Chapter 15
My body aches and my eyes are heavy as the dawn awakens me and brings with it the realization I’m not alone. Strong arms are holding me tight and my heart beats a frantic dance inside me as the events of last night come back to haunt me with a vengeance.
Oh God! I let Valentin fuck me last night, and I wanted it more than I wanted to breathe. I am such a desperate slut. What the hell is wrong with me? I was delirious. Perhaps the ghost possessed my body, and I was someone else entirely. That is exactly what must have happened because Polly Scott-Stanley is only intimate with her trusty vibrator, not huge tattooed Russians who kill people for fun.
I can’t breathe. I am so ashamed of myself and now I must endure his arrogant smirk for the rest of the day.
I am beyond mortified and the fact his cock is already hard and pressing against my back doesn’t make for an easy getaway either.
“Morning, malyshka.”
I screw my eyes tightly shut and whisper, “I’m guessing that name means brazen slut in Russian because what the hell was I thinking last night?”
His soft chuckle annoys me and I hiss, “It’s okay for you to see the funny side, but I can assure you I’m not laughing. What will the others think?”
“The others?”
He sounds amused and I gasp, “Your men. They will think I’m, well, easy.”
“You are.”
I gasp and he laughs softly. “You’re easy on the eye, and that is all they need to know. Anyway, if I remember rightly, you loved every minute of it and, in fact, begged me to fuck you, did you not?”
“I fucking hate you, you arsehole.”
I am so mortified, ashamed, and embarrassed, and I try desperately to escape his clutches to no avail because he is way stronger than me and merely takes it as a game of wielding his strength over me.
“Relax, it’s no big deal. Only we know what happened and I’m not about to shout it from the rooftops.”
“Why not?” I am seriously offended now. “Are you ashamed that we, um, well, did it?”
He laughs out loud. “How old are you? We fucked, Polly. It happens. Get over yourself.”
Once again I attempt to leave and find myself lying on my back with him grinning above me and he reaches out and cups my face and whispers, “For the record, I loved every minute of it and if you’re willing–”
“NO!” I struggle and shake my head vigorously. “This must never happen again. I mean it, never.”
I take a deep breath and say slowly, “Okay, here is what will happen. I will slip away to my own room and try to forget this ever happened. You will do what the hell you like, but do it fast so you have your information by the end of the day. I will leave for Sussex and you will leave for the end of the world, or become the first man to live in outer space, never to be seen again anywhere near Lower Slaughter, London and Sussex. In fact, stay away from the United Kingdom as a whole and I would prefer it if you gave Florida a wide berth too, because I occasionally like to visit Disneyland and the surrounding areas.”
His eyes glitter and rather than say anything, his mouth descends on mine in a surprise attack that flusters me all over again. Oh my God, he kisses like a pro and despite my harsh words, I kiss him back with an enthusiasm that makes a mockery of my last words. I’m a fucking joke and as his hand wanders, I try so hard to resist, but my traitorous body opens up once again like a flower and before I know it, he is seated deep inside me, causing me to groan out loud.
“Do you like that, malyshka?”
“I hate you, but your cock can stay.”
His soft chuckle brings a brief smile to my face as he moves slowly inside me, increasing the rhythm before slowing down again. It is driving me insane and my legs wrap around his waist in a desperate urge to pull him in deeper and as his balls slap against my ass, my fingernails rake the skin on his back. We are closer than two people can ever be and I am telling myself it’s one for the road. The last and final time I will allow him to use my body in this way. Yes, the last fuck, perhaps I should write a song and title it that.
My body dances along with his tune and betrays me in the cruelest way possible as it clenches around his cock and I scream like a maniac as I convulse under him, momentarily losing consciousness as a gigantic orgasm hits me hard.
Then he unleashes his beast with a roar and fills my desperate pussy with his sticky cum and once again the shame rises up to greet me as I come to terms with the fact I just can’t say no to him.
I am not doinga good job of acting normally and I don’t miss the smirks of his men as I attempt to rustle up some form of breakfast. If Valentin has sent for his chef, I hope he arrives soon because facing these men after what we did last night is every bit as mortifying as if my parents were sitting here instead.
Thank God they’re not. Not in a bad way, of course, just to spare me the disappointment in their eyes when they come to terms with the knowledge their daughter is a common slut. No morality, no principles and apparently no fucks to give that she let a man she just met do unspeakable things to her, and she liked it. I loved it when he tied me up and bound my mouth. It freed me from responsibility and I could pretend I was an unwilling participant. I wasn’t. Not by a long way and now I must face the fact that I am the trashiest of women.
