27
Lucia
Mikhail has gone completely silent since the moment on the sidewalk when I confessed about my need to go back to Dad. He doesn’t say a word while I buy several pairs of bras and panties. The store I choose is one of the luxury brands I’m used to wearing but that doesn’t seem to faze him.
On our way back, I shamelessly clutch onto him tightly with both my arms, pretending to still be scared of riding the motorcycle. I’m helplessly falling in love with my captors despite them treating me so roughly.
Maybe I’m just as messed up in the head as them.
Leon showed me a side to him that should’ve scared me. The blood and gore were disturbing. I could barely stomach the idea of having sex with three dying men in the same room, but at the end of it all, I still want Leon.
It’s the same with Damien. My disgust for him evaporated the moment I realized who he was and how he got those scars.
Despite hating me, they’ve kept me safe. They got me through my heat without hurting me and despite their hatred, made sure to look after me. Not only that, they’re risking their lives to keep Callum away from me.
Despite telling me they own me, they’re giving me choices I never had.
They may not trust me yet but that doesn’t stop me from loving them.
The bike comes to a sudden halt, throwing me up against Mikhail’s back. Looking up, I see we’re beside the diner I’d mentioned to him earlier.
“Get off,” he says in a heavy, commanding tone.
I awkwardly climb down the bike and fidget with the clasp of my helmet. Mikhail comes up beside me and bats my hands away. With one ‘click’, he unlatches the strap and easily removes the helmet from my head.
Locking our helmets to the bike, he grabs my wrist and pulls me alongside him. I expect him to enter the diner. Instead, Mikhail drags me toward the building’s back.
Overflowing trash cans line the wall here. Smoke from the exhaust pipes wafts over our heads. A few streetlamps illuminate the area but most of it is shrouded in shadows.
“What are we doing here?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer but suddenly, he’s pushing me against a wall, his mouth crashing onto mine, his tongue invading through my open lips. He drinks my gasps of surprise while his hand slides up my thigh.
“You can’t leave us,” he grates through clenched teeth. “Ever.”
A moan escapes me. “I just...”
His mouth smashes against mine once again, stopping me from speaking a word. He reaches between my thighs and cups my sex. Even though I bought a bunch of underwear, I’m not wearing any panties.
The moment he realizes it, Mikhail takes full advantage.
My hands dig into the strands of his ash-blond hair as his finger slides along my wet seam. I’m kissing him back with the same fervor when something makes me stop and freeze.
Someone nearby is coughing hoarsely.
“Mikhail,” I plead, struggling to push him away. “Stop! Someone’s watching us.”
He glances behind him, allowing me to peek around his broad shoulders. A gaunt, elderly man is sitting on a litter-strewn sidewalk and taking deep swigs from a whiskey bottle.
I push Mikhail harder. “We can’t do this here.”
A deadly frown comes over his handsome face as he glares at me. “I want you here. Right now.”
“But that man is watching us.”
“So what?”
I stare at him. “Mikhail, we can’t—” I’m barely able to complete the sentence when he slams me back against the wall and starts kissing me once again while his thumb traces over my pussy.
My core aches with his teasing, almost making me forget about the spectator witnessing us making out in a public space.
A week ago, I couldn’t have imagined being taken by three men at once. Even in my wildest dreams, I could’ve never imagined having sex in front of three chained-up, bleeding men. And now, Mikhail is bullying me into breaking another one of my hard limits.
His mouth twists into a smirk as my hips buck against his hand, seeking more friction.
“You want this, Princess,” he says with a chuckle. “Stop pretending you’re too good for this.”
My head falls back against the wall as he slides two fingers into my soaking folds. From this position, I can see the man behind us. One of his hands holds the bottle of liquor while the other is buried deep inside his pants.
“He’s touching himself,” I whisper, struggling to keep a control over my mind.
“So, what? This is where people come to have a quick fuck every day. It happens several times a day. Everyone knows what this place is for.”
Heat courses through my veins as he hooks his fingers deep inside me, sending a hard tug in my core. My walls clench onto his digits and the next moment, I’m coming apart with hard gasps and pants.
Mikhail leans in and licks the apple of my cheek. “Have you ever come so fast?” he whispers.
His gleaming eyes pin me with a predatorial look. Thrusting his hips forward, he makes me feel the hard lump against the front of his trousers.
A groan escapes me.
Taking it as his cue, he unzips his jeans and lets them fall until they bunch up and pool around his mid-thighs. He has absolutely no hesitation in displaying his ass to a complete stranger.
The thought sends a massive throb through me, surprising me.
