11. LEIGH

Chapter 11

LEIGH

I wake to the sensation of silk sheets against my bare skin and the lingering scent of expensive cologne. Memories from the night before crash over me like a tidal wave—Radomir’s intense blue eyes, commanding touch, and how he’d made me feel things I’d never experienced.

My body aches in places I didn’t know could ache. A delicious soreness sends a shiver through me. I squeeze my eyes closed, not ready to face the reality of where I am or whom I’m with.

"Good morning, kotenok,“ Radomir says, his gravelly voice rolling over me, igniting a shiver that betrays my attempt to stay composed. “I trust you slept well.”

I force my eyes open, immediately locking gazes with him. Even fresh from sleep, he exudes power and control. It’s intoxicating and terrifying all at once.

“I...yes,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

“How is your hand?” Radomir reaches out and takes my now blue-knuckled hand.

Heat floods my cheeks as the sheet slips down, exposing my naked breast. I try to pull the sheet up, but Radomir stops me.

“No, kotenok,” he says, his voice low and commanding as he pulls the sheet away and flicks a thumb over my nipple making my pulse race. “You will not cover up in front of or try to hide from me. Is that clear?”

He gently kisses the hand he is still holding and runs the back of his free hand over my breast, making the nipple harden, sending signals to the triangle between my legs. “I love looking at your magnificent body.” He lowers his head and pops his lips over the nipple, swirling his tongue. “When we are alone, I may just make it a rule that you are always to be naked.” He laughs at his sick joke, which I’m not too sure is one.

My eyes fly to his. “You’re joking, right?” I squeak, trying to pull away. But every nerve ending in my body tingles as his hand runs down my stomach and dips between my pussy lips, making me gasp and my hips lift into it. “Oh…” I suck in a breath as he starts to tease me.

“Your mind may resist, ptichka,” he murmurs, his gaze locking with mine, “but your body tells me otherwise—you’re already soaked for me.”

“I...” What were we talking about again? Were we talking? My brain starts to fog over as desire ignites, lit by the flame that his clever fingers are fanning as they manipulate my greedy clit. Then he sticks two fingers into my channel as he slowly starts to fingerfuck me. “Oh… oh…” my hips begin to move in time to his digits.

“You like that, don’t you, beautiful Leigh?” His eyes move from mine down my body. “God, you’re magnificent.” He turns and captures my lips as he starts to drive me over the edge. “Come for me, ptichka. Come all over my fingers.”

He drives me over the edge and into another powerful orgasm, only this time he removes his hand before I’ve fully come down off my desired fueled high.

A whimper escapes my throat. My body feels deprived of the full pleasure of the orgasm. He positions himself over me. Leaning up on his hands, he pushes the tip of his cock inside me, pulling it in and out, teasing me.

“Look at me, kotenok,” Radomir demands. “Do you want this?” He pushes himself a little deeper inside me and moves in and out. “Do you want me to fuck you? To bring you to the release your body’s still craving?"

I’m getting lost in the depths of his blue eyes which are pools of desire, and his vulgar words should repulse me but they’re fueling this dark desire coiling like hot burning hunger inside me. I nod.

“What was that?” Radomir gives a few harder thrusts, pushing right inside me, making me press against him, wanting him to move and fill me.

“Yes…” I almost sob in pleading as his lips nick, suck, kiss my neck and torment my ears while he pulls completely out of me. Playing a game of control and manipulating me to play it with him by tormenting my weak flesh.

“No…” I breathe. “Please… please don’t stop.” My breath is labored and my mind tuning out everything else but my need to reach the ecstatic heights he drives me too. “Radomir… please…” My hips start to buck. My hungry little pussy pressing against the fur that surrounds his cock.

“Tell me what you want, Leigh,” Radomir’s voice is deep and throaty as he whispers in my ear, the soft tip of his cock teasing my entrance as his rain kisses along my chin. “Only good girls that ask get what they want.” His nose nudges my ear, and his tongue teases my earlobe. “If you want me to bury my cock deep inside your sopping little pussy you have to tell me—say it Leigh.”

