Page 26 of Gamble with Me
The realization hit me like a truck, knocking the air out of my lungs. I glanced at him with my heart almost jumping from my chest, lost in a swirl of confusion and shock.
Did I have a stalker?
“Why did you go to the Quick Cash?” he asked, cutting the flow of my thoughts. I stared at him in bewilderment; every nerve in my body tensed. I read stories about stalkers and their victims. They never had a happy ending. Why the hell did he pick me? From all the women?
“To pray,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. My mind was too preoccupied with catastrophic scenarios of my slow death at the hands of a psychopath to care about my rude behavior.
“Finally, you’re getting your spirit back.” He winked at me, and I snorted, shaking my head in annoyance with the situation and this conversation. His remark only confirmed he knew me far too well.
“Let’s celebrate,” I deadpanned, trying to direct the dialogue elsewhere, but he didn’t want to let the topic go.
“Later, mon cœur.” He sat in his previous position with his legs crossed, leaning back and supporting his upper body with his elbows. “Aren’t you working for the Zhumagulovs? I heard they pay great.”
The mentioning of the brothers caused various feelings to wash over me. For a split second, an idea about Zyon being hidden under the black outfit, staring at me like a lovesick puppy, appeared in my mind, but I quickly discarded it. He wouldn’t waste his time or energy on me. Surely not after the stunt I had pulled the other day. But who would?
“It was a one-time deal,” I replied, grunting when another attempt to get out of the restraints failed.
“Can you free my hand, please?” I grumbled, wriggling. “My neck is itchy.”
“Let me help you with that,” he purred, rising to his feet, and I inhaled sharply.
At first, I didn’t realize what I had just said. But when the eyes of my kidnapper lit up like the fire was ignited in them, my stomach sank. It wasn’t wise to give him ammunition, yet I wasn’t thinking. It was my first time with my very own stalker. Mistakes were understandable.
“Y-you don’t need to,” I stammered, clenching my palms into fists.
I couldn't vouch for myself. My head was completely fucked up. My imagination was on the highest performance level, picturing the man of my dreams being covered from head to toe and holding me captive. If he touched me...
The abductor stopped behind me, his vast body throwing an unnerving shadow on the ground. Not seeing him directly made me restless even more than I already was, and when I felt his fingers on my skin, I flinched like a jolt of electricity had shot me. The fear blended with excitement, heightening my senses. My body tensed, not knowing what to expect.
“Are you scared, Valeria?” he asked in a husky whisper. His mouth was next to my ear, and a chill ran up my spine. His hand moved leisurely down the back of my neck to the hem of my sweater, caressing my skin gently. The mask’s fabric was harsh against my cheek when he brushed his nose along my face, yet his touch wasn’t violent or aggressive—just the opposite.
It was subtle and tender, even calming. It felt like he enjoyed every inch of me he could touch, and my skin tingled with long-forgotten delight. I should have been scared to the bones, screaming and kicking to get out of there, but I was chained not only by restraints but also by the pleasure he unlocked.
Closing my eyes briefly, I instinctively tilted my head, giving him better access to my neck. He instantly used the opportunity, wrapping one hand around my throat like a necklace and moving the other down to my chest.
“Fuck, Valeria,” he breathed into my ear, cupping my breast. “You’re so perfect.”
A quiet moan left my lips, and I pressed them into a line to stop another from escaping. I grabbed the armrests with my hands, digging my feet into the floor. My brain stopped functioning after all the stress, and even when I knew this was ultimately wrong, I enjoyed every fucking second of it.
Kidnapped, tied to a chair, and unable to move with a psychopath having his hand under my sweater, playing me like his favorite instrument, I lost myself in this ridiculous illusion.
My mind was playing tricks on me. This absurd situation made my common sense disappear. I confused reality with a wild dream or some dark fantasy and considered it a great escape from my problems. At least momentarily, I could get away from Chester and all the trouble he caused.
“That’s enough for today.”
I snapped open my eyes, waking from my reverie, when the deep voice reached my ears.
“Oh, God,” I breathed, the blood rushing to my head, reddening my cheeks. “I almost…”
The words died on my tongue when he entered my line of view and crouched before me.
“If you want me to finish it—” he started, deepening my frustration from my ruined orgasm and destroyed fantasy.
“Are youinsane?” I cut him off, fighting with the clamps around my wrists and ankles. “You chained me to a chair!”
My dignity had been trampled on. I was disgusted by my own body. Shame quickly spread into every cell, and I felt dirty and dishonorable.
What the fuck happened to me? Have I completely lost my mind? I was still married, for Christ’s sake!