I can’t even look at him and he obviously couldn’t care less because he chats to his men, occasionally cracking a joke that rises distinctly above my head.
Finally, they all disperse to their task, leaving me alone with my nightmare that goes by the name of Valentin Romanov.
“Look at me, Polly.”
His dark commanding tone stirs the air around my heart, and it pounds mercilessly inside me.
I take a deep breath and turn, trying so hard to maintain a blank expression, but fail miserably when he stares at me with surprising tenderness.
“You did nothing wrong.” He says simply and I can’t meet his eyes as I say wearily, “It doesn’t feel like that. I let myself down.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not, well, I don’t usually–oh nothing.”
I sigh with exasperation and turn back to the sink where I am attempting to wash the dishes and I almost jump out of my skin when he moves behind me and circles my waist with his hands, spinning me around and staring into my eyes with a surprisingly gentle expression.
“If it’s any consolation, I loved every minute. Thank you for lowering your principles for one night of passion with me.”
I search for any hint he is teasing me, but all I detect is sincerity for once.
He drops a light kiss on my lips and whispers against them. “For your information, I do that a lot, so if anyone should be ashamed of themselves, it’s me.”
He raises his eyes, and it makes me giggle and he smiles sweetly. “That’s better. I don’t want you to be sad when I had a night I won’t forget in a hurry.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?” I scoff, and I’m taken aback at the serious gleam in his eye as he nods.
“I do. You see, Polly, it may surprise you that I don’t usually sleep with women.”
I raise my eyes and he grins. “I fuck them, of course I do, but I never wrap my arms around them afterward and fall asleep with them in my bed. So, my little English Rose, last night was as surprising to me as it was devastating for you.”
“I’m sorry.” I attempt to smile. “I didn’t mean it was devastating, it’s, well, I was brought up to believe that women should have certain standards of decorum and jumping into bed with a man she just met, who is kind of keeping her prisoner, isn’t really something that would make my parents proud.”
“Tell me about them.”
It doesn’t escape my attention that his arms are still holding me close and the scent of his aftershave is seriously divine. I lean closer and take a surreptitious sniff, loving the scent of spice that suits him down to the ground.
“They are both dead, sadly.” I shrug but bite my lip to stop it from revealing how much it still hurts.
“I’m sorry, little one. I sympathize and know it is hard to deal with.”
I smile briefly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“We share a common memory.” He adds, and I nod sadly.
“They died in a car accident and I suppose at least they were together in death.”
His arms feel so good it makes me relax a little and I sigh. “It was a few years ago now, and it was a scary time. Luckily, they left me well cared for and it gave me time to grieve without worrying about money.”
I glance around me and smile softly. “And now I must be grateful to another family member for caring for me in her death even though she wasn’t interested when she was alive.”
“Can you remember anything about her at all?”
His deep tone sounds like genuine concern, but I’m guessing he has an ulterior motive and it sparks a memory that occurred to me yesterday.
“Valentin, I thought of something that may help your mystery.”
He tenses and I note the interest spark in his eyes. I stare up at him and fight the urge to press my lips against his as I whisper, “You mentioned a woman called Marsha Steele. I know of her.”
His hold tightens and his voice drops even deeper as he says urgently, “What do you know?”
“When my aunt died, I received a sympathy card from her. The name was unfamiliar, and she introduced herself as my aunt’s close friend. She said she would be in London next week and would love to meet me. She had many fond memories of her time with my aunt and wanted to talk about them.”
I shake my head. “I decided not to meet her because my aunt wasn’t interested in me, so why would I be interested in her? But now, given her involvement with your family, I think I should.”
“Where?”
“London. She told me she had a house there and I could meet her for afternoon tea. Apparently, it’s not far from my aunt’s home in Kensington. I suppose I could check that out at the same time and make plans to sell it because I really want the money so I can move in here permanently.”
I’m rambling and the confusion on his face tells me that and I say with a slight giggle. “I’m sorry. It was just a thought. What do you think I should do?”
As my question waits for an answer, I see something shift in his eyes. His earlier softness has been replaced by harsh reality and all his problems have come back to bite him, and I feel responsible for that.
He nods, a stony expression on his face and says, “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all week, but there’s one problem that you may not be happy with.”
“What?”
I’m confused, and he smiles into my eyes and whispers, “It means that you don’t get rid of me for a little while longer.”
His words cause me to smile because for some reason the idea of him leaving is not sitting well with me and I’m guessing last night had a lot to do with that.