by Kitty Thomas
“Lie back, pet.”
He took something out of the dresser drawer. A blindfold. She couldn’t help the fear that swamped her.
“I’m not going to hurt you, kiska. I just want you to focus on how you feel and nothing else. Close your eyes. What can it hurt to just relax and see what happens?”
He was the devil. All smooth temptation. His voice silk and aged scotch. What else was she going to do? Annette sighed and leaned back against the pillows and shut her eyes.
When the blindfold was secure, he raised her arms over her head, and suddenly, he had more silk to tie her wrists to the headboard. Then his warm mouth was on her neck, raining kisses over her skin as it pebbled with goosebumps in response. He began to speak in a low, soothing voice in Russian.
The only word she understood was kiska when it came tripping out of his mouth every now and then, punctuated sharply by a litany of words and phrases she might never decode.
His hands were so warm as they stroked lightly over her skin. It was less massage this time and more a gentle petting sensation. Her breath caught in her throat when he began to rub between her legs, still speaking softly to her in Russian.
A part of her desperately wanted to know what he was saying, but another part of her was simply caught up in the magic of the sounds rolling off his tongue, this beautiful mystery that told her everything she needed to know just by his tone.
This must be what mating must have felt like for humans before language could come and complicate the dance. Just sounds that no one could decipher. Just the feelings, not the content.
He kissed a trail down her belly, and then his tongue was between her legs, slowly and carefully licking the tender sensitive flesh, the center of her pleasure, which the other two bumbling idiots hadn’t been able to find with a map and a flashlight. But Anton knew the map of her body as if he’d drawn it up himself. His expert tongue caused her hips to arch off the bed, pushing harder against his mouth. Neither of the men she’d previously been with had ever done this.
A whimper escaped her throat. It was answered with a chuckle and more Russian. She wondered if he even realized he wasn’t speaking English right now.
All of a sudden he released her wrists from their restraints. “I want you on your hands and knees.” These were the first words she’d understood in twenty minutes.
“Master, please...” She was so close. Would he just… leave her like this?
“Now,” he said.
She rushed to obey him. A moment later he thrust into her. When he filled her, it took her breath away. He began to move inside her with an aching slowness. His fingers trailed gently over her back and then dug hard into her hips as he increased his pace.
Annette was absolutely one hundred percent sure she was one of the many women who simply couldn’t come from intercourse alone. But then, no one had ever spent so much careful time getting her ready for him before Anton.
“Come,” he practically growled in her ear. “Do it right now like a good little slut.”
In a rational world, that would have shut her down. It should have been impossible. But the Russian was a drug, and the high rode her as much as she rode it until the pleasure he’d demanded from her came in a rush that felt like possession, ripping a scream from her throat.
Anton’s pleasure followed quickly behind hers, and then he pulled out of her, collapsed onto the bed, and pulled her body flush against his.
“Now, sleep.”
46
Anton pulled into the parking lot of Dome at ten o’clock. Since buying the isolated mansion, he’d reduced his days to just three a week and taken on more help. He’d turned part of the spa into an apartment when he bought the place. It had seemed a good use of resources at the time, but now it was even better. He didn’t have to pay rent on a separate apartment, and he had a place to sleep in case he didn’t want to make the commute back to the house.
But right now, the house was the only place he wanted to be. He still couldn’t believe this rare beauty was his. He’d awakened with her warm soft body pressed against his, and he’d hated leaving her. He hadn’t given her any rules yet—just that Gabe was in charge while he was away and to call him Sir. The title extended also to Brian and Lindsay. He would deal with figuring out how to train her when he got back.
Both Anton and Lindsay commuted into the city to work, and both the shrink and massage therapist were looking for candidates for the house.
The shrink would probably be the most successful at first since he’d been billing himself as a kink-friendly sex therapist for quite some time now. He already had potentials he was in the process of interviewing. If they passed his screening, he’d send them on to Anton. If they passed Anton’s, they would be brought to the house and trained. They could have as many as eight or nine girls within a month or two, which meant they needed to figure out the training protocol quickly.
The spa already buzzed with activity. Anton went through his massage room to the small apartment to drop off his laptop. Then he went to the attached restaurant. He hadn’t had time for breakfast at the house even though Phyllis seemed like she was already in full command of the kitchen.
The restaurant was his favorite part of the spa and had been part the brain-child of Lindsay. The dining area was an entirely glassed-in space that looked a bit like being inside of a clear glass golf ball. It was where the spa’s name came from, because of the huge dome shape of the restaurant.
But the best part was all the plants. Lindsay had helped him pick out tons of tropical plants and trees to be housed under the glass dome. Being inside the restaurant felt like being in the middle of the jungle—except with air conditioning and nice tables with linen tablecloths and napkins.
A moment later, one of the wait staff came out. Sarah? He couldn’t remember all of their names, and this one was new. She looked nervous—probably because he was the owner.
“Mr. Volikov I’m afraid we’re out of breakfast. I was told you prefer brunch.”
