Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
ELLIE
I ’m shaking. I can’t believe I just did that.
I head into the adjoining bathroom and close the door, leaning back on it and gasping for air.
I fucking did it. I pleasured a man because I wanted to and got on my knees for him. That was all I wanted. To control another human being. To control him.
A slow smile spreads across my face as I relive the experience. It felt good. So good because for the first time, I took charge of this situation. I wasn’t the meek, scared shitless girl he picked up off the streets. I was a confident woman who took what she wanted and withheld her dignity.
Arman thought he was in charge of the situation. That he could fuck me and be done with it. I wanted him to. Hell, I still do, but this was perfect. He was perfect and I am aching for him to finish the job.
My hand drifts lower where my pussy throbs, desperate for attention, his attention .
Slowly, I brush my finger over my clit, loving the flutter it creates in my heart.
I press deeper, my own heat coating my fingers, and as I increase the pressure, I stare deep into the memory of his eyes.
Arman Romanov.
So strong, so powerful, and so off limits. I could have let him fuck me, but then he would be done. He would have what he wants but I’ve only just started. I want to prolong this for as long as possible because for the first time in my life, I want something more than air. I want this experience and I wasn’t kidding. He is part of that deal and I wonder if I would feel the same if it was another man standing in his place.
My body shudders as I come apart by my own hand. His image dancing deliciously before my eyes.
Arman.
His parents got that right. He is a man, a bona fide, power crazy, tyrant of a man, with a soft center that he is trying so hard to disguise.
He could have sacrificed me to the dogs back there at the house and watched them fuck me along with the other women. He could have insisted on taking charge back in the bedroom, but he let me control what happened and I love him for that.
As my heartbeat lessens and reality swims into focus, I head to the shower with the brightest smile on my face. This is the day Gabrielle Adams died. Ellie Adams stepped forward and trampled her into dust and life had better be ready for me because whatever happens next, I’ll be okay. Even if I leave and find myself back on the streets looking for work, I’ll be okay. I don’t need anyone because I’ve got myself, so watch out world, I’m coming for you.
He’s gone.
When I finish in the shower and head back into the room, Arman isn’t there. It’s as if nobody was here in the first place except for my dress that is still lying where it fell. The sheets are smooth and the air is calm. It’s almost as if it never happened and I’m confused. What happens now? Is he angry?
It’s late, so late, but what do I do? Crawl into his bed and sleep off what may have been a bad decision.
Do I go in search of him? Am I even welcome here anymore?
My earlier euphoria is fading as uncertainty creeps in.
I decide to dress and I do it quickly. I can’t take anything for granted and maybe he’s angry with me. I thanked him and walked away, not even considering how he felt, and if a man did that to me, I would be mortified.
I am such a fool. Why am I such a jerk? Of course, he’s angry. I used him. It was obvious and now he’s angry.
My heart beats fast as I head off in search of him. Tiptoeing through the silent penthouse that isn’t dissimilar to the house I first woke up in.
He likes white. Black and white, actually. He dresses in black and his attitude matches that, but he craves the light. Cleanliness, anonymity perhaps, a blank canvas on which to wreak havoc I expect.
The harder I search, the more anxious I get. Has he left me here alone and if so, what now ?
The final door I come to leads to the staircase and as I climb the white marble steps, my heart beats with anticipation.
What will I find at the top of this stairwell?
I find another door and as I push through it, the cold fingers of the nighttime darkness claw at my skin. Cooling, bracing and awakening. My sense are on high alert as the breeze calms my heated skin and causes me to shiver in my barely there dress.
I venture on to the roof terrace. Only a glass barrier separating me from possible death. It wraps around this apartment building along with meticulous planting and soft lighting. I pass comfortable seating areas and an outdoor kitchen. A hot tub bubbles away beside an infinity pool that is lit electric blue. The distant sound of the city below proves I’m still alive at least and somewhere down there ordinary life goes on.
My life is far from ordinary now and I can’t believe so much has happened in such a short space of time.
As I round the next corner, I see him. Fully dressed and gazing over the city by the edge, only the glow of a cigarette evidence that he is breathing.
“Arman.”
My voice is soft, hesitant even, and a low whisper reaches my ears.
“Go to bed, Ellie.”
“But–”
“You need your sleep. I suggest you grab it while you can.”
“But–” I take a deep breath. “What about you? Will you, um, be, joining–”
“No!”
His voice is like whiplash, and my heart falls in a bloodied puddle at my feet.
He’s angry.
I did this. I made him angry and I hate the dull throbbing ache inside my heart .
“You’re angry. Why?”
I just won’t give it up, and he shakes his head.
“No. I’m disappointed.”
He turns and the gleam in his eye is terrifying and in this moment I see him for what he is. Arman Romanov. Powerful human being and so out of my league it’s ridiculous.
“In me?”
My chest heaves as I struggle not to break and he studies me with those enigmatic eyes and then takes a deep drag of his cigarette and tosses it over the side.
The smoke rings he sets off into the air dispel on the breeze and he says huskily, “No, malysh. I’m disappointed I never experienced the thrill of being inside you.”
It sounds so final. As if this was all we had. A moment in time when two lost souls came together to see what would happen. An experiment if you like that is over now. His words have a final edge to them that makes the tears sting behind my eyes.
He jerks his head toward the exit and says with a sigh.
“Go and sleep. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He turns and removes another cigarette from a pack that is resting on the ledge and, as he flicks the flame of his lighter, it illuminates the frown on his face.
With a sinking heart, I turn and walk away. Just as he instructed me to and as the tears spring forward and coat my face, I sense that whatever this was is over now.