Chapter 17
Being alone with Daniel wasn’t something that I really had given any thought to. Of course, I offered him my support in whatever capacity that he can use it. Yet, the very first moment of us collaborating feels awkward and uncomfortable. Henry skips off in the direction of his bedroom, mumbling something about his homework and that he couldn’t wait to see us all tomorrow.
Already the weight of what our loss might do to him churns in my mind.
How many people has he lost? How sheltered is he? Is that a question that I’m allowed to ask?
Daniel sits across from me. His posture is relaxed, comfortable. Funny how both of us are such established, lethal killers and yet we both sit with such a good display of casual ease near one another.
“I don’t hear any screaming, I guess they are getting along.” I mutter, hoping to break the tension. Though, to look at him, I’m the only one that feels at all uncomfortable.
“I would think they had quite a few things in common.” Daniel answers as he unbuttons his cuffs and starts to roll up his sleeves. “Helena is happy to have you here, I hope that you feel comfortable staying here as long as you like. My home is open to you both, no matter how all of this goes. You’re family after all.”
“I wish I could have been at the wedding…” I trail off. A vision of walking Helena down an aisle to a man that would treat her right flashes in front of my mind. “I guess I missed a lot of important events…”
It shouldn’t keep surprising me, I’ve missed so many things under the guise of business being the priority. Our father had always insisted on it and work was the most important thing to me until Lilian… and then Helena came crashing back into my life when it wasn’t safe. Then father had gone and thrown her to the wolves anyway.
I’m proud of her for coming back and leading the pack. I can’t fathom how hard it must have been for her to pick herself up and become the woman she is right now, the one who welcomed an estranged brother and the wife of her husband’s enemy – her own biggest enemy, into her home. Nikolai did unspeakable things to all three these important women in my life, if the way he treated Anya is any indicator.
“Once the war is over, you two can make up for lost time. I believe that is what she wants,” Daniel offers.
I nod once. Of course that’s what I want, but there are bridges that I don’t know how to cross. There are so many years that are unaccounted for between Helena and I.
“But there is nothing wrong with you taking the time that you need, either,” he continues.
“Thank you for letting me meet Henry,” I answer. It’s the only thing that I know to answer at this point. The only thing that I’m absolutely sure of.
Daniel contemplates for a moment, seeming to weigh his next words on his tongue. “He’s not yours, is he?”
There’s no judgment, no accusation in the words. He seems to be testing the grounds, seeing how I react maybe? I don’t know if I’m ready to answer that question out loud. I don’t know if I want to confirm or deny those suspicions until I talk to Anya about it at the very least.
“I think I’m going to go check on the girls, if it’s all the same to you.” It’s a cop out, we both know it. At least he’s enough of a gentleman to not call me out on it right away. He nods, heading up in the direction that Henry just left.
I assume that, since Helena didn’t come back down, Anya’s still awake. I don’t know why she rushed off, if she’s just not feeling well or if it is something else. Either way, I want to check on her. I knock on the door softly and Helena opens it. She smiles at me awkwardly with too many teeth showing before ducking under my arm and quickly disappearing down the hallway.
“Have a good night!” She calls over her shoulder ominously.
I almost question it, but go inside the room instead. “Hey–” I start but trail off as I notice that Anya is curled up in the bed. Her arms wrapped around her legs in the fetal position as she stares off at the blank wall ahead of her. Worry floods me. Not that she doesn’t have every right to be upset about anything that she chooses, she absolutely does. But that doesn’t mean that I want her suffering all by herself. We’ve been through far too much to cope alone now. Did Helena say something to upset her? Had I read the situation all wrong?
“Hey, is everything ok?” I move around to the side of the bed where she’s staring off into the distance. A soft shrug of her shoulder is the only answer that I get. “Uh-uh, princess, that’s not how any of this is going to work. You might have gotten away with keeping shit all bottled up before, but you’re not going to get away with it now.” I reach up and brush her bangs out of her face. “Did something happen?”
