Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Mackenzie
I walk across the empty stage and look around the dimly lit theater. It’s a quiet contrast to the war raging inside my head.
Professor Carson allows the dancers full use of the theater and dance studios twenty-four/seven. I’ve been more grateful for that allowance tonight than ever.
This is the only place where I can escape my mind, and I have it all to myself.
Here, I focus on music and dancing.
Wrapped in that still silence that only the night can bring, it’s the perfect place for me.
The rows of empty seats stretching before me seem like silent sentinels watching without judging. The walls, like a tomb, protect me from the world outside, shutting down so it doesn’t exist inside here.
I’ve been a mess all damn day.
I never went back to sleep last night after that nightmare. I stayed up, wrecking my mind with my efforts to remember the face that came to me. And who it belonged to.
Each time I tried, the memory slipped away like water running through my fingers.
Throughout the day, as I thought and thought and thought, I wondered if I should call someone and tell them. But tell them what?
That I saw the vague, fuzzy face of a man in my nightmare?
It’s hardly newsworthy. If I remembered who it was, that would be a different story. Chances are the face belonged to Tommy.
Or… my father?
I don’t know.
It’s weird. In my gut, I have this eerie feeling that it wasn’t either of them or anyone I really know. Which could mean it was someone else. That someone else was there that day.
If I could remember such a thing, it would clear my father’s name. And maybe, maybe end the feud between my family and Dmitri’s. But that’s a long, long shot.
That voice I always hear in the nightmare neither belongs to my father nor Tommy.
Last night, the voice felt like it belonged to the face. It’s just a feeling I have. And it’s not enough. Like every fucking thing.
I have to accept that my nightmares could just be nightmares. Not real.
Who’s to say they’re not figments of my imagination? Just because I’ve had the same recurring one for years doesn’t mean they’re memories.
Last night’s nightmare could have been different because I’m so stressed out.
I don’t know who wouldn’t be after the week I’ve had. There’s the contract, this crazy whirlwind romance with Dmitri where I not allowed to see him, and then there’s his father, who seems to have it out for me.
So, the bottom line is, I could have been dreaming about anything . It could be something I made up or remnants of a movie.
Everything in my head counts for shit.
And everything is shit.
It doesn’t help that I didn’t see Dmitri again today and I don’t know what’s happening.
I walk over to the music player and select the music for my routine. It’s from my favorite collection from Bach.
The piano music spills through the speakers, delicate and haunting, weaving through the air and covering me like a cocoon.
I take a moment to breathe and balance my mind to reach what remains of my inner calm. Then I walk to center stage and take my position, getting ready for my cue to dance.
This is a routine that’s still a work in progress. I’m choreographing it with my tutor for my finals next year. I have a few shows with Raventhorn between now and then, but this is the routine that will count toward my final grade. It’s supposed to encompass one emotion at different levels. I’ve chosen grief.
I hear the note and lift my arms and my body en pointe, becoming the free-spirited version of myself.
I float across the stage, getting lost in my movements and the dulcet tones of the music.
The tension in my chest unwinds with every turn, every spin, every leap. I drown it in the music, letting the piano’s melancholic melody swallow it whole.
The mirrors flash around me with every pirouette, catching my reflection as I turn again and again.
My muscles thank me for the familiar pain and flow of movements through my body.
Then the final chords play. I leap through the air with my arms stretched wide, my legs in a perfect arc. For a moment, I could be flying. Flying like a graceful swan to the edge of the sun and beyond.
I land with a soft thud and lift into a high arabesque. There I stay, listening to the piano music fade into silence.
Mere seconds pass before the creak of a footstep on the floorboard catches my attention. It’s behind me.
Quickly, I straighten, and my head snaps toward the sound as I realize with a fright that I’m not alone. But the sight of the man who’s plagued my dreams asleep and awake has my heart beating faster.
Dmitri is standing by the curtains, the black leather jacket he’s wearing almost blending in with the shadows.
My nerves scatter, and I turn to look at him, hoping he isn’t a figment of my imagination or that he’ll fade away like my memories.
I remember thinking something similar back in New York when he came to see the show. I thought he would disappear then, too.
But he was real then. And he’s real now.
He’s really here.
