Yury stared at me, his mouth slightly parted. He didn’t ask me to stop, but he said, “A woman kissed me once.” My finger touched his lips as I wondered if he loved her. “No one had ever kissed me before.”
My brows pinched. “But you have sex with women all the time.”
His blue eyes saddened. “Kissing is not sex. It is affection. Who here would want to give any of us affection?”
That was the first time Yury had ever admitted to his career choice being a disturbed one. I wanted to reward him for his honesty. Ever so slowly, to be sure I wouldn’t get in trouble, I leaned forward, not breaking eye contact, and pressed my lips to his.
Yury’s eyes drifted shut.
After I slowly pulled away, his eyes opened. “I never knew being burned by fire could feel so good.”
In the hallway, I shivered, my bare feet protesting the cold concrete. Noticing a couple of men in jackets, my heart cracked wide open. Such an unexpected response to seeing someone experience warmth, but there I stood, in shock, trying to swallow the cry that escaped me. Yury quickly ushered me back into the room.
Shutting the door, his face was full of concern. “What is it?”
My shoulders bounced through more tears. “What season are we in?”
Starting to understand me being upset, he sighed. “It is winter.”
I had missed all of summer and fall. “I haven’t seen the sun…” I covered my mouth to compose myself. When that didn’t work, I wrapped my arms around myself. “Yury, I’m so tired.” Tears dripped from my eyes. “I’m so cold, from the inside out.”
I was too exhausted to realize all this time passing meant something else.
Yury studied me. I could practically see his mind racing through thoughts. He finally said, “No training today.” I stared at him as if he were a god. Smiling, his arms wrapped around my waist, tugging me close. Chest to stomach, he whispered, “I have you.” He reached in his pocket and held up his hand. “Look. I have you.”
In his palm was a red rhinestone leash.
I was officially being claimed.
Yury had decided to keep me.
Was it pathetic to be overjoyed? I don’t believe so. I was in such a hostile environment, against all human rights, that his illegal purchase of my body was a fantastic option. This leash meant I would only be raped by one, and I would have a chance to outlive the ruler who stole me. That meant, if God was willing, I would someday see Link again. My best friend would most likely be married with children by then, but at least he would be free, and so would I.
And I wouldn’t have failed him like I did his brother.
“Do you still want to see Link?”
I internally cringed in fear of being tricked. Did I dare answer honestly? “But I haven’t earned it.”
Yury released me as his eyes lit with pride. “This is true. And I am offering you this.” He held up the leash again. “You could always dance for me.”
“But I do that often.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Not like this.”
Standing on top of the drain, I wished it would open up and swallow me because he was asking for an actual lap dance. There were no bodyguards like at a strip club. I was on my own to reap whatever desire this contact would evoke.
“Come to me, Fire. I need to feel you.”
Straddling his thighs, we stared at each other. I was nervous how far he would want me to go. As it turned out, that dance changed everything…
He knew my body better than I did. Yury knew how to make it react, whether my heart was willing or not. As the heat level rose, Yury had difficulties containing his sexual desires. He gripped my hips tightly while scanning the room as if realizing where he was. Breathlessly, he groaned, “Not here.”
My body was damp with sweat, so the cold air in the hallway was brutal. No comments were made as I was quickly guided down the hallway by my leash and proud new owner who was extremely pent up and anxious to have me elsewhere. I followed Yury, wondering where he was taking me and how I would survive what he was going to do with me when we got there. There was no more avoiding sex. Yury’s big shoulders were almost hunched in an aggressive manner as if preparing to protect what he had claimed. Me.
Fearful of the looming danger Yury seemed to be preparing for, I followed him up an enclosed staircase. Peering behind me, my suspicions were confirmed. I had been in a basement. Through the locked door at the top, I was bewildered to enter the foyer of a mansion. It was all white and bright. Sun bleeding through the windows had me wincing and covering my face.
Before my eyes could adjust, a man was suddenly yelling in Russian. I instantly remembered his voice. Time picked up speed as he got louder and suddenly had a hold of my hair. I quickly forced my eyes to open so I could protect myself, but there was no need. Yury had him by the throat and yanked him off me. The older man, who had been screaming in a rage the first time he saw me, was now wide-eyed and red-faced as Yury pushed him backwards into a wall by the front door. Yury was ranting in Russian while four other men appeared and gathered around me. I screamed as one took a hold of me.
Yury spun on his dress shoes and charged.
The young man instantly let me go and backed away, but his judgment time had arrived. Whatever war of leadership was happening that day, the man who had grabbed me picked the wrong side. Yury pulled a gun from the back of his pants, one I never knew was there, and shot a bullet. It landed perfectly between two shell-shocked eyes. The young man hit the ground.
My mouth opened as my lungs prepared to shriek at the gory sight, but Master demanded, “Kneel!” Instantly, I dropped to the floor next to grand marble stairs that promised luxury above, relieved to have him take charge of my hysterics before they took over.
Master waved the gun around as he roared in Russian. Off and on, he pointed at me then slammed his fist against his chest. He gripped my leash and lifted me from the ground, screaming more Russian. I did my best to balance on my tippy toes as my collar viciously pulled on the back of my neck. Men were nodding, frantically backing away, apologizing for the error of their ways.
When Master let go of my leash, I collapsed back to the floor.
The gun aimed at the older man by the door whose face was swelling with anger, but he said nothing. Master yelled at him, “I am no longer a little boy! I will have what is mine!” To me, he yelled, “Up the stairs!”
Not bothering to get to my feet, I scrambled and crawled as fast as I could to the top of the marble stairs. Master smacked my butt the whole way up, screaming that I was his and that he would be inside me. I kept crying and shrieking at the pain but didn’t say a word. At the top of the stairs, I wasn’t sure where to crawl, yet I was too terrified to stop and get more whacks from the large angry hand.
Master grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me to my feet. In my face, he roared, “You are mine!”
I was about to be taken, by force, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do. My only choice was to try to calm him so the violence would be lessened during intercourse. “Y-Yes, Master.”
He dragged me past two doors, swinging the third one open. It banged against a wall as he threw me to the ground. We were in a bedroom. In front of me was a canopy bed. To my right, there was a private bathroom. To my left, and to my horror, a young girl rushed from what looked to be a dog pillow in a corner of the room and assumed a position I knew well. Red hair hung forward as she stared at the floor, not daring to look the devil in the eye.