Chapter 60
Aurelia
If my counting is right, I think it’s been another week in captivity, making it almost three weeks in total, but it’s hard to keep track, especially since my days switched from being strung up in a cold cage to getting fucked in a king-sized bed on silk black sheets.
Not that I’m complaining, my new arrangement is definitely more enjoyable, especially since Nikolai has been trying to fuck me into submission.
It’s not just physical.
I swear my monster is dead set on making me fall for him. He does everything he can to get me there, to make me soften to him, and I think I’m going insane because of it.
He makes me feel… wanted. Desirable in a way I forgot about. Especially considering I haven’t been the easiest to deal with.
I even find it cute when he snaps his little band and tries to control his temper with me. He’s trying, and I don’t think I can say that about anyone else.
Sometimes I think I should be nicer to him, but I know he prefers it when I’m trying to kill him.
Yeah, he’s probably some type of undiagnosed crazy person, but I can’t help it. I trust him to keep me safe and to want me the way I’ve always needed.
However, it seems to be some reflex to never let him have complete control. He tried to be domineering and use praise, but then I replied with sarcastic comments, which seemed to shift the control aspect.
I’ve tried apologizing.
I love having sex with him—truly, he’s fantastic. Our chemistry is electric, and I’ve given in at times, but I’ve never been completely powerless, never entirely at his mercy.
Last night, we played with a knife, taunting, thrusting into one another relentlessly. It was intoxicating, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d never really given him a turn to control me.
I knew he wouldn’t stab me. I, on the other hand, have stabbed him once and attempted a second, so I’m not sure it had the desired effect.
Now, the sun hasn’t even risen and I’m back on top of him. I didn’t even realize until I heard his moans.
“Fuck,” I whimper, throwing back my head in pleasure.
Bringing his body up and into mine, Nikolai slams into me, holding my gaze.
“Sorry,” I giggle, “you can take control, I forgot.”
“Don’t ever fucking apologize for this.” He groans, grasping a fist full of my hair, yanking back. “Do you want me to try it again?”
“Yes,” I cry out. “Yes, I want to try it again.”
Because I do, I want to submit to him—at least once to see how it feels.
He flips me on my back, his large body consuming mine.
“I want to try something new,” he whispers between thrusts. “If you feel like you’re losing too much control, that means it’s working. But you can always tap out if you need to.”
A smile crosses my face. I doubt that I’ll give him the opportunity, like all the times before, my body will turn it against him and take back the control he wants, but I’ll let him try anything.
Then, in a quick movement, his hand wraps around my neck, his lips on mine, and he’s pounding into me hard, his grip tightening with each thrust.
It’s nothing but euphoria.
Then he pulls back, his grip still strong, and watches as my face adjusts to the lack of oxygen.
My hand goes to his, feeling the thick, visible veins as I claw at his skin.
My lungs contract, and I begin to feel lightheaded. I can still take in air, but everything has faded, and silence creeps up my body.
Yet, somehow, I feel strangely calm.
I know Nikolai won’t kill me, but in this position, I know he could. His other hand moves to my clit, circling me in perfect movements.
“Are you in control, malyshka?” His voice is rough, and I think the sight of me without proper blood flow is only making him harder.
“No,” I try to say, but I think I just mouth the words.
“Does it feel good? Nod your head, yes or no.”
I nod, yes.
“Do you still know the power you have over me?”
I nod, yes.
“Are you going to come for me, so that I can let you get some oxygen?”
I nod, yes.
He picks up speed, thrusting into me harder and faster. I don’t think I’ve seen him this hungry for me before, and it only enhances my pleasure. I know he wants me anyway he can get me, and since he lets me have control, I’m letting him.
My body tenses, jolting at the touch of his finger on my clit and cock buried deep inside me. My pleasure is overwhelming; I don’t even think I can take any more when I realize my body is shaking.
He watches my body for the all-clear, then spills into me, releasing his grip from my neck. He breathlessly moans, “Chto ty so mnoy sdelal?”
I love it when he speaks in Russian; it’s like he’s speaking with more vulnerability.
He rolls to the side, still keeping his body close to mine. His hand, much gentler now, glides down my face and my neck, which is sure marked by his hands.
He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to where he held so tightly.
“Well?” he questions. “Did it work this time?”
I smile, pressing my lips to his in an instinctive movement. “Yes.”
“Finally,” he groans with a mixed hoarse laugh. “You are very challenging to take control over.”
I laugh, but I think he can see something else in my eyes because he quickly wraps my body in his. “I would never take it from you if you didn’t want to give it to me, malyshka. I wanted to show you what it could be like, not show you how it has to be.”
Why is my kidnapper being so sweet?
I like having control… but I also just had the best orgasm of my life.
“How about we take turns?” I suggest.
“Whatever my princess wants.”
A smile consumes my face.
I am so completely fucked.
We fall back asleep, our bodies tangled together.
* * *
I’m not sure how long I slept, but he’s already up and changed, planting a kiss to my forehead.
“Tomorrow,” he says. “Tomorrow you will see your family at my father’s ball.”
He acts as if he is telling me bad news, so I stare into his dark eyes with confusion.
“I will have Maksim deliver clothes and anything else you might need.”
Before I even have the chance to process his words, let alone form a thought, he’s leaving, my body tensing as I hear the lock click behind him.
Wait, I’ll see my family?
This is good, right? Nikolai’s tone makes me unsure if I’m walking into my release or my death sentence.
Should I be using this last night as a chance to escape? Is now my only chance?
The thought dies as another pushes its way in.
Where’s he going? I don’t want him to go.