.
The man was dangerous, depraved, and had a control over my body that defied logic and every survival instinct I had.
Why did that thought calm me?
Why did it matter?
The mouth returned to my breast, his lips, teeth, and tongue sucking and nipping at the puckered flesh while his thumbs rubbed small circles on my hips, making my body buzz with heat .
It was strange to be unable to see or hear and be left only with touch.
His warm hands running up my back.
His hot mouth on my breast and the subtle growl as he pressed his cock against me.
My body pressed down.
I didn't mean to.
I didn't want to, but still my hips rocked, looking for the friction that would satisfy us both.
My mind spiraled in a thousand directions. Was this it? What was he planning on doing to me? Was he planning on fucking me before he killed me? Was he planning on keeping me? If he kept me, what would he do with me?
Surely, he didn't need me to be some kind of arm candy or bed warmer.
Pavel was attractive, powerful, and seductive.
If the whispers from the other cleaners were true, then he could get any woman he wanted. Willingly.
Why would he take me? Why was this happening to me? What was he going to do?
The more thoughts that raced through my mind, the harder it was to breathe.
A cold sweat broke out over my back as I tried to slow my thoughts.
My skin was over-sensitive, every soft touch of air, every shift of the car, every movement of his hands or his tongue against my flesh—it was all too much. Too overwhelming.
I wanted to scream but couldn't.
I wanted to fight past him, but there was nowhere to go .
There was nothing I could do but endure and pray for a quick end.
Would some poor, unwitting soul come across my body in a year chained in some long-forgotten basement when Pavel tired of me? Or would he do something else, something as threatening as making me fuck a gun, but that ended in death before the orgasm?
Was this how I died?
In some kinky fantasy that could only be born in the mind of a madman, the brain of a monster?
Something pushed inside of me.
I stiffened. It was thicker than what I experienced before, still firm, but more giving, and warmer.
When it curled to press into my G-spot, I realized it was his fingers and not his gun again, or some other weapon. Still, his fingers were merciless, the way they stretched me, pressed in deep and rubbed the most sensitive parts of me.
Once more, I held my breath.
Before, I had feared losing my virginity to a weapon.
Now, I feared he would discover I was untouched.
He was going to feel how innocent I was, and I didn't know how he would react.
Would it make things worse?
Men like him valued virgins in the world of sex trafficking.
Would he keep me alive just to sell me?
I didn't know what would be worse—being killed and left like trash on the side of the road, or being sold into sexual slavery.
Tears soaked the hood's fabric as my body betrayed me by tightening around him, my arousal coating his fingers, making them slick and their intrusion so much easier.
He said something. The rumble of his voice pressed into my breast before his teeth pressed into my skin. I had no idea what he said. A part of me was desperate to know.
Did he call me his good girl again? Did he say something about the way I took his punishment? Or did he like the way my pussy was pulsing around his fingers? Had he figured out that his gun was the first thing that had ever penetrated me?
Why did this damn hood have to be so thick?
With a shaky, hard-won breath, I shut those questions down and tried to distance myself from all of this. There was nothing I could do yet. I needed to save my strength.
I tried to think about anything else. The dancers had told me how they survived working in the club, doing the shit the vampires paid extra for by not really being there.
One girl said that while she was on her knees, in her head she was on a beach in the Caribbean sipping on a pina colada. Another said she was at home, in her bed, her kid in their own room, safe and asleep. They let their bodies go on autopilot while their minds were somewhere else, anywhere else.
I tried to dissociate.
I tried to think about being anywhere else, to let my mind roam free, but every time I pictured myself somewhere, he was there, too.
He was there, one hand holding a belt, the other between my thighs with three fingers buried deep inside of me, his mouth licking at my breast .
No matter where I tried to be in my mind, Pavel followed me.
I couldn't believe this was happening. How did I end up here, and was there even a single hope of escape?
The car stopped.
Warm fabric was draped around my body, and I was lifted out of the car and thrown over his shoulder again.
I had no idea where we were.
The hood muffled everything but there was no mistaking his arm wrapped around the backs of my thighs, holding me in place.
He stopped and turned around, and by the sudden g-force pressure that made my head swim, my stomach drop, and my ears pop, I assumed we were in an elevator.
His hand moved up higher on my thighs, sliding underneath the fabric he had wrapped me in.
I twisted my wrists, testing the bonds of the handcuffs. There was no escape.
His fingers toyed with the seam of my pussy, just petting the sensitive skin. Warmth and pleasure spread from his touch and shame filled my veins.
It was several minutes before he started walking again. We must have been really high up.
A skyscraper or really any kind of tower meant there were people around. A hotel? An apartment building? Hell, even an office building meant there were people. It was a Wednesday afternoon. There had to be people coming and going.
Right?
Maybe someone would hear me scream?
A kernel of hope blossomed in my chest as I tried to pull enough air into my lungs to scream. I would only get one good one, so I had to make it count.
Pavel set me on my feet, and my head swam as I struggled to stay upright.
I knew better than to run.
I couldn't see and I had no idea where I was. Instead, I took another deep breath, preparing to let it all out in one horror movie-worthy scream that would shatter his eardrums, curdle the blood of anyone nearby, and call for help.
I had no idea if I could pull that off, but I had to try.
A metal clasp clicked, freeing one of my wrists.
Before I could react, I was shoved backward. The air being pushed from me was more of a gasp than a scream.
I was on a bed, where firm memory foam cradled my body and silk sheets soothed my heated skin but made crawling away impossible.
He was going to find out I was a virgin; he was going to take that from me, and then he was going to kill me.
Despite knowing it would be muted, I opened my mouth and screamed.
I screamed until my lungs burned and my head swam, and I struggled to get him away from me.
My arms were stretched over my head, and the handcuff was re-secured to my wrist, chaining me to the bed. I pulled, but the chain held strong. I wrapped my hands around the chain to pull it free from whatever held me, but it was no use.
Pavel straddled my hips, pinning me down with his weight .
I held my breath. Tears ran down my face as I tried not to think about what was going to happen.
It was only then that the hood was removed.
It took my eyes several minutes to adjust, and Pavel's face came into view, hovering over mine.
His hands were on either side of my outstretched arms.
He caged me in with his body.
Making sure I knew I was under his control, was his captive.
I was his toy to play with.
"Hello, beautiful," he said with a sinister smile. "Want to play a game?"