Chapter 13 - Sera
SERA
He said he’d be watching. It’s only fair I get to watch too. But that—
Holy shit. I didn’t think it was possible to be even angrier and more turned on at the same time. I was wrong.
Alik was getting himself off to fantasies of me.
I stumble into the living room, brace myself against the back of the sofa as I try to catch my breath.
Watching that, him… I’m hot all over. Achy in places I forgot existed. Wet. Shockingly, embarrassingly wet between my thighs. My pussy is pulsing like a second heartbeat, one that only gets stronger, more insistent as I think about what I just witnessed.
His hand around his cock.
His head tipped back in pure bliss.
His release white and thick and heavy on his skin.
My name on his lips as he came all over himself.
Porca miseria! Feeling this aroused after being dried out and dormant for so long is seriously screwing with me. My face feels like it’s on fire, my spine dissolving into goo.
My nipples are painful points against my sports bra. I palm one breast, squeeze it, trying to relieve the pressure, but it only intensifies.
How dare he get me so worked up.
How dare he kiss me and touch me and then abandon me on the floor like I’m something that can be discarded, left behind, ignored.
I fucking hate him.
But in this moment, I hate myself too. Because I started it. I kissed him. I wanted him. Want him still. Even if he’d rather get off with his own hand than with me.
He wants to watch from afar? Fine, let him.
Fueled by thwarted lust and damaged pride, I start to strip in Alik’s living room. I don’t know where the cameras are, but I’m sure he’s installed enough to have an amazing view.
Up, off with my sports bra. The instant my breasts are free, my nipples get even harder, hypersensitive to the cool air.
Subconsciously, I move to cover myself back up.
I haven’t felt comfortable in my own skin since my uncle chained me over a mattress.
But on the surface, I’m healing, my bruises fading, along with some of the scars.
Alik’s seen me at my worst. It didn’t stop him from fantasizing about me just now. There’s no reason to hesitate about using this same body to torment him.
I prop my butt against the back of the sofa, let my vision go hazy and send my hands to wander, relearning the shape of myself.
Up over my stomach, under the subtle curves of my tits.
Across the tips. I palm the weight, cupping, squeezing, hoping my expression is broadcasting to Alik just how good I feel.
The apartment is silent except for my ragged breathing. No sound coming from behind Alik’s open office door.
The longer I tease my nipples, the more demanding the throb between my legs gets.
I coast my hands downward, slipping them beneath the waistband of my tight shorts, toeing off my sneakers before bending at the hip, pushing the shorts down in what can’t possibly be a sexy move.
But who cares, because now I’m naked and, in my lust-crazed state, I want Alik to see what he’s missing.
What he missed the chance to touch when he walked away.
I trail my hands back up my legs, coast them over the tops of my thighs.
I am stronger than I was a few weeks ago, my muscles rebounding better than I would’ve guessed.
I’ve always been proud of my legs, how long and lean they look, how powerful they are.
I let myself relish how they feel beneath my own touch, feeling bolder and bolder as I get closer to my pussy.
During one of my recent sleepless nights, I took care of some personal grooming and I’m maliciously glad of my tightly trimmed hair so that Alik’s cameras can catch the view.
One touch of my sodden flesh and I moan. I can’t remember the last time I’ve done this. Felt how soft and wet I am. How needy.
I skim my folds and sparks jump up my spine. I want more. More than that, I want him to want more—more of what he can’t have.
I indulge in a few strokes, lubricating my fingers with my own slickness, but keep the contact light. Enough to make me shiver, but not so much I can’t stop. That voyeuristic asshole doesn’t get to see me satisfied. I want him as on edge as he left me.
I drag my fingers through my slit once more, pulling moisture up and over my clit. I hover there, circling that needy nub once, twice, shuddering at the sensation that unfurls low in my belly. I spread my legs a little wider, giving Alik’s cameras an even more explicit view.
My fingers, my flesh. The dew coating my skin. The lushness he rejected.
The woman he rejected.
I circle my clit again. Have to bite my lip when my stomach clenches in anticipation. I’m getting too close, the threads holding me together fraying. My legs shaking as pleasure builds.
I bite my lip harder. Taste blood. And stop.
I pull my hand away, my fingers glistening. I shove a middle finger in the air, making it clear how wet I am. And exactly how I feel about him right now.
Fuck you.
A curse comes from down the hallway, then the sound of glass breaking. I grin. Mission accomplished.
Leaving my clothes on the floor, I saunter back to my bedroom, letting Alik and his cameras get a good view of my ass before I lock the door behind me. I’m proud of myself, and so keyed up and shaking with the need to come. I fall back on my bed, my hand instantly on my pussy.
I find the bundle of nerves at the top of my slit, stroke it the way I used to. There’s a skitter of sensation, but none of the sparks from moments ago. Head tipped back, eyes closed, I concentrate harder. Draw circles around the super sensitive spot, wait for light to dance behind my eyelids.
I mewl in frustration when the pounding pulse turns into a muted hum. Alone in my room, memories and darkness and doubts start to cram my head. Snippets from the recent past when my body wasn’t mine to use. My skin cools, goosebumps chasing away the fire.
I touch myself harder, more desperately. Want to cry when the precipice gets further away. It doesn’t make any fucking sense. When Alik was on top of me, kissing me, caressing me, he could’ve made me come with one more grind of his hips.
Hell, I could’ve gotten myself off just as easily while taunting him on camera.
A few more strokes and I would’ve been soaking my own hand and screaming in release.
