22. Alena

Two weeks pass in a blur when you're underground.

At a glance, not much is different from when I arrived here, and yet, at the same time, everything is different. Kristof no longer ties me completely to the bed. Instead, a single leather cuff rests around my right ankle attached to a chain that has enough length that I'm able to move around the room with much more freedom. I can reach the shower whenever I want to, curl up and sleep freely on the bed, and even jog around the open space for light exercise. Life is simple here.

And I love it.

I'm only required in the cage when he's had a bad day and wants to watch me get off by humping a pillow like a dog.

It used to be humiliating, but now I kind of like it.

The part of me that tells me I shouldn't grows smaller by the day. Sure, the lack of windows and view of the outside world is a little jarring, but everything else is cozy enough that life is good, in a way. Kristof softened up within a few days and supplied me with more books to read than I've had time for, and that's just a small part of how he goes above and beyond.

For a man who puts himself out there as the scariest, most intimidating man anyone could come across, he has a soft heart hidden underneath.

One mention of wanting to read and he brought me armfuls of books. A wistful comment about missing fried chicken and he brought me fast food four days straight, and we binged a whole collection of junk I've never been allowed to try before so Kristof could find out what my favorites were. He isn't much of a cook, and while eating out all the time isn't great, the amount of sex has me working up an appetite constantly. He even brought me all my favorite soaps and conditioners, enough to fully pamper myself in the shower.

He treats me like a princess.

And I love it more than I can put into words. I've been doted on before by my father, but all that luxury felt empty. It was just things to appease me and weak apologies to try and make up for his absence. With Kristof, everything is tailored to me, and more than once, I've caught him watching me, as if my reaction will tell him how good of a job he's doing. It's enough to warm anyone's heart.

Even the sex is constantly incredible. I always thought that it would change at some point, become mundane, but so far, everything we've done together has been incredible. He pulls hidden parts of me to the light and strokes some deep, dark fantasy inside me so that I find it almost too easy to obey his rules.

How can I resist when my reward is Kristof going down on me?

The things that man can do with his tongue should be illegal. It's so good I think about it constantly—not that there's much else here for me to think about—and when he's not here, when it's not time for a reward, I miss him.

The orgasms he pulls from me are mind-blowing, but coming on his tongue is extra special.

My thoughts tumble to an end as my core clenches at that thought and I realize I haven't read the page in front of me. I shift on the bed and try to focus on the book rather than Kristof, but it's difficult. In fact, it's almost impossible with the decorations he's left inside me.

After fucking me in both holes this morning, he plugged my ass with a sleek princess plug which keeps all the cum he filled me with safe inside. My pussy is filled with a thick, pink vibrator that he has the controls for, and the vibrations have been low enough that I notice them but not enough to stimulate me to completion. Especially since I'm completely banned from touching my clit. Two silver clamps decorate my nipples with a delicate silver chain linking them together that loops up and connects to the pendant around my neck. The pendant he gifted me.

Fitting, really.

The more my mind wanders, distracted from the story in front of me, the more the subtle vibrations of the toy inside me come to the forefront of my mind. I've been turned on for hours, and showering had been a challenge since every touch to my body had only heightened my arousal.

Now, my plan of distracting myself with a book is failing because I can't stop thinking about Kristof.

Rolling my eyes, I flatten the book against my raised thighs and try to force myself to read the words. I get halfway through before I get distracted once again, but this time, the book is the cause. A sentence about the main character missing her homeland catches in my mind.

I don't miss home. Not really.

Or do I?

Thinking of Mara and my father ignites a complicated nest of emotions in my chest that I have no idea how to unravel. For a long time, I thought it was a yearning desire to return home to normality, but these past few days, I've realized that it's anger. Anger that in such a short time, Kristof has treated me with more love and care than my family ever did in my entire nineteen years. All they cared about was that stupid marriage.

A marriage that definitely didn't happen. The date has passed, and Kristof hasn't mentioned it. I can only imagine how well all of that went down. Picturing Mikhail standing at the altar waiting for a bride who will never come gives me a twisted sort of pleasure.

Kristof's kidnapping me might be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Maybe one day, we can go back together and I can show them what kind of woman I've grown to be around someone who loves me.

Suddenly, the vibrations inside me ramp up in strength, and I yelp. The book slips from my fingers, and I double over as the toy continues to increase in vibration.

Fuck.

Kristof must nearly be home.

Pleasure explodes through me as the entire stimulation for the day suddenly swells to the surface. I shove one hand between my legs, whimpering as the slightest contact with my clit brings me right to the edge of orgasm, and I have to pull myself back with force. I can't come. Not without permission.

Each breath that escapes me is tinged with a moan, and I roll over, shoving my face into the pillow. My hips move with a mind of their own, rocking back against the air as if trying to fuck myself on the toy buried so deep inside me.

He's almost home.

Excitement rises inside me, and my heart skips a beat as I roll onto my back, fighting to ignore the vibrations teasing every oversensitive nerve leading to my core.