A quick glance at her name tag proved his guess right. “Sarah, do you know who is in charge of ordering?” he asked calmly.
“Terrence, sir.”
“I’ll need to have a talk with Terrence, then. We should never be out of things on the menu.” Anton sighed. “What else do we have today?”
“We have a fresh New England clam chowder, sir, and our regular selection of sandwiches.”
“That’ll be fine.”
“W-which sandwich?”
“Surprise me. And iced tea.”
She nodded and quickly scurried back to the kitchen to put his order in. He sat facing the main door. Janette should be walking through it in the next fifteen minutes.
As if thought alone could conjure her, the bell over the door jangled, and she walked in. Better early than late. He’d feared she wouldn’t show up at all. He had hoped for her sake, and for her sister’s, that she’d be smart.
When she reached the table, Anton gestured at the chair across from him. “Have a seat. I was just ordering something to eat. We’re out of breakfast food, but you could have some lunch if you like. My treat.”
Janette sat. “N-no thank you. I just had breakfast an hour ago.”
“Let me rephrase that. You will have something to eat. I don’t like to eat in front of others. It’s rude.” He could see her biting back a smart retort.
Sarah returned with the tea and took Janette’s order. Lemon water and a chicken salad sandwich on a croissant.
When they were alone again, Anton said, “Have you been a good girl?”
She looked down at her lap. At first he thought she’d told someone, the police or someone else. But then he saw the tears slipping down her cheeks.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good.” He passed his linen napkin to her. “Wipe your eyes. No one needs to see you crying. You’re supposed to be here for a job interview. Nobody cries at a job interview.” At least no one who got hired.
She dabbed
at her eyes quickly and took a long shuddering breath.
“Better.” Anton pulled out his cell phone and dialed the house. Gabe answered on the third ring. “Let me speak with Annette.” While he waited, he watched her sister across the table.
The resemblance was uncanny. He could hardly be blamed for taking the wrong girl. They were exactly the same, except for their personalities. Janette seemed more fragile and more easily spooked. Not like her sister. Annette was determined and brave.
It seemed odd to him that the determined brave sister had been deemed the one without a future and the sensitive one was studying to be a doctor. He hoped she wasn’t as skittish about blood as she seemed to be about everything else.
“Good morning, pet. Did you sleep well?” Anton asked when Annette got on the phone.
“Yes, Master.”
“Did Phyllis make you some breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Your sister would like to speak to you.” He passed the phone to Janette before his eardrum could be busted by the surprised squeal that followed.
Janette warily took the phone. “Are you okay?” She stared him down while she listened to her sister talk. “Hold on a second,” she said when Sarah brought their food and drinks out.
When the waitress went back to the kitchen, she resumed the conversation. Anton tried the soup. At least the clams were fresh. Dome was the nicest spa in the city. They had a reputation to live up to.
“I don’t understand… but why? What aren’t you telling me? … I can’t just leave you there … but I’ll never see you again… no, I don’t understand. No! That sounds fucking crazy!”
Anton’s eyebrow rose at Janette’s language. She didn’t seem the type to swear.
“But what if...” Janette said. Her sister must have cut her off and was now going off into a long diatribe. “Fine. Fine. Yes, I understand. I get it, but you can’t just expect me to… But what if he hurts you… You can’t know that… okay… yes, okay. Bye.” She disconnected the call and passed the phone back to Anton.
“Well?” he said. “What did she say? Did she seem well?” He smirked and took another bite of the clam chowder.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to her, but she claims she’s fine and that I shouldn’t worry. She even sounded fine. This is some kind of trick. You’re going to be nice to her just long enough to lull me into a false sense of security so I can take your blood money guilt free.”
“Oh, is that what I’m doing?”
“Of course it is.”
“Well I’m glad you know my mind more than I do,” Anton said.
Sarah walked up then. “Is everything all right?”
“No, it isn’t. Tell Terrence I said to stop sweetening the iced tea. If the guest wants sugar, they can add it themselves. He’s supposed to be using high enough quality tea leaves that it tastes good without sugar. Also, this is a spa. The guests expect their food and drink to be healthier choices.”
“Yes, sir.” And she scampered off.
Such a nervous little thing, but at least she was unlikely to bother them again.
“Are you going to hurt her?” Janette asked.
“Who, Sarah? No. It’s not her fault Terrence can’t control his impulse to add sugar to the iced tea.”
“No, my sister!” she hissed.
“Of course I’m not going to hurt her. I would never hurt a pet.”
Janette made a disgusted face. “She’s not a pet. She’s a person. And my sister. I can’t just let you get away with this.”
“And what exactly will you do to stop me? You will hear from your sister daily.”
“But I’ll never see her again.”
“I didn’t say that. That all depends on many factors. Now, I will need your school schedule so we can find a few hours a week for you to work at the reception desk. I also need all your school bills and any other bills so I can start paying them.”
“I-I’ll have to get that together.”