“I want you to...” I swallow.

I know what he wants me to say but I’ve never said it before. I feel. But at the same time, I want to say it, it makes me feel wanton... dirty ! My eyes snap open. What is wrong with me? A pang of horror settles in as I realize I want this—crave feeling wanton and unrestrained. I want him to whisper dirty words into my ears and beg him to do things to me.

My stomach starts to churn with disgust for myself but before I can get in my head about it, Radomir drops his lips around my breast and nips my tender nipple, before he stops moving. I feel his cock slipping out of me. I move, trying to push myself onto him.

“I'm still waiting to hear what you want!” Radomir nips my breast while keeping the tip of his cock at my entrance.

“I want you!” Rips from my throat, a desperate moan wrapped in a plea. “Please, Radomir, I need you to fill me up. I need you to fuck me!” My voice raises with frustration and my hips rub my clit along his rough hairs of her groin.

“That’s my girl,” Radomir purses, his lips crushing mine as he starts thrusting into me, and I meet each one as the intensity builds, driving us toward the pinnacle of pleasure. I’m about to peak, and he growls. “Tell me who you belong to!” He grabs my hair, pulling my head back and forcing me to look into his eyes. “Say it!”

I’m not sure how he can have so much control, but I’m about to tumble over the edge. Right now, I would say anything as I plunge into a mind-blowing orgasm.

I scream. “You! I belong to you. I’m yours.” My cry reverberates around the room as Radomir starts hammering into me and I see stars. “I’m yours... of fuckkkk, fuuuuuuuckkkk. That’s so… oh Godddddd.”

A growl rolls out of Radomir’s throat as he pumps faster. “Jesus, Leigh... fuck… I’m coming baby.”

As he explodes, pouring his seed inside me, I feel myself riding the ripples of my orgasm aftershock as Radomir collapses onto his elbows, careful not to squash me. His head is on my shoulder as his movements slow, and I feel the walls of my pussy milk the last drops from his shaft.

Radomir wraps his arms around me, and while he’s still inside me, he rolls us onto our sides, with me buried against his solid chest. We lie wrapped together, slowly getting our breath back, and I feel my eyes drifting shut when he kisses my head.

“Although I’d love to stay here with you all day and explore the heights I can take you to.” He reaches down and squeezes my butt. “I have some business to attend to.” He kisses my forehead. “You get some more sleep. It is still early. I have ordered clothes, toiletries, and other necessary items.” Radomir’s cock plops out of me. He unravels himself from me and sits. “I will have breakfast delivered here in two hours.”

My body starts to relax, and my eyes are closed when I feel Radomir slip off the bed and a few seconds later the shower goes on. I don’t know how long I’ve been drifting on the edge of sleep when I hear the shower stop.

There is dead quiet for a few minutes before the fresh scent of soap and cologne wafts into the room. I hear closets opening and closing. The sound of a belt being buckled but my eyes are too heavy to open and look. When the door to the bedroom gently clicks shut I give over to the oblivion of sleep.

The sound of the bedroom door jolts me awake. My eyes fly open. I grip the sheet to my chest and sit up, meeting the startled gaze of a housekeeper in a neat uniform. She holds a tray in her hands. It is filled with the delicious aroma of bacon and freshly brewed coffee, making my mouth water and stomach growl.

“Oh… Miss Dalton, I’m so sorry to have woken you,” the young woman says apologetically. “I was going to leave your breakfast tray Mr. Molchanov ordered for you.” She gives me a tight smile.

“It’s okay.” Pulling the large sheet around me, making it into a navy blue toga, I follow the breakfast tray to the table where we played poker the previous night. I try not to let my mind give me a play-by-play and concentrate on breakfast.