Suddenly, the door clunks as the locks slide back, and Kristof steps inside, looking utterly mouthwatering, dressed in black slacks, a crisp white shirt, and leather suspenders. My core throbs at the sight of him. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his tattoos, and as he walks forward, he starts to unbutton his shirt.

"Alena."

I leap into motion immediately. I face away and settle on all fours, then drop my chest to the bed and whimper as my clamped nipples drag against the sheet. The position presents my stuffed ass and pussy to him, and I wiggle my hips enticingly.

Fuck, I need him to touch me. Kiss me. Anything.

"Good girl," Kristof purrs, and I close my eyes as a deep, warm satisfaction settles in my chest. I never get tired of the praise.

"You haven't touched yourself today, have you?"

"No, Sir," I gasp. "Only when I showered."

"And you didn't come?" Suddenly, warm fingers slide through my aching pussy, and I can't hold in my obscene moan.

"No, Sir," I whimper. "I haven't."

"Good girl."

I nearly come right there and then, just from a simple touch and praise. I'm well past reading to justify to myself how fucked up I am. In my mind's eye, I track Kristof's fingers as he strokes through my pussy and then up to the base of the plug keeping my ass filled. He taps on the gemstone base, sending a shock of vibration through me. Both my hands curl into the sheets, and I bite down on the pillow, fighting to keep control of my orgasm.

It's a losing battle.

With practiced, gentle but firm hands, Kristof removes the plug from my ass, and the pull sends a thrilling warmth through my entire body. Then he kisses my hole, and tingles shoot down my spine.

"Look at you, so fucking filthy and still filled with my cum."

"Yes," I moan softly. "All yours, Sir."

There's a sudden snap of a plastic bottle, and cold gel lands on my stretched hole. Enough lube to warn me of what's going to happen. The clink of a belt reaches my ears, and then everything ramps up to a hundred while my world whites out.

As Kristof's cock slams into my ass, he turns the vibrator in my pussy up to max, and nothing can stop me from coming the moment he bottoms out.

I scream out my pleasure, utterly lost to the will of my body, but it doesn't stop there. Kristof's iron grasp lands on my hips and he pulls me back onto his cock, then he begins a rapid, pounding rhythm as he starts to fuck me with wild abandon.

My mind can't focus. I'm coming hard enough that I can't breathe, but then his cock is stretching and filling me in a way that turns my mind to mush, and I can do nothing but pant and moan with each frantic thrust. Already, my core throbs with another rising orgasm. I've been so subtly stimulated all day that I can do nothing to stop it. My hands twist in the sheets, and I toss my head back and forth, rocking back greedily on every thrust. Kristof slides one hand up my back and locks a hand in my hair, pulling hard enough to lift my head from the pillow.

"I want to hear you scream," he growls, and his thrusts increase in pace. I can't deny him anything.

On his next thrust, a scream of delight tears from me, and with each thrust afterward.

He fucks feral noises out of me, and the sheets tear under my grip with how rapidly I'm tumbling toward another orgasm. I want more. I need more. I need Kristof forever. If I had my wish, he'd never stop fucking me, never stop touching me, loving me.

That single thought lights up my core like a firework.

My muscles tighten around Kristof's cock, and he moans deeply, a sound that vibrates through me like a wave. Frantically, he slams forward and shoves my face down onto the bed. The scent of cotton fills my nose on my next gasp, and then Kristof is coming. He floods my insides with heat, and that sensation triggers my next powerful orgasm.

I can't breathe, can't think, can't move. I'm suspended in never-ending pleasure as Kristof pumps me full to the brim. It's utter heaven and I never want it to end.

Eventually, sense trickles back into me. Kristof's caressing hand across my back ignites fire trails across my oversensitive skin.

"Good girl," he praises, and I whimper in delight.

When he pulls his cock free, I miss it immediately, but it's a fleeting thought as he collapses onto the bed next to me, panting. I roll over, daring to cuddle up against his side, and he doesn't fight it. As caring as he is, physical affection like cuddling seems to be a line he's not ready to cross, no matter how often I ask.

At this point, I'll take what I can get.

He watches me, his silver eyes like pools of moonlight, and I follow his gaze as it wanders over my body. He looks at me like he's seeing me for the very first time, and there's a subtle hint of awe in his eyes that I will never get tired of seeing.

Propping himself up on one elbow, his other hand skims up my abdomen toward my breasts, and he gently toys with the silver chain connecting my nipple clamps. My breath hitches, eager for whatever else he will give me.

Instead of rolling over for more sex, however, Kristof locks eyes with me, and a small smile lights up his face.

"I have a surprise for you."

My heart leaps and my eyes widen. "A surprise?"

"These past few weeks, you've really pleased me, beyond any expectations I set for us. So, this was the last time I'll fuck you in the basement."

My mouth falls open, unsure if he's saying what I think he's saying.

"Sir, you don't mean… no more sex, right?"

"No." Kristof chuckles. "You're leaving the basement. Your new bedroom? It's all ready for you."