21. Kristof

Part of me feared Alena was a dream, that I'd walk back through that door and the cage would be empty. That fear lingers right up until the moment Alena rolls over and looks up at me.

There's something so innocent about her wide eyes as she crawls out of her cage without a single complaint. There's a slight unsteadiness to her movements, reminding me of a deer. I can't tear my gaze away, locked onto her as she finally settles at my feet as I requested. She blinks up at me with wide, dark eyes and stifles a yawn.

The frustration from the meeting with her father bubbles under the surface, amplified by the hours spent interrogating the guards who were first on the list for a home search. My light attempt to shift blame to the Kuznetsovs hadn't gone as well as I'd hoped, with Mara pushing against me at every suggestion. In her eyes, they have nothing to gain from kidnapping. I want to find out why she's so sure about that.

But right now, I need Alena.

"What's wrong?" Alena asks, and her slim brows pull together, scrunching up her nose slightly as she pouts.

The lack of Sir irks me more than I care to admit. My hands drop to my belt. As I unbuckle it, her gaze drops and she watches me closely. Her stance shifts, and she straightens up slightly onto her knees. Her pale skin is lit up in a cross-cross of red from her earlier whipping, but some of the vibrance has faded. The ointment I slathered her in after her shower clearly helped.

"Open your mouth." The leather pulls free from my jeans and slips to the floor.

Alena obeys. She looks up at me through her lashes as I unbutton my jeans.

"You haven't sucked cock before, have you? Not properly."

Alena shakes her head, sending her hair cascading in waves down her back.

"I'll teach you."

"Okay," she says, again missing the Sir and technically breaking my rule. I'm too wound up to care, though. All I want to do is sink into the velvet-soft heat of her mouth where I belong.

"It's simple. Your tongue does most of the work. Keep your jaw as relaxed as you can so you don't cramp, and no teeth, understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl."

Her eyes flutter slightly, and her tongue curls in her mouth at the praise. She drinks it up like she's utterly parched, and her reaction always leaves me curious how far I can push that praise desire of hers.

I slide one hand into her hair, crushing her hair like silk in my fist, and drag her closer. Her pink tongue darts out and quickly swipes at her lips. When I free my cock, she takes a deep breath and her hands curl into fists on her bare thighs.

I can barely contain myself. Heat bubbles underneath my skin. Stroking myself once, I tighten my grip in her hair and slide my cock past those pretty, lush lips. The heat of her mouth wraps around me in an instant. The uncertainty of her tongue when it presses up against my shaft is clear, but I've given her all the instruction she needs to know. The rest, she'll learn, I'm sure.

As I start thrusting slowly into her mouth, restraining myself because my desire to feel her runs hotter than my desire to just fuck, pressure lands on my thigh from her hand, and I tsk my tongue behind my teeth.

"Hands stay on your thighs, Alena," I order, pressing forward enough that the tip of my cock brushes against the silky soft back of her throat.

The pressure drops away immediately, and I bite back a smile.

Good girl.

We fall quickly into a good rhythm, with each thrust slowly breaking down the restraint holding me back. Alena's tongue presses up and around, sweeping across my cock when she gets the chance. Each withdrawal from her pretty lips has her suckling on the head, and the way she looks up at me through her lashes has all the muscles in my gut pulling south to my balls. How can someone so innocent be so fucking sinful?

With my next thrust, I press a little deeper into her throat and then I'm gone. What restraint I had melts away, and both my hands end up in her hair. I thrust forward and bury my cock as deep as I can in her narrow throat, groaning out loud as she tightens around me while her soft, wet, choking sounds reach my ears.

I'm a man possessed, fucking her throat with wild abandon. The world melts away, tension eases in my shoulders, and the fevered warmth in my gut floods through my body like an explosion. Touching Alena is electric, and fucking her throat sends a charge through me from head to toe. Warmth sweeps through my gut and settles tight in my balls. All the while, Alena does her very best to follow my instructions. I catch the flick of her tongue, the pull of suction as she tries to suck around my barrage of thrusts.