“I’ll come back in a while to collect the dishes and make the bed,” she tells me before slipping out the door.

I dig into the delicious breakfast of mouth-watering flavors—shit, Radomir’s chef even knows how to magically make bacon and scrambled eggs taste better. Sated, I sit back and stare at the city through the sparkling, clean windows as morning rises over it while I sip my coffee. I guess it’s not the worst prison to be held captive in.

Finishing the coffee, I feel guilty about not taking my own dishes to the kitchen, although I doubt the silk sheet toga I’m sporting would be the proper attire to pad through the apartment. My eyes fix on the bathroom. But I need a shower and to wash my hair. It must look like rat tails now. Not to mention, it was probably knotted into painful twists.

Padding into the bathroom, I brace my feet to meet the cold marble floor, but to my surprise, they’re pleasantly warm. Huh! Rich people even have warmer floor tiles. Breathing out, I head toward the shower that could fit my entire kitchen in.

he shower looks designed for a giant—or maybe just a man with an equally oversized ego. I reach out for the taps. “What the—“ I spin around, searching in vain for the taps. All I see is sleek chrome and a glowing panel that looks like it belongs in a spaceship. “Great. I’ve stumbled into a teleportation unit. Knowing my luck, it’ll send me to fucking Siberia... naked.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, staring at the control panel that somehow knows I’m there as the screen greets me. Good morning! What setting would you like the shower jets ?

My head shoots around, looking for hidden cameras, and I suddenly feel like I’m being watched. I touch a button. I’m not sure what button it is, as it’s clearly not written in English and is designed for someone with a master’s in computer science. It looks like something out of a sci-fi movie, all sleek chrome and blinking lights.

“Who designed this? NASA?” My brow furrows as I reach for another button when the one I hit does nothing. “I hope this isn’t a teleportation unit.” I jab at a few buttons. A jet of ice-cold water blasts me square in the face.

“Shit!” I yelp, stumbling backward. “Okay, not that one.”

I try again, activating what seems to be a steam function. The bathroom quickly fills with fog, leaving me no clearer on how the fucking thing works. I hit another button, and I’m once again treated to a spray of ice-cold water, only this time, the malicious shower hits me in the eye.

“For fuck’s sake,” I grumble, grabbing my eye and jumping out of the shower of doom. “Is a simple on-off switch too much to ask?” I yell, fumbling for a towel while trying not to rub my eyes.

"Miss Dalton?“ The housekeeper peeks into the bathroom, hesitating just inside the door.

Her eyes travel the length of my body, making me feel very uncomfortable. I grab the first towel my fingers latch onto and bring it to my—fuck, it’s a hand towel that barely covers the front of me.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” the housekeeper holds up her hands. “I didn’t mean to, uh, to stare. You have an amazing body.” My eyes widen. “Oh no, not like that. I like men. I’m a designer.” She smiles at me. “Well, an aspiring designer. I’m working my way through design school.” She runs a hand over her uniform. “I also do personal shopping for Mr. Molchanov.” She glances over my shoulder to the evil shower. “That’s why he asked me to go shopping for you.” She points to the shower. “May I?”

“You can work it?” I look at her in surprise.

Her smile broadens. “Only just learned.” She whispers conspiratorially.

“I take it there’s no instruction manual?”

“Let me show you,” she says, laughing and walking to the control panel to show me how to use it. “When you want it to switch off, you can either hit this button or say, Shower switch off ,“ she commands, and the water stops flowing. “Although I think that’s a bit creepy.” She shudders. “Like the shower’s watching me when I clean it.”

“Thank you.” I breathe a sigh of relief and look in. “Shit. Do you know where the shampoo and conditioner are?”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen. “I got you some, specially for your hair type, to put the bounce back in your curls and help keep them tangle-free.” She rushes out of the room and returns within a few seconds, her hands loaded with bags from top cosmetic houses. She puts them on the counter and pulls a bottle of shampoo and conditioner from one. My eyes widen. “Here.” She hands them to me.

