Page 69 of Mafie Queen
But our orgasms crash into us without warning, the buildup so strong that we have no choice but to fall apart together in eachother's arms. I groan my release into the crook of her neck as she breathes hers into mine. I relish the feel of her soft, supple skin on mine as we ride the waves together.
Finally, after we’ve caught our breaths, I lift my head to look down at her only to see Lev must have finished around the same time we did because he’s covered in his release.
He smiles at me and I return it, turning to our girl who strokes her fingers through my longer hair.
“I love you, Sunshine.”
“I love you with my whole being, Little Shadow.”
Chapter 25
Alexi guides me with a hand on my back to the cars. We’re heading to the cathedral today to convince two hundred people who hate each other to put aside their differences and work together on taking down my uncle's organization.
It sounds ridiculous. The fact that I will have to talk in front of them all is even worse though. The reason I never showed my scars was because I hate pity. I don’t want to see it on any of their faces. Not pity or judgment.
I can’t understand why I’m so triggered, but the moment we get in the car, I freeze. My limb goes utterly stiff as our driver opens his door and a puff of cigarette smoke assaults me.
“Wakey, wakey, whore. We have some fun stuff planned for today.”
My eyes bolt open at the sound of his voice only to flinch shut when the light above nearly blinds me.
I wiggle my body, trying to get my bearings. It’s then that I realize I’m naked on a table. A metal table. My neck is strapped in an awkward position, forcing it back so I can’t turn my head. My arms and legs are strapped down and a heavy belt wraps around my middle.
I attempt to shake my head as a torrent of other emotions slam into me. Rostya has never made me vulnerable like this. He’s never once stripped me down like this that I can remember. An even worse feeling creeps into my mind.
Why can’t I remember?
I know I’ve been here for a while now based on how much weight I’ve lost. So why can’t I remember it?
Panicked breathing hits me, but I do everything I can to hold onto my mind. I won’t give him the satisfaction of breaking my psyche. He can have my body, it means nothing to me anymore. But my mind is all I have left.
I take a deep breath, attempting to calm my racing heart that’s threatening to explode right out of my chest and onto this cold table. But the moment I let the calm wash over me, pain erupts from my center, shocking me around my middle where the belt holds me tight.
My body tenses as a guttural scream leaves my lips, and I feel a piece of me leave with it. He’s winning, and the thought is more terrifying than the pain.
Because he doesn’t want to just hurt me. He wants to own me. I can’t let that happen. I wail and scream until my throat is raw and the collar around my neck feels suffocating.
Then, he laughs. Hysterically.
“You’re such a fun toy to play with, my dear. You came in here so strong, so determined. I have only had you for a week, and I can see your little mind shattering to pieces already. How my son was attracted to someone as pathetic as you I will never understand.”
He shakes his head as he looms over me. But that’s the thing. The one thing he doesn’t understand is everytime I see his face, it renews my strength. It gives me a picture of who I’m fighting.
So when he stares down at me, assuming he’s already won, I gather all of the spit in my mouth and force it to land on his face.
The way he loses all sense of composure, the moment my saliva makes contact with his cheek, is the only joy I have come to find here. Aside from the man sitting in the corner. He’s always here, but he never touches me unless ordered. If he has to, then he’s careful and respectful.
I have no idea who he is, but he makes me feel safe in some way. He looks like a mix of Damien and Lev together, but the red tattoo on his neck separates him from them in my mind.
Rostya wipes his face with his hand and glares down at me.
“You might not be as broken as I thought. But don’t worry. Mark my words, little girl. You. Will. Break.”
He’s right, and we both know it. If no one comes for me soon, I will lose it. But he doesn't need any reassurance until that moment. At least then I won’t be able to comprehend it.
So instead of begging, or worse, staying quiet, I do the last thing he expects. I laugh. I put all of my strength into it and watch as his face morphes from smug and arrogant to utterly furious with his lack of control over me.
Internally, I’m crying. Screaming and doing everything I can to keep my sanity, but I won’t let him see that.