The closer I get, the longer I bury myself inside her throat. Despite the growing lack of air, Alena's struggles are minimal. She really is trying to obey me. My heart soars, my gut clenches, and my balls tighten further.

On my last thrust, I bury myself fully down her throat and come with a cry. A sound akin to a moan rises to meet me from Alena, and my cock twitches as pulse after pulse of cum floods down her throat. She swallows, each ripple of tight muscle around my length milking me for every drop. In the back of my mind, I count. I have a rough idea of how long she can last without air, and my soul drifts. Every ounce of frustration pours out of me, and then, with a last throaty moan, I pull my cock free from Alena in a wet rush.

She erupts into a gasping, coughing fit and lifts one hand to her throat. When she looks up at me, tears cling to her lashes with a few rolling lazily down her cheeks.

"Good girl," I say, and color blooms across her cheeks. "On the bed."

I snap my fingers, and it takes her a few moments to get to her feet, but she follows my instructions. Her lips, flushed red from the impact of my hips, remain parted as she pants for air, and her relief is evident to be on the bed.

"Did you have a bad day?" she asks, wiping the corner of her mouth.

I don't answer her, instead working to cuff her ankles back to the bed. When I lift my head, ready to ask her to lie down, she's already doing it, and our eyes lock over the rise of her chest.

"Acting preemptively for praise?" I ask, moving to secure her wrists.

"Maybe." Alena smirks up at me. "Or maybe I'm just happy you're here."

Interesting. "I don't want to talk about my day. I want to play with you."

Her eyes widen as I secure her last wrist, then I cup her face and gently swipe away her stray tears. She looks a little surprised, but the last thing I will do is tell her about her father. I plan to separate her from that as much as possible, and the last thing I need is for her to start feeling homesick.

Even if she claims to never want to go back there.

"You forgot to call me Sir," I point out. Realization washes over her face, and she bites her lower lip. She calls to me as I turn away from her and walk back to the door where I left my bag.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Taking three items from the bag, I turn and walk slowly back to her.

"You will be."

Her chest hitches, and her eyes widen when she notices the candle I carry in one hand and the knife in the other. I expect to see fear in those honey-brown eyes, but instead, I'm met with curiosity. She licks her lips quickly, and her eyes dart back and forth between me and the items.

"Yes, Sir," she breathes.

Within five minutes, the candle is lit and the wax is melting in soft, slow rolls down the stick. Settled between Alena's legs, I maintain eye contact as the next fat drop of red wax finally drips from the stick and lands on the wax pattern across her abdomen. Alena arches from the bed and hisses out between clenched teeth, then she gasps softly and sinks back down onto the bed.

"Fuck," she whimpers as her head tosses back and forth.

I can't take my eyes off her. She's a work of art, with her skin painted in whip marks, her shoulder bearing my bite mark, and now, she takes the hot wax in her stride. I'd started with my initials, dripping the wax like a brand over her abdomen, but now I'm aiming higher, toward her breasts. Just as the next drop of wax drips down and hits her skin, causing a rolling flinch, I finally pick up the knife.

"Are you scared?" I ask, turning the knife so it glints in the light.

While her eyes widen, Alena shakes her head with confidence.

"No, Sir," she whimpers.

I tilt the knife and press the tip of the blade feather-light to the inside of her left thigh. Her leg flinches away immediately, and her breath hitches.

"How about now?"

"No." She trembles and her voice quavers, but her eyes never leave mine.

As the wax drips, her next flinch is more subtle. Clearly, all her attention is on the blade as I trace the wider edge up her thigh toward her glistening pussy. It's unclear whether she's turned on from the blowjob, the wax, or simply being touched, but it matters little to me. I only care that her body is interested and her mind will follow.

