I lie there thinking about that for a minute and it makes me relax a little. I wanted him really badly last night. Call it the drink, or maybe it was the high I felt at having nailed that performance as Ana Veche, but my body was on fire and he was the only thing that could extinguish me. If we didn't have sex, then it's becausehe has self-control. I sure the hell didn't. I don't understand what stopped him.
"But you undressed me," I say softly, curiosity mingled with near accusation.
"Because you couldn't do it yourself. You could barely stand. You didn't want to sleep in that four-hundred-dollar gown, did you?" His lips brush against my shoulder, feather-light, and I shiver despite myself. "I was a perfect gentleman. But now that you're sober…"
He trails off, letting the intention of his word hang in the air between us. His hand lightly caresses between my tits, careful not to touch my nipples, but I can tell he wants to.
"Now that I'm sober, what?"
"Now I'll be whatever you want me to be."
His hand slides lower now, grazing the underside of my right breast, and I know I should pull away. This man kidnapped me, and he's holding me prisoner. Whatever attraction I feel toward him is twisted and wrong and probably some kind of Stockholm syndrome. Hell, he probably drugged me. There's no way that drink was strong enough to knock me out.
But I think about last night, about how easy it would've been for him to take what I was offering. I was drunk and willing and practically throwing myself at him, and he put me to bed instead. He could've done anything he wanted to me and I wouldn't have been able to stop him.
His hips pump against my body, reminding me of that part of him that's eager to have what I was so willing to throw at him last night, but I clamp my eyes shut and grit my teeth. Do I reallywant to spread myself and let my captor ravish me? Am I really so weak that a smidge of humanity in a man who stole me from my life is enough to buckle my knees and make me open for him?
"That is if you're still interested." Lev's hand skips the niceties now, fully gripping me in his hand, twisting a nipple and kneading my flesh. It makes me shudder and let out a low hiss as my body responds to the stimulation.
"I…" I whimper, unable to stop him. Even if I wanted to, I can't. He's way stronger than me and I'm already basically naked.
"If you don't like this, just tell me to stop. It doesn’t mean I will, but you can say it," he says, and I can tell he's smiling as he says it.
I lay there rigidly as his lips press kiss after kiss down my back and across my thigh. As he rises, the blanket goes with him and the air chills me. When he grabs my knee and spreads me wide open, I have no choice but to roll to my back and let him look down at me, trembling. And all I can do is stare.
He's chiseled, corded muscles down his stomach, full, hard pecs that beg to be touched and caressed, all smothered in dark ink that paints him as the monster he is. The monster I'm craving to devour me.
"Look at this mess," he purrs, rubbing a thumb over the outside of my panties where I feel moisture building. "All for me?"
He looks up at my face, but my eyes track to his boxers where his dick is no longer tucked away. It protrudes from the slot in front and he's massive. It makes me clench involuntarily and whimper.
"What's wrong, pretty girl? You've never seen a cock this big? Don't worry…" His thumb keeps rubbing me, but now he's stroking himself too. "I'll be gentle."
"Oh, fuck." I'm dead. I'm literally dead and this is a dream before the gates of Hell open and crown me the worst sinner on Earth, right?
He fucking kidnapped me. Him, not someone else, and now my body is dripping to have him and he's right there begging to come in.
"Lev, I…" I start to protest, but his thumb slips under the soggy fabric of my panties and strums me like a guitar. Skin to skin, it's so intense, I can't do anything but arch into him. And when he shoves that thumb up inside me, I whimper and buck against his hand.
"That's it, good girl."
God, the way he's talking to me. I can't. I shouldn't.
"Lev, please… " I don't know if I'm asking for more or for him to stop, so when he asks me, I can't answer.
"Please what, baby? What do you want me to do for you?" Lev's finger continues to work, sliding into my depth then back out across my clit and around again. It's intoxicating, pushing me to deep arousal, and I don't want him to stop. I just don't like what this says about me.
"I…" I clench and protest. My arms cover my tits in a prayer pose and he clicks his tongue.
"Such a beautiful body to cover up, Vivika. Let me see you." His eyes are almost black with lust as he reaches up with his free hand and pulls one arm down, then the other. "Perfect tits."
I am a puddling, whimpering, sloppy mess. Why does he do this to me? Why is my body doing this to me?
With one strong tug he tears the crotch right out of these panties and without trying, he shreds his boxers too, so we're both bare. It startles me so much, I jump and my arms cover my chest again. But this time, he cranes his body over me, stretching up to take both my wrists and pin them over my head in one hand.
"I'm gonna take you nice and slow. Tear that little pussy to shreds so you remember who owns you now. And every time you piss, you're gonna remember my name. It'll last for days." Lev's lips brush mine, but I feel his hand working between us, sliding his dick through my mess.
"Shit," I hiss, and I hate how badly I want him in me.
