Chapter 11
JENNA
My eyes snap open to the concrete ceiling and fluorescent light. The sheets stick to my skin with sweat, twisted around my legs from thrashing through another dream. Another dream about him.
This time, he had me bent over the sink, that mask still hiding his face while he fucked me from behind. His fingertips bruising my hips, that piercing dragging against places inside me I never knew existed.
I press my thighs together, feeling how wet I am.
Again.
“Fuck.” The word echoes off the walls of my cell.
I sit up, running fingers through my tangled hair. How long has it been? He brings food three times a day—or so I assume. By that count, it’s been at least ten days since Nikolai made me come on his fingers after I sucked his cock.
Ten days of him bringing my meals, setting the tray down, and leaving without a word.
Ten days of me trying every angle—stretching when he enters so my shirt rides up, bending over to pick things up, letting the blanket slip when I pretend to be asleep naked.
I took off my clothes since they’re dirty and decided to walk around naked.
And five times now, Nikolai has taken me to a shower and allowed me to wash.
Nothing.
He won’t even look at me properly anymore. Just deposits the food and leaves like I’m radioactive.
But I know what I felt. The way his whole body went rigid when I said his name. The way his breathing changed when he had his fingers inside me. The way he called me baby was like the word was ripped from somewhere deep.
My hand drifts between my legs before I can stop it. I’m so sensitive, so constantly wound up that just the light pressure makes me gasp.
Ten days of dreams. Ten days of waking up desperate and aching. Ten days of getting myself off in this concrete box, trying to stay quiet even though I know he’s probably watching through his cameras.
Sometimes I wonder if he is somewhere in this building with his cock in his hand, getting off to the sight of me fingering myself on his surveillance feed. The thought should disgust me.
Instead, it makes me wetter.
I pull my hand away, frustrated. This isn’t me. I don’t get hung up on men, especially not men who kidnap me and keep me in underground cells. But something about him has gotten under my skin worse than any drug.
Maybe it’s the isolation making me crazy. Nothing to do but count food deliveries and think about the man behind the mask.
The door opens, and there he is, like I conjured him with my desperate thoughts. But something’s different. No food tray. He never comes without food.
His tactical gear looks rumpled, like he threw it on in a hurry. His eyes above the mask burn with an unhinged quality.
“What are you trying to do?” he asks.
I sit up straighter on the cot, sheet pooling around my naked hips. “What do you mean?”
He slams the door behind him, the sound echoing like a gunshot. “Fucking calling my name in your sleep.” He takes two steps closer, hands clenched at his sides. “Every goddamn night. Nikolai. Over and over. I can’t fucking sleep, just lie there watching you with my dick as hard as a rock.”
My heart kicks up, but not from fear. This is it—the crack in his control I’ve been waiting for.
“Then why keep denying ourselves what we want?”
He goes completely still. Even through the mask, I can tell jaw is working by the way his temples flex.
I let the sheet fall away, watching his eyes track down my body. “I can’t help it. You’re haunting my dreams.” My voice drops lower, rougher with the truth of it. “I wake up soaking wet and needy for you.”
His whole body shudders. Those big hands flex open and closed like he’s fighting not to reach for me.
“Ten days,” I continue, spreading my legs just enough for him to see how wet I already am. “Ten days of you bringing me food and running away like a scared little boy. Ten days of getting myself off while thinking about you.”
A sound tears from behind his mask—half growl, half groan.
“Is that what you do?” I trail my hand down my stomach, stopping just above where I ache for him. “Watch me on that camera while you stroke your cock? Watch me finger myself and wish it was you?”
“Jenna.” My name comes out strangled.
“I know you want me.” I lean back on my elbows, exposed. “So why are you fighting it?”
He moves so fast I barely track it. One second he’s standing there fighting himself, the next he’s yanking his tactical pants open, that thick cock with its metal piercing springing free.
“You want to play games?” His voice comes out raw behind the mask as he climbs over me on the narrow cot. “Let’s fucking play.”
The first slide of his cock against my clit makes me cry out. The metal jewelry drags across that sensitive bundle of nerves and my hips buck up involuntarily.
“Look at me.” His free hand grips my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. Those ice-blue irises burn with ferality. “Don’t you dare look away.”
He rocks his hips, sliding that thick length through my wetness, the head catching on my clit with each pass. The piercing adds this perfect edge of sensation that has me gasping.