"How about now?" I stop the blade half an inch from her pussy. Her hips rise up, her abdomen flexing before my eyes.

"No," she whispers. I detect a hint of fear there, an uncertainty she's trying to hide.

"Are you lying to me?"

"Maybe."

I lift myself over her, flip the knife around in my hand, and slowly thrust the thick, black hilt inside her in one slow move. Alena's eyes blow wide at the intrusion, and her body bows. Her hands curl into fists, and a yelp of surprise escapes her. Just as the flare of the knife bottoms out against her, more wax rolls from the candle and splatters down onto her breasts, cutting off her yelp with a soft whimper.

"Kristof," Alena whimpers, and her eyes search out mine as I settle above her.

"Alena."

"I…"

Is she going to beg me to stop? Tell me it's too much? Plead with me to leave her alone? I can't settle on what I want to hear, what would excite me the most, but to my surprise, none of that comes from her.

"Fuck me," she whispers.

I twist the knife hilt inside her, and a true moan escapes Alena, surprising even her if the sudden blush down her throat is anything to go by.

"Easily," I murmur, and I do just that. Slow, careful thrusts of the knife hilt start the rhythm with which I fuck her, and Alena drinks it up. Every thrust causes her body to jolt, and a light sweat breaks out across her skin. Wax continues to drip from the candle in my hand, painting across her breasts like liquid silk as I fuck her with the knife handle.

She pulls on the restraints, rocking back and forth and trying to twist in any direction as if trying to escape. The constant moans falling from her lips suggest otherwise, though.

"Look at you, you filthy whore. Waxed and fucked with a knife, and you're moaning like it's the best sex you've ever had."

Alena merely whines in response, too caught up in her mix of pleasure and pain.

"Maybe I should start calling you pet, huh? You lap this up like a little slut after sleeping in your cage like such a good girl."

"Oh, fuck!" Alena cries, and suddenly, her body arches hard off the bed. One last roll of wax drops down and hits her nipple, and she comes with a scream.

From this angle, I get to see every detail of her pleasure, her eyes rolling back, her head tossing from side to side, and her lips parting wide. Her body bows and rocks, muscles going so rigid I can make out the definition of her arms. Her thighs quiver against my arm, and when she finally collapses back down onto the bed with a series of panting moans, she shakes like a leaf with tears clinging to her lashes once more.

"Yes, Sir," Alena croaks, and when our eyes meet, she smiles up at me. "Thank you."

My heart swells unexpectedly. I set the candle aside and lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then I slowly remove the knife hilt from her pussy. I replace it with my tongue, burying it against her pussy and gently licking through her folds to taste her post-orgasm. The heat is searing, and she whimpers above me, utterly overstimulated and satisfied. It's just a taste, but it leaves me yearning for more, but tiredness from the day is beginning to weigh on me.

It takes twenty minutes to clean Alena up. Removing the wax is easy with a homemade solution, and in the shower, I kiss each of the small marks left behind by the wax. Alena is perfectly docile, resting against me with a blissful smile on her face while I wash her body, massage her scalp, and tuck her into bed with only two ankles and one wrist tied up.

"Kristof…" Alena catches my wrist with her free hand just as I step away, causing me to pause.

"Yes?"

"Was I good? For you?"

I frown immediately. Was my praise not enough to assure her of that? Did I leave her with doubts?

I turn back to her and take her hand, squeezing gently.

"You were exceptional. I have things on my mind, and you helped me feel better. Your obedience was admirable."

Alena beams up at me.

"Just work on the respect," I add.

"Yes, Sir." Alena nods. I step away and turn down the light, closing the door behind me. It doesn't escape me that this could be a trick of hers, a ploy to soften me up so she can escape, but even if that's her goal, it won't matter in the end.

There's nothing she can do, nothing she can say that will let her slip past me.

With the search of properties looming, one thing is clear to me.

I'm not just getting Alena out of this house.

I'm getting her out of the country.