He could tell she hated this plan, but how else was she going to be able to afford to continue going to school and not live under a bridge? She needed to learn to be more pragmatic, like her sister.
Annette lay beside the pool after a late lunch. This wasn’t bad as hostage situations went. She’d been surprised when Anton had given her the run of the house before he’d left instead of locking her up somewhere. She’d been even more surprised to find most of the rooms had been furnished with clothing and swim wear. Both items were made to fit more than one size—but still a pretty narrow range. The red and white striped bikini she picked fit perfectly.
She’d grabbed a pair of sunglasses, gotten some lunch from Phyllis, and headed for the pool. If this was her life now, she planned to take advantage of any bit of joy she could squeeze out of it. The older woman joined her a little while later in workout shorts and a T-shirt. Phyllis wasn’t fat, but she was definitely a little bigger than the clothes at the house were meant for, so they were tight.
“How can you just be out here lying in the sun like this?” Phyllis asked. She flung her arms in the air dramatically and then put her hands on her hips to put extra emphasis on her disapproval.
“What the hell else am I going to do?” She hadn’t found a phone in the house, just a couple of doors locked—probably where the phones were. As if they would make that mistake twice.
“Well, I don’t know. But you’re just so damn calm about all this. It gives me the creeps.”
Annette lowered her sunglasses and gave the older woman a pointed look. “Well, I’m sorry I give you the creeps.” She fixed her sunglasses back over her eyes.
“We should try to find a way out of here while we have the chance. They might do anything to us. They still might kill us. It’s not like they can keep us here forever. They have to know that. I knew there was something wrong with that Russian man when I sold him the house. Get up! We have to go,” she hissed, smacking Annette on the thigh.
“Nope,” Annette said. She leaned back against the lounger, letting the sun warm her face.
“Why? Afraid to walk a bit?”
“No. I’m afraid they’ll hurt my sister if I break my end of the bargain. I did this to protect her.” And there was also the chance the men of the house would catch them running and kill them. Or that night would fall, they’d be out in the middle of nowhere, and a bear would eat them.
She’d keep the pool, thanks.
Phyllis shook her head as if Annette were insane. And maybe she was. She knew she wasn’t having the normal reaction to any of this. But that was who she was—never the expected response to things. An aunt had died a couple of years before, and it had taken her a week and a half to process it enough to cry. She hadn’t even cried at the funeral. And she hadn’t worn black—instead opting for a calf-length teal dress and nude sling backs. She’d been the only person there without mascara running down her face. But she’d fallen apart later in private. Maybe that would happen here.
Maybe she’d be okay for a week and a half, just trudging through, and suddenly have some kind of breakdown over her captivity. But even so, the facts of why she’d made this choice hadn’t changed and wouldn’t change. Not only had she bought her sister’s freedom from the house, but from the crushing school debt she’d otherwise have. No matter what happened here, if Anton held his end of the bargain, Annette had no regrets for protecting her sister and her future.
“It’s hot out. I think I’ll get in the water.” She got off the lounger and jumped into the pool, splashing a bit of water on the older woman. “You should join me. I bet one of the bikinis would fit close enough.”
“I can’t believe you’re not more upset by all of this!”
Annette shrugged. “It is what it is.” Though what exactly it was, she still wasn’t one hundred percent sure. Given that she’d been pulling nonsense out of her ass at the club the other night and hadn’t even known what a safe word was, she had no real idea what could happen in the Russian’s care.
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br /> If she’d paused to think about it, she probably could have figured out the safe word thing. But she’d never thought that far into it. She’d watched a few pornos with some kink to get ideas for dirty things to whisper in men’s ears over the phone, but she hadn’t studied the lifestyle in any meaningful way. Though she was pretty sure even if she had that whatever bastardized version of it Anton was using wouldn’t have been very familiar anyway.
“Do you have family?” Annette asked.
“No.”
“Close friends who will miss you?”
“I have a cat.”
“She’ll starve,” Annette said, actually feeling concern about the issue.
“No, she’s a mostly outdoor cat. She’ll survive.”
Brian came outside then with dangerous purpose in his eyes. “You two planning your escape?” he asked, carefully assessing each of them as if he could read minds by staring hard enough.
Phyllis looked guilty, but Annette said, “Not me.”
He slapped a silver metal bracelet around Phyllis’s wrist and then moved closer to the pool to put one on Annette.
“What is that thing?” Annette asked. She backed up a few feet outside his immediate reach. He’d have to get wet to reach her.
“Security. It keeps you on the property, inside the perimeter. If you cross the line… well, you don’t want to cross the line. It’s like a shock collar.”
She was glad she’d moved to the center of the pool. “I’m in the water! And I have to shower.”
“I had them specially made. They’re completely water safe. They don’t react at all to water.”
“How do you know?”
“I buy only the best tech, and I trust my guy. But they’ve also been tested. Submerged for hours. No harm to the bracelet, no zap.”
She was still wary. She didn’t trust the psychopath not to murder her by electrocution just for fun.