“Please.” The word slips out before I can stop it. This was supposed to be seduction for escape, but my body doesn’t care about plans anymore.
“Please, what?” He grinds harder. “Use your words.”
“Please fuck me.” My hands grip his shoulders, nails digging in through his shirt. “I need—”
His hand moves from my jaw to the column of my neck, not squeezing hard, just enough pressure to make my pulse jump against his palm.
“No.” The word hits like cold water even as he keeps that maddening rhythm. “You think you can manipulate me with this sweet pussy? Think I’ll give you what you want just because you’re dripping for me?”
Another slide, another burst of pleasure that has me arching beneath him. I hold his gaze like he demanded, watching a dark possessiveness flicker in those eyes.
“You’re not getting my cock inside you.” His thumb presses against the hollow of my throat. “Not until you’re so desperate you can’t think straight. Not until you’re sobbing for it, begging so pretty that you forget your own name.”
The combination of his words, his hand on my throat, and that relentless friction against my clit has me spiraling fast.
“That’s it.” His voice drops to a growl. “Show me how much you need it. Show me what a needy little thing you are.”
The friction of his cock sliding over my clit feels so fucking good, but it’s not enough. I need more. Need him inside me more than anything I’ve ever experienced and that defies logic.
“Please,” I gasp, my hands moving to his face, fingers brushing the edge of his mask. “Let me see you.”
He catches my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. “No.”
“I don’t even know what you look like.” The words come out breathy, desperate. “How can I want someone this badly when I’ve never seen their face?”
“You can feel my cock.” He grinds harder, making me whimper. “That’s all you get.”
My hips buck up, seeking more friction. “What about when we fuck? When you finally put that thick cock inside me?” I meet his eyes, letting him see how much I mean the next words. “I want to kiss you.”
His whole body goes rigid. The hand holding my wrists tightens.
“I don’t kiss.” The words come out almost pained.
But at the same time, I feel his cock twitch against me, a hot spurt of precum painting my clit. He groans, the sound raw behind the mask.
I look down between us, watching his thick length rubbing my swollen flesh. The sight makes me moan, long and desperate. The metal piercing glints with our combined wetness, dragging perfectly with each slide.
“Fuck, look at you.” His free hand grips my hip, angling me for better friction. “Such a greedy little thing. You have no idea what I want to do to you.”
“Tell me.” I’m beyond games now, beyond seduction tactics. I’ve never wanted anyone like this—never felt this consuming need that borders on madness.
“Want to breed this sweet pussy.” The words pour out of him like a confession. “Want to fuck you raw, pump you so full of cum it drips down your thighs. Want to keep you stuffed with my cock until your belly grows round with my seed.”
The words should terrify me. Instead, my pussy clenches on nothing, a fresh wave of wetness coating his length.
“Jesus,” he hisses, feeling my response. “You like that? Like the thought of me breeding you like an animal?”
It’s insane. Fucking insane. But my body doesn’t care about sanity anymore.
“Yes,” I gasp. “God help me, yes.”
His grip on my wrists turns bruising. “Fuck.” The curse comes out broken, desperate. “Gonna paint this pretty cunt with my cum. Cover your clit until you’re dripping with it.”
His hips lose their controlled rhythm, thrusts becoming wild and erratic as he slides his cock through my folds. The piercing catches on my clit with each pass, sending lightning through my nerves.
“Come with me.” It’s not a request—it’s a command that vibrates through his chest. “I want to feel you fall apart while I mark you.”
The combination of his words, the relentless friction, and the need in his voice pushes me over the edge. My orgasm bursts through me like a tidal wave, back arching off the cot as I cry out.
“That’s it, fuck—” His whole body goes rigid above me. Hot spurts of cum paint my pussy, coating my clit and dripping down to pool beneath me. He groans through his release, hips jerking with each pulse.
For a moment, we’re frozen there with him braced above me, both of us panting, his cum cooling on my skin. I can feel his heart hammering through his tactical vest.
Then, like always, he pulls back. That wall slams down between us so fast it gives me whiplash. He tucks himself away, not meeting my eyes.
“Sleep.” He stands, already moving toward the door. “It’s only four a.m.”
The casual mention of time is the first real marker I’ve had since he took me. Four in the morning. Another piece of the outside world bleeding through.
I watch him walk away, his broad shoulders tense beneath the tactical gear. The door closes with its familiar electronic lock, leaving me alone with his cum drying on my skin and the echo of his broken groans in my ears.