Page 47 of Take Me

Nikolai watches me like he can see into the very depths of my soul as he answers Mikhail. “I only need this one.” He picks something off the mattress, and then rough jute material dulls my senses as he pulls a small sack over my head and tightens it around my throat, fastening it with a knot.

“Put her in the box,” he says, and Mikhail and Dax hoist me up by the arms and carry me across the room.

Whatever little light the sack offers fades as they lay me in the box, between four solid walls. I’m grateful to feel that the insides are padded, so my skin won’t scrape against the rough wood as I jostle about in the crate. It reminds me of the trunk on the night they took me—the pillows Mikhail used to pad the confined space and the uncertainty. I know as little about where I’m going and what’s going to happen to me as I did back then. But there’s one big difference. This time, I’m not being taken away from Nikolai; I’m being brought to him, wherever that may be.

Nikolai’s scent drifts past the jute as he leans down and pushes the fox under my arm—the same teddy he gave me when he sent me off to be kidnapped and trained for his pleasure.

Then he’s gone, and the darkness becomes complete as the lid is placed on the box. Sharp sounds of nails and hammers fill the space as they seal it closed.

“See you soon, my sweetLisichka,” Nikolai says just before the box lifts off the ground and I’m carried away.

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

Four months later

My breath is coming in ragged drags as I step into the presidential suite at the Four Seasons Hotel in Paris. Wiping the towel around my neck at my sweaty forehead, I halt in my tracks as I enter the living area and hear Nikolai’s voice.

“I want you to go out and buy yourself the perfect dress for tonight.”

Looking up, I find him leaning back in the upholstered chair behind the desk across the room. The vision of his effortless authority always takes me aback, speeding up my already racing heart even as it pulls me into a state of calm submission. But what has the biggest effect on me today are his words.

“But I’ve nev–” I stop myself. He already knows I’ve never gone out without him despite being allowed to do so for a month now.

“Usual procedure for going out alone,” he adds, reminding me of the exact reason I’ve never gone out.

“I have plenty of pretty dresses in the wardrobe,” I try.

“This is not about the dress, and you know it. I’ve given you a month to build up to this, and I’m done waiting.”

Breathing a shuddery sigh, I nod and lower my gaze. “Yes, Master.”

“Daniil will look after you.” Nikolai gestures at the man who is standing quietly to the side with his hands folded before him. “He’ll even help you with the transactions if you need it and speak on your behalf.”

I cast a glance back at the brawny guard, who has quietly followed me to the downstairs gym, waited discreetly at the side while I did my third round of yoga this week, then followed me back up. He’s always there, yet I’ve never spoken a word to him, and that’s probably why I’ve never gone out—because of the thing I have to ask him to do in order to do so. Or maybe because of the humiliation that will follow.

“It’s time you get used to it. I don’t want you stuck inside the hotel all day when I’m away.”

“Okay. I understand, Master,” I say politely even as my blood swooshes with nervous energy.

“Good girl. Now come here and get your reward.” He gets up and holds his hand out to me.

Gingerly, I pad across the room to stand in front of him.

Grabbing my waist, he lifts me to sit on the desk and leans down to kiss me. “Did you like the yoga instructor?” he asks as he breaks the kiss.

“She was great,” I say, my lips tipping up in a shy smile as he curves his hand around my cheek and strokes his thumb along my skin.

“Good. We’ll be staying here for another two weeks, and I’d like to keep you limber.” As if to test the fruits of the many hours of private yoga lessons he’s paid for, he sets my feet up on the wooden surface and slowly pushes my knees apart.

Folding my hands around his neck, I hold on as he spreads me wide open, and I vaguely notice a door closing behind us as Daniil takes the cue and leaves the room.

Slowly, he drags his fingers up my inner thigh to caress my pussy, eliciting a flurry of sparks and shudders under the thin fabric of my yoga shorts. Then he moves up, over my stomach and chest, wrapping his hand around my throat, squeezing as he slowly pushes me down to lie on the desk.

“Open your mouth, little slut,” he orders, leaning down to hover his lips right above mine.

A staggered breath stutters in my constricted throat as I part my lips and lean my head back to grant him access. Heat and humiliation twine and twirl inside me as he spits in my mouth.

“Don’t swallow,” he demands, drawing his head back a little to watch the spit glide down my tongue. “Tonight, you’re gonna wear the ring gag, and every man at the table is going to spit into your mouth before we start eating. Then, you’ll sit there, patiently waiting with their spit stuck on your tongue, until we’re done.”

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