I lift a hand to my heart as I realize that this is next time .
He came to find me.
My soul lifts at the thought, and the thrill of having another chance—even one more—to be with him has me moving toward him.
Unlike last week, I want him to be my Hades. I don’t want to be free, and I don’t want to think of anybody else but me and him together. I want him to take me to the deepest parts of the Underworld and keep me there forever.
I stop in front of him, and he gazes down at me.
“Hello, Spider.” God, that voice. I could bottle it and keep it locked in my heart forever.
“Scorpion.”
“Sorry it took me so long.” He steps forward, and that’s it.
I throw myself into his awaiting arms, and he pulls me flush against his hard body.
The strong sound of his heartbeat fills my ear, and I savor it, inhaling him and committing everything to memory.
His hands slide down to my waist, and I’m surprised when he lifts me into the air like one of the male dancers would for a lift. This is different. The is sexy, and my insides melt from the predatory look in his eyes.
Dmitri smiles up at me, holding me in place above him with his big, strong arms. “Missed me?”
“Yes.” I smile back.
“How much?”
“Too much.”
“You can never miss me too much, Spider. If you have a limit, I’m not doing my job properly.”
He can do whatever he wants to me. I’ll take it. “I’m still waiting for you.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. I still need to do the job. Let me show you.”
With a sinful grin, he carries me across the stage, and we move through the backdrop curtains. We stop between the decorated wall and the crates of stage supplies, where we’ll be completely hidden. We’re alone here, but even if someone were to come by, they wouldn’t find us.
Dmitri lowers me to my feet but pushes me up against the wall and kisses me like a man starving for oxygen.
His kiss is possessive with a hint of playfulness that comes out when he drags my bottom lip out with his teeth.
He smiles against my lips as I try not to giggle.
“You like that?” He brushes his nose against mine.
“Yes.”
“Good, little spider.” His hungry eyes bore into me, filled with wanton desire, making me shudder from the intensity. “I plan to unravel you piece by piece so I can worship every inch of your body. When I’m done with you, you’ll know who you belong to. Then you can worship me, too.”
My throat dries as if stuffed with sand and cotton from the rawness of his words. But the sensation is quickly replaced by the heat of his lips as he crushes them to mine again.
Wrapping his strong arms around my body, he molds his hard chest to mine, and I part my lips for his tongue to taste me, and me to taste him. That taste of power, masculinity, and sin.
Dmitri kisses me back with passion and need and hunger, pushing me harder against the wall. His hard cock presses into my stomach, the stab making my pussy heat and clench with that desperation for him to be inside.
He rolls his hips into mine, and I moan into his mouth.
Every nerve under my skin is ablaze and my mind adrift, charged with electricity.
His cock rubs between my thighs, and I remember how long and thick it is. My body responds to his like a magnet, and I get lost in his kisses and his touch.
Dmitri pulls away, leaving me panting and needing him to come back to my lips, but his eyes promise more.
With a flick of his fingers, he undoes the little tie on the side of my wrap-over sweater and peels it off me. Then he feels up my breasts with both hands and tugs at my leotard. “Take your clothes off for me. I want to watch you. Take everything off.”
“Okay…”
My hands tremble as I slide the leotard down my body, taking off my skirt and panties at the same time.
I take off my bra and slip out of my shoes, setting everything to the side by the nearest crate.
Dmitri grabs my arm and turns me so my back is to him. Then he bends me over slightly so he can run his hands over my ass, squeezing my cheeks.
“Fuck. I’m never going to get enough of you, Mackenzie Domachenkov.”
I glance back at him, holding his gaze. His fingers flutter to the slit of my pussy, and I flinch.
“You’re already so wet for me.” He slides his fingers into my wet folds and strokes my clit.
I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the pulse in my clit throb from the stroke of his thick fingers.
I gasp as he flips me around, then he’s crouching and spreading my legs.
He buries his face between my thighs and licks me once across my folds before he starts eating me up, lapping, biting, tasting.
I breathe hard between the thrusts of his tongue, pressing into the wall while I relish the attention he’s giving my body.
This is unreal. He’s unreal, and I’ll happily go crazy on the pleasure he’s giving me.