“Jesus!” I say, taking it. Fuck, I’ve only ever dreamed of buying this shampoo. “Thank you.” I hold up the bottles. “Umm…” I look at the shower pointedly and then give her a: that’s your cue to leave type look . “Thanks again.”

She nods and leaves me alone in the bathroom to tackle the shower.

Forty minutes later, I walk out wrapped in a fluffy towel, smelling and feeling like a million dollars, with my clean, blow-dried hair all silky, smooth, and shiny. The housekeeper bought a selection of expensive high-end skin care products, cosmetics, deodorant, creams, and perfume. I feel like a queen!

I look around the room for my clothes, but they’re gone. Even my sneakers are gone. “Shit!”

Radomir’s voice cuts through the quiet. “Looking for something?” I spin around, clutching the towel tighter.

“My clothes!” I hiss.

“They have been cleaned and donated,” Radomir tells me.

“What?” My eyes widen. “You have no right to take my stuff.”

A knock on the door interrupts us.

“Come,” Radomir barks, looking at his wristwatch as the housekeeper who helped me earlier enters.

“Sorry, Mr. Molchanov I didn’t know you were here,” she apologizes.

“That’s alright, Tracy,” Radomir tells her. “I was on my way out.” He turns to me. “Please be dressed and ready in twenty minutes.” He swivels on his heel and leaves the room.

“I’ve sent the rest of your new outfits to the estate,” Tracy tells me, holding up an armload of bags. “I kept these back. I will order the rest for your closet in the penthouse during the week.”

“Excuse me?” I look at Tracy with raised brows. My heart has picked up speed. That’s not good. I can’t go to an estate. I need to stay in the city if I’m going to escape.

“Mr. Molchanov requested I stock the penthouse and the estate with your wardrobe.” Tracy smiles. “It saves packing for short visits.”

I hardly register what she’s saying. “What estate?”

“Oh!” Tracy’s eyes widen. “I thought you knew. Mr. Molchanov has an estate on the outskirts of town,” Tracy explains as she starts pulling outfits out of the bags and hanging them on a rail that mysteriously appeared. “It’s beautiful out there.” She smiles at me. “You’re going to love it.”

“Love it?”

“Yes, that’s where you’re going in twenty minutes,” Tracy replies, glancing at her wristwatch. “Speaking of time, you must hurry and dress Miss Dalton. Mr. Molchanov doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

I don’t give a flying fuck about Radomir’s aversion to lateness. My mind is reeling with this information about the estate I’m being taken to. “I, er, excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.”

I’m about to storm out of the room when Tracy stops me. “Miss Dalton, maybe you want to get dressed before you go out there?” Her brow creases, and her voice lowers. “One of Mr. Molchanov’s men is outside the door.”

“Yes, you’re right,” I say, turning around and eyeing the admittedly beautiful collection of clothes. “What do you suggest?” I ask, pointing at the rack.

Tracy holds up a sleek pantsuit. “How about this? It will cover your phone.”

My eyes widen, and shock zaps through me. “You found my phone?” I whisper.

“Yes,” Tracy nods. “Luckily, I was the one restacking the towels this morning.”

“Did you tell Radomir?” I begin, my voice tight, but she shakes her head quickly.

“No,” Tracy promises me. “I understand that you need to be in contact with the outside world.”

“How much do you know about me being here?” My brow creases, and my eyes narrow questioningly.

“Everything,” Tracy tells me. “I’m Dolph’s youngest sister. I tend to get most of the top information.”

Well, that’s just great!

“Don’t worry, I know what it’s like to be trapped in this world.” Tracy’s eyes darken. “And wanting a way out.” She glances at the door. “You get dressed, and I’ll get your phone for you.”

She turns and leaves me staring after her, wondering if I can trust her, even though I know I really want to. It would be nice to have an ally on the inside.