Grabbing my wrists, Mikhail pins them over my head. Bending down slightly, he lets his curved erection poke at my soaked folds. The moment he gets the angle right, he thrusts in, pushing inside me with one hard, satisfying stroke.
Suddenly, I feel him pulling out all the way.
I almost start protesting but the next moment, he thrusts into me again, shoving me against the wall.
I yowl at the sensations razing through me. Even though I’m wet, it takes a while for me to adjust to his thickness stretching me to my limits.
His hold on my wrists loosens. Sliding his hands down my body, he grips my hips in a bruising hold, and starts thrusting inside me.
I struggle to stay quiet as he plunges into me, but fail. My soft moans mingle with his growls and groans. The scent of sweet oranges wraps around me, making me more familiar with his pheromones.
The embarrassing sound of skin slapping against skin rises between us, amplifying the heat of the situation. Hot, pulsing pleasure erupts deep inside me, drowning all my senses in a sea of lust. Within minutes, I’m blinded to the man who’s probably jerking off to us.
My fingers dig into his broad, muscular shoulders as my body tightens in a familiar sensation. I’m close to reaching my climax, my hips moving of their own accord, matching his thrusts.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls. “And, growing tighter. Fuck!”
He’s right. I’m still aware of the man watching us. Knowing someone is jerking off to us makes my insides clench harder.
“Fuck, I’m getting so close,” Mikhail grunts.
His strokes grow harder and faster, and soon we’re both gasping for breath and panting harshly.
We reach our peak together, our bodies shuddering against each other. His cock pulses against my throbbing channel, shooting scorching hot waves of his semen deep inside me.
Pulling out gently, he steps away.
The moment his hold on my hips vanishes, I sink to the ground. My knees are suddenly too weak to hold my weight.
He’s beside me in an instant and moving the thick strands of hair away from my face. “Are you okay, babe?”
I nod, my mind still too hazy from the pleasure still pulsing through me.
It’s a while before I become aware of my surroundings. My gaze roves all around the dark corners of the diner’s backyard, searching for the man who’d witnessed my shame and pleasure.
“He’s gone,” Mikhail says, guessing what I’m looking for. “Did you think he was going to hang around and wait for me to bash his head against the sidewalk?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter, slowly getting to my feet. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“I’m glad,” he says with a roguish grin. “I want you to have a lot of firsts with me.”
Warm, thick liquid slides down my pussy, making me squirm.
Mikhail is quick to notice my discomfort. “What is it?” he asks immediately.
“I need some tissues,” I say, parting my thighs and standing in an awkward pose. “To clean up, you know...”
He pecks me on the lips and grins. “Here, use this.” He brings out a handkerchief from his pocket.
“It’ll get dirty,” I say with a groan.
“I just had my dick inside you, Princess. It’s okay to use this to clean the mess I made.”
My cheeks burn as he thrusts the handkerchief into my hand.
“Hurry up,” he says, turning his back on me. “I’m freaking starving now.”
I look around the trash cans and the sidewalk on the opposite side to make sure no one is around. Bending down, I use the cloth to wipe myself clean. A trip to the restroom inside the diner would help too.
Dumping the handkerchief in one of the overflowing bins, I walk over to Mikhail. “I’m done,” I say in a soft voice.
Grabbing my wrist, he pulls me against him. “Let’s get some food. I’m sure you’re starving too.”
A quiet breath of relief escapes me. I hated him being so quiet. His naughty smirks and wide grins make my heart throb with inexplicable happiness. Without them, I feel too cold inside.
The diner is bustling with activity. I look all around the place, taking in the old-fashioned booths, the waitresses in bright yellow uniforms, and the walls pasted with photographs from several decades ago.
Mikhail leads me to a booth at the back and we sit down.
“Why do you look so excited?” Mikhail asks. “Are you hoping for round two in the men’s room?”
“What? N—no!”
He chuckles as I stammer.
“It’s just that I’ve always wanted to come to a place like this,” I say, taking a deep breath and gathering my thoughts. “My friends back in school preferred restaurants hosting famous chefs and after Callum rejoined the family, I was never allowed to eat outside without his supervision. I never got a chance to do something as simple as having pancakes in a place like this.”
A somber look comes over him. “You should tell Damien about these things,” he says in a grim tone. “It’ll help him understand the life you’ve had to live with your brother.”
“Would he treat me better?”
He nods. “Leon heard some pretty fucked-up things coming out of Callum’s mouth when he went to deliver our location to him. That’s what made Damien keep you with us instead of handing you over to him. He took a huge risk to do that for you. You already saw the consequences last night.”