I moan out loud as he sucks hard on my clit, teasing the orgasm from me.
Seconds later, he has me lost in delirium as I come, writhing in his grasp.
He holds me in place, pumping more pleasure into me with his tongue, then he stands and shrugs out of his clothes.
I admire the masterpiece of his naked body and his erect cock straining toward me. He grabs it and flexes his hand down his length as if showcasing it to me.
“Ready for me, Spider?”
“Yes.”
“Come here.” He reaches for me, lifting my leg around his waist and cupping my face. “Remember, I won’t be gentle.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
Dmitri leans close, until we breathe the same air. “Good.”
He lines up his cock with my entrance, pushes in, then thrusts deep inside my pussy.
My skin goes up in flames, and an electric shock paralyzes my soul from the impact. I cry out loud, unable to control the sound.
I was ready for him, but he’s so big, and the possession of his relentless thrusts has my entire body caught in a maelstrom.
We both groan as he slides back and forth in my passage. The sweet sensation then ripples through me, and we stare deep into each other’s eyes, as if marking this moment as the end of our friendship and the start of something new.
He’s not my friend anymore . The thought is almost bittersweet. It floats through my mind like leaves in the wind, and it’s gone when he pulls out a little and thrusts back in again.
Speeding up as he moves inside me, the gesture reminding me he was never really just a friend.
Shoving me harder against the wall, he tunnels into my body, his hard cock going deeper, harder, faster, claiming me just as he said he would— not gently .
It hurts, but it’s a good sort of pain, and I cry out as such from the wild pleasure coursing through me.
He lifts me so I can wrap my legs around him, then he ruts into me like an animal, fucking me like he owns every part of me.
I come again, grabbing his shoulders and throwing my head back. That encourages him to fuck me even harder.
Dmitri pounds into me with desperation, locking me in the mad rhythm and holding me captive to his mercy.
The sloppy wet sounds of our arousal and slaps of flesh against flesh dominate the air. I’m glad he’s holding me, or I would’ve faded away the moment he slid inside me.
My body trembles from numbness and heat, and just when I think it’s too much, he gives me more.
A deep grunt rumbles from his chest as he fucks me faster, his vicious pace escalating by the second. I’ve never been taken in such a way.
It’s crazy, wild, and raw, angry fucking. He hammers into me, claiming my body like he’s making up for lost time and wants to cleanse me of anyone before him. Like there never should have been anyone but him.
That’s how it should have been for both of us.
His hand slides up to my neck and catches my throat. “Tell me you’re mine, Mackenzie.”
I gaze down at him pounding into me, looking like he needs to hear me say the words. “I’m yours.”
“Always. Remember that. You’re mine always.”
“I’m yours.”
Another orgasm grips me, and my shriek echoes in the air. My pussy pulses around his cock, my body convulsing. The wild orgasm tears through me like a tornado, and I’m helpless in its grasp.
Dmitri comes, too, and I feel waves of hot cum flooding my aching pussy.
He continues moving inside me slowly until he stops, then he holds me to him, waiting for our breathing to calm.
Fire still licks at my skin when he pulls out of me and lowers me back down to the ground.
My legs tremble, and the tremor travels up my body. He notices and slips his arm around my waist to hold me up.
I sink into his sweat-covered skin, his heart beating as rapidly as mine. He holds me there, and I take a few heartbeats to think about what we just did.
We just had crazy sex. Us. Dmitri and me.
Now we’re standing here naked together with his cum leaking down my thighs.
My awareness returns, and the sexual haze clears, allowing fear to floats back into my mind as I consider the thought that this may be another goodbye.
I grip onto his chest as my heart aches.
I couldn’t stand saying goodbye again.
This week was hard enough.
Pulling away, he gazes down at me.
“This is it again, isn’t it?” I stutter. “The next time I see you, we’ll be strangers again.”
He shakes his head. “No. I’m taking you to my place, to bed with me.”
“Really?” That is risky as hell, but there’s no way I’m turning down the chance to be with him in his bed.
“Yes. I’m not done with you yet, Spider. I’m still on the job.” He winks at me, and I smile.
When he lowers his head to kiss me, I move toward him, too.
I’m not done with him yet either.
I’ll never be.