She closes her eyes, but it looks like she’s blinking back tears and I don’t like it. I don’t want her to have to deal with this alone.
“I’m fine.” She manages a weak smile.
“You’re not convincing anyone at all,” I warn her, my voice dipping lower.
“Really, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine.”
“If it bothers you, then it bothers me.” I reassure her. “Can I help you feel better?”
She deliberates for just a moment, and then nods softly. She shifts, holding her wrists out in front of her. I see it for the offer that it is. A single tear rolls down her cheek. “Make me forget it… please.”
I don’t know what triggered her, or what might be happening in her head, but I’m happy to do this for her. I lean forward, and kiss her forehead softly. “Okay princess. On your knees.”
Slowly, sluggishly, she shuffles upward, harder to do since she doesn’t move her hands from where they are offered to me. She closes her eyes and tears roll down her cheeks. I pull her shirt over her head and off of her arms before moving. It doesn’t take long to find makeshift restraints in the room. Ties of the lush robes left in here for us, a belt… certainly not my personal preference but they will do. I loop the belt to make a form of cuffs, careful not to tighten them around her wrists themselves but right above them until she can’t move her hands. The softer rope that I found I used to loop around her waist and between her perfect breasts until I can lift her hands up and behind her head, securing her cuffed wrists so the back of the crisscrossed soft restraint I have her in, angling her breasts up for me. I quickly remove her pants and throw them aside, bared for me as she ought to always be.
A possibility to look forward to after the war is over, maybe.
I lift Anya with a hand on either side of her ribs and move her to the center of the bed, facing the headboard. I walk a half circle around the bed, appreciating the curve of her hips and how they taper to her full thighs. Her knees parted just enough that I can see the growing moisture between her thighs as she watches me, wondering what I’m going to do. If I had any of the tools that I had accumulated in my last apartment, we could make a whole afternoon out of her pleasure. But, for now, she just needs to take the edge off to sleep.
Carefully, gingerly, I pull the black t-shirt over my head and wad it up into a ball, tossing it aside. I walk on my knees up onto the bed until I’m in front of her.
“Comfortable, princess?” I ask, a hint of authority in the tone.
She nods.
“Out loud, princess,” I instruct, curling a finger under her chin to lift her face to me.
“Yes, sir.”
My smile turns wicked the moment that she gives me a title.
“Such a good girl, so obedient.” Absently, I wonder if she’s bent this easy to men before me. Some foolish male part of me hopes that she made them work a lot harder for it. I wonder if anybody has ever looked at her as the gift that she truly is. Her submission, her willingness to trust me while helpless like this, it’s not to be taken lightly. I can do anything that I want to her right now, it’s a heady feeling.
My fingers pinch her nipple, and she gasps as I use it to pull her closer to me. She nearly knocks off balance and crashes into my chest. It takes effort for her to keep from touching me without permission and I admire her like hell for it.
“Pain or pleasure?” I ask, letting her choose the direction this goes.
From the look on her face, I can tell she’s used to being ordered about without a say. I wish I could say I was surprised. Nikolai isn’t the kind of man to give a single shit about what the women he fucks wants. He likely considers their pleasure an afterthought or a happy accident.
I shove comparisons out of my head.
“...both?” She asks timidly.
“Which do you need right now, pain or pleasure?” Which heightens her senses more? Which makes her toes curl? What will keep her mind the most occupied.
“Pain…” Anya whispers so softly that I almost don’t hear her. I smile encouragingly.
“Good girl,” and I mean it.
I pinch her nipple again, harder this time, rolling the skin between my fingers so that the bite of pain registers just a moment before I slap her breast, marveling at the way it moves. Her perfect bronzed skin turns a delightful shade of red from the impact and from the similar flush over her cheeks and chest – she gets off on the pain.
I can’t beat her like Nikolai does, I could never do that, but oh, we can play.