Just as I’m about to ask what Leon heard, a middle-aged waitress walks over to our table.
“Coffee?” she asks in a bored voice and proceeds to fill two mugs on the table without waiting for an answer.
“Thanks,” I mutter, accepting my cup.
“What can I get you?” she asks briskly.
“A steak dinner for me,” Mikhail says with a sweet smile.
The woman rolls her eyes at him and fixes her impatient stare at me.
“I...uhh...” My gaze races down the menu card. “The fried chicken with gravy and fries, please.”
The waitress moves away without a word.
“I like it here,” I say with a smile. “No one expects me to put any effort into being polite. It’s freeing.”
Mikhail stares at me with a strange emotion in his eyes.
“What?” I question.
“Just checking if you’re faking it.”
An ache goes through me. Tears suddenly prick my eyes, making my vision go hazy. What would it take for them to trust me?
“Are you crying?” he asks in a suddenly worried tone.
I brush the tears away. “I’m fine.”
“So, you do know how to lie.”
Silence falls over us. Laying my head on the table, I avoid looking at him.
To my surprise, he lets me mope without bothering to cheer me up.
Even this is so different from the way Callum treats me. I’m always expected to smile before him even if my heart is shattering. My brother hates tears.
It was always exhausting to pretend in front of him. My shoulders were always burdened with the weight of responsibility toward the maids and the valets who worked for us. They were the ones who got hurt for my mistakes.
I’m one messed-up woman for living a better life with my captors.
“Your order’s here,” a familiar voice reaches my ears.
Raising my head, I see our waitress. She’s come back with our food and is placing Mikhail’s dish before him.
“Enjoy,” she says in an emotionless tone as she places my plate before me.
The sight of four huge pieces of southern fried chicken, slathered with thick, rich gravy, instantly cheers me up. I inhale the scent of the deep-fried food, feeling my mouth water at once.
I love deep-fried stuff. They give me greater pleasure than chocolates and sweets. Of course, Callum deemed them unhealthy and contrabanded them from our dinner table.
Picking up a thick-cut fry, I dip it into the gravy and take a bite. My eyes nearly close at the delicious taste.
Ignoring Mikhail, I tuck into the rest of the meal. He doesn’t comment even when I tear apart the chicken to separate the crispy fried skin from them. I lick at the grease coating my fingers, thoroughly enjoying my meal.
“Want some dessert?” Mikhail asks after a while.
I’m already full from the meal but I nod anyway. Who knows what will happen in the future? I might as well use this opportunity to gorge on my favorite foods like there’s no tomorrow.
“Sure. I want to try their pecan pie.”
“That’s my favorite too,” he says with a grin. Calling our waitress back to the table, he orders our dessert.
“Thank you,” I say after a while.
“For what?”
I gesture all around the diner. “This. It’s been a while since I got treated for real.”
“Stop, already,” he says with an exaggerated sigh. “I get it. You lived as a prisoner in your high tower with a dragon guarding you.”
“It’s not funny.”
“Never said it was. It’s just...hard to believe.”
“Fine. Hand me over to Callum and rid yourself of the burden. Or are you and your brothers so fucked in the head that you’ll keep me until you finally get bored of me? And, then what? You’ll kill me and burn my corpse in the woods?”
His silvery eyes flash with anger. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
Thankfully, our waitress comes back with our pies before he can hurl further threats at me. I should be scared and meek before him but something keeps giving me the courage to lash out at him.
Am I going to get myself killed soon? I wonder, taking a bite of the pie.
The pie’s sweet filling and flaky crust make me feel like I can happily die after finishing the slice on my plate.
When our meal is over, Mikhail leads me out of the diner and toward the parking lot.
The chilly night makes me button up the front of my jacket. Mikhail places the helmet on my head and latches it for me. The gesture is sweet and protective. I smile but he doesn’t notice it in the dark.
“A word of caution, Princess,” he says as he mounts his bike. “Damien’s going to be pissed when we return home. He has no idea what we’ve been up to. So, brace yourself.”
“He’s going to be mad at me?”
“Can’t say yet,” he says, gesturing for me to climb up behind him. “I’m just giving you a tornado warning.”
I climb up behind him with my signature awkwardness. Once I’m settled, Mikhail starts the bike and within seconds, we’re shooting down the dark, nearly empty highway.
I let the roar of the wind wash away my apprehension. Everything that I’ve gone through until now has taught me one single lesson. I have to enjoy the moment without worrying about the future. It’s the only way to survive these men who hold my heart in their hands.