But now, with Alik rooms away, a locked door between us, I’m failing at something so intrinsically mechanical, so basically human.
No matter what I do or what fantasy I conjure, I can’t recapture the pleasure.
I just lie there, helpless, as it vanishes completely.
Mortified, defeated, I pull my hand from between my legs and curl into a ball on the bed. Stuff a pillow against my mouth and scream.
I curse the world for being unfair.
Curse myself for being such an idiot.
Curse Alik most of all.
I wake up stiff, still naked, and absolutely starving. Early morning light creeps past the curtains. I was so worn out I slept through the whole afternoon and night, clear into the next day.
My stomach is growling before my feet hit the floor. I’m through my morning routine in record time and, hunger trumping embarrassment, am about to leave the bedroom and risk an encounter with Alik when the phone he gave me vibrates with an incoming call.
Speak of the devil. Alik’s name pops up on the screen.
I let it ring until voicemail kicks on. We don’t have anything to talk about.
He must disagree, because he calls two more times.
It’s only when I hear voices outside my bedroom that I grab the phone, heart thumping as he tries again.
I accept the call before the first ring is finished.
“Someone is the apartment,” I hiss into the phone. “Can you see them on the cameras?”
“Sera, stop. Calm down—”
I dash to the bed, grab his gun from where I stashed it beneath my pillow. Moving as far from the room’s entrance as I can get, I aim the weapon at the door. “It’s what’s left of my family, isn’t it? How did they find me? I thought they couldn’t find me here—”
“Sera. Marya, stop! Stop!” His command cuts through the blood rushing through my ears. “Your family didn’t find you. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He curses in Russian, sounding more irritated than worried, and somehow my tension starts to drain.
“Who is in the apartment, Alik? Tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“My men are there.” From the tone of his voice, I’d bet he’s squeezing the life out of the back of his neck.
Wait. “You have men?”
Alik ignores me. “You need to pack your things. You’re moving. This morning. Put everything you want to take on the bed then unlock the door. One of my men will make sure it gets to your new room.”
“What are you talking about? What new room?” A dull ache has set up shop behind my eyes. “What do you mean, I’m moving?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Dimitri is waiting, ready to drive you. He’s the bald one; you won’t be able to miss him.
You have five minutes to set aside whatever you want to bring, so get moving.
And put on actual clothes this time, not just a bra and tiny shorts.
It’s cold outside.” With that, he hangs up.
Dumbfounded, I stare at the floor, vaguely aware of footsteps on the other side. I near jump out of my skin when there’s a knock.
“Five minutes, Miss Sera,” a thickly accented voice says. “Starting now.”
Che cazzo?! I have no clue what’s happening and apparently don’t have time to figure it out.
Cracking open the door, gun concealed behind me, I count three—no four—giant men stalking through the apartment.
They’re dressed generically enough, dark clothes, dark glasses, dark gloves on their enormous hands, but I’ve grown up surrounded by men like these.
It only takes seconds to spot the various weapons concealed on their bodies, to estimate how much force they’d have to exert to tackle me to the ground if I tried to run.
Answer: not enough to stop two of them from blocking the door before I even get there.
No matter what kind of bizarre sexual power struggle Alik and I are engaged in, his authority still rules over this apartment and these men.
The largest of the bunch locks eyes with me.
The overhead lights glint off a head so smooth it shines like a bowling ball.
The man looks down at a subtly, ridiculously expensive watch before looking back at me.
“Chetyre minuty. Four minutes, Miss Sera.”
So that’s Dimitri.
Thoughts akimbo, I retreat into my room and hastily grab the small number of belongings I’ve ordered since arriving.
Books, laptop, headphones, toiletries. I dump them on the bed, throwing in all the clothes too, minus the jeans and sweater I’m now wearing.
Hair up in a rough ponytail, I shove my feet into my sneakers—the only pair of shoes I bothered buying—and barely have a chance to jam my phone into my back pocket before Dimitri swings open the door.
In his hand is a long puffy coat, the insignia on the upper arm telling me just how much Alik spent on it.
“For you.” He holds it out.
I take it, point at pile of stuff the bed. “For you. To move.”
He nods, shouts something to the other men in Russian, then says, “And the gun, Miss Sera.”
“Hmmm?”
“The gun the boss gave you. I’ll hold onto it until we get to our destination. After we arrive, it’s yours again.”
Arguing with him is futile. I pass the weapon over, making note of where he stashes it beneath his coat.
That done, he heads for the front door. I’m on Dimitri’s heels.
I don’t want to be left alone in the apartment with the remaining three.
Not that I think they’d hurt me, but everything about staying in a relatively small space with a group of men flips my fight or flight switch.
I have one foot in the hall when I stop, frozen. Between this place and Rocco’s basement, I’ve been in some sort of confinement for almost three months. Before that, my family kept me isolated for three years, cut off from everything but the Pagano clan’s dark, dank corner of the city.
I don’t know where Alik is moving me or how long it will take Dimitri to get us there, but I’m suddenly edgy, faced with a fear I never expected.
Being locked away is torture, but standing on the brink of the unknown is a different kind of terrifying.
A black hole I can’t see the bottom of. Don’t know how much it will hurt when I hit ground.
Dimitri realizes I’m not behind him, his shadow falling over me when he finds me in the doorway. “We leave now Miss Sera.”
I stare at him, eyes wide. “But where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there,” he says gruffly. “The move doesn’t make sense to me either, but the boss said he picked it out for you.”