I rake my fingers over the bare skin of her stomach, curving lower until I can cup her sex in my hand. “You want to be used, princess?” I ask darkly, a finger parting her folds, teasing the sensitive skin there. “Would you like to be an object for my pleasure, or does a pretty girl like you crave being worshiped?”
“Use me,” she breathes as I rub my middle finger in slow circles around her clit. “Make me yours, sir.”
“You’ve more than earned it, haven’t you?” My fingers dip lower, fitting two, then three inside of her. I work her clit with my thumb as her breathing turns shallow. “Took such great care of me, nursed me back to health,…” I praise her, watching as her head starts to fall back into the cradle of her arms. I lean in close to her, my voice a whisper against her lips. “All so you can be fucked like my pretty little slut, isn’t it, princess?”
She nods, her eyes drifting shut before I claim her lips, my tongue running the seam of her until she opens for me, parting her lips so I can devour her, taste her as she struggles to stay upright. I smirk into the kiss and slap her breast sharply again.
She trembles against me, careful not to lean too far forward. Oh, if only I could blindfold her, then it would truly heighten the experience for her.
“Sir, please.”
My hand lifts, slipping around her neck and holding her in place tightly as I work my fingers into her. On reflex, her knees part as I pick up the pace, twisting and pumping my fingers against that spot that makes her go breathless each and every time. Closer, closer, but she will not fall over that edge until I tell her too. The moment that she starts to grip me back, I tighten my hold around her throat, cutting off her supply of oxygen just enough to heighten the sensation, to build that fear-based adrenaline.
I flip her when she’s close, off balance her face crashes into the mattress as I lift her hips back up into the air, prone and helpless as I spank her until her lovely skin turns the same shade of red, until her moans cannot be stifled by her biting the bedding that she’s laying on. I don’t care who hears us, she needs to feel me, to feel alive and I’m going to give her that.
I rake my fingers up the reddened skin, watching the way it changes colors and fades back to red before I free myself from the confines of my pants. She gets no warning as I enter her, fucking her exactly as she asked to. Hard, relentless and brutal. I hold onto her hips as leverage, the sound of skin on skin a drum beat as she comes undone. Something loosens within her. I can practically see the tension melting out of her shoulders.
Using the arm restraint, I lift her until her back is almost touching my front so that I can wrap my hand around her slender neck once more. Higher and higher, I feel her climbing as I play with her ability to breathe. Her moans punctuated with every brutal thrust of my hips into her, filling her and then some. My free hand roams her body, slapping her breasts or pulling her hard nipples. My mouth finds the curve of her neck and bites, a claiming mark that she can wear. A bruise to cover those left before me and something that she can see. No matter how things go in the next phase, this she can carry. I will fill her with me, leave my handprints like war paint on her skin.
Mine for as long as she will have me.
“Alek! I’m- fuck please!”
“You want to cum for me?” I ask, my voice husky in her ear.
“Please! Please let me cum!”
“Cum for me princess, be a good girl.” I rake my hand down the flat plane of her belly and find her clit and I pinch hard. The blend of sensations throws her over the edge, higher as I sever the supply of air to her lungs, making her dizzy with sensation. Her core clenches and her muscles tense as her orgasm crests and when I pull my hand from her throat she nearly collapses forward.
“I’m not finished with you yet.”
She looks back at me with her beautiful brown eyes with something akin to worry and I resume my pace. I drop her, pushing her face into the mattress once more.
“Inside, please.” I hear her beg, an edge of desperation to her words that I can’t deny.
“Beg for it,” I order, not that I had any other plans anyway. I want to see me sliding down her thighs.
“Please, Alek, cum inside me, fill me… own me. Please. Only you.”
Her words rip me over the edge, throwing me through my own orgasm. I swear that I’ve never cum so hard in my life, my cum spilling around my cock and down her legs.
“Thank you.” She sobs into the mattress. “Thank you, sir.”
Softly, I pull her into my arms, she doesn’t even try to free her hands as I tuck her into my chest, where I hold her until she’s fast asleep.