Page 15 of Take Me

Lifting a hand to twirl a lock of my auburn hair, he said softly, “A pretty littleLisichkagoing into the woods all alone.”

“Lisj— Lisich—?” I said, trying to form the Russian-sounding word.

“Lisichka,” he repeated. “It’s Russian for little fox.”

“Oh,” was all I could say.

Releasing the pendant, he moved his thumb to my pulse point and circled with feather-light movement. “All alone in the woods, hoping the big bad wolf won’t come to get her.”

Something in his eyes darkened and deepened, and my breaths became shallow, my cheeks heating, as I felt something coming.

“Or hoping that it does.” Leaning his elbow on the bar, he moved closer, and I completely lost the ability to breathe as he slowly slipped his fingers around my slender wrist, entrapping it in his strong grip.

My head clouded and the world around me swam as all I saw was him.

“Submissive?” he asked softly.

“What?” I all but gasped.

“I think you are,” he said to himself. Tightening his grip on my wrist, he tilted his head slightly as he studied my reaction. And that was it. I was spellbound. Unable to think or breathe on my own from that moment.

CHAPTER

4

I wake to the sound of screaming. The shrill wails of a desperate woman.

At first, I think it’s a nightmare, or maybe a TV somewhere. The sound is too anguished to be real. I’ve never heard anything like it.

But as the noise approaches, the sound takes on a resonant quality a TV can’t produce. It seems to bounce off walls and become even more obtrusive as a big, empty space prolongs the sound in horrid echoes.

No, this is not a TV. Someone is in real distress.

I jerk to sit up straight but fall back on the mattress with a thud as my arms catch on something. Something that rattles.

Chains, I realize. Chains connected to heavy weights around my wrists.

I fumble through the darkness, trying to make sense of it all. My hands slip over a thick blanket, onto a sheet that covers a foam mattress, and up onto rough, cold stone, where I find the attachment point for the chain.

I pull my hands away like I’ve been burned and clutch the teddy in my arms.

No! This is not real.

Closing my eyes, I try to conjure memories of my week with Nikolai—late nights of talking and laughing, fear and pleasure mixing together and exploding in earth-shattering orgasms, him holding me as I processed through tears. The promise to see each other again at the train station, the red fox, and finally getting on the train.

The train.

The memory gives rise to nightmarish images that flash before my inner eye and blend with the keening sounds in horrific harmony.

Except, it’s no nightmare. The memories are as real as the screams that resound outside this dark space that is my cell.

Turning onto my side, I press one ear into the mattress and lift my chained hands to cover the other. It only takes the brunt of the sound, but I keep them there until the scream fades into the distance and finally dies with the loud clank of a heavy door.

Carefully, I lift my hand from my ear. The silence around me is jarring, and the sound of my shallow breaths adds a new layer of desperation as they become the only sound to fill the darkness.

I have no idea how long I lie there, frozen in place, my heart pounding with the speed and weight of a freight train.

Finally, I hear movement in the hall again. This time, there’s no screaming. Just the clicking of shoes. Fancy shoes, I think, but the sound is foreboding, nonetheless.

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