Page 19

Delaney

One Week Later

I’m going to lose my goddamn mind if someone doesn’t come in here and talk to me. When we got to that safe house, Sergei spent hours endlessly fucking me. The man must be on drugs because how can he come so many times? He would take a while to chill out and torture me with his fucking hands before going right back at it. I was so exhausted and weak that when we left that I passed out in the SUV. The next thing I know I am tied to a couch on a jet, and we are in the air. I suppose that was a part of the plan all along though. I can’t fight back or run if I’m too fucking exhausted to keep my eyes open. The flight took fucking forever and I stayed tied to the couch unless he took me to the restroom. He fed me by hand, held a drink for me to have water, and even wiped my ass, but he never once spoke to me. If he did, it was to someone else and in Russian.

When the flight landed, I was moved to another SUV and we drove for upwards of four hours before finally stopping at a house on a massive piece of property. I was taken inside and up to the third floor before he locked me in this fucking room. It has a regular bed, a desk with a notebook and a pencil, and a bathroom full of anything I will need. There is a small door at the bottom of the main door where they slide food to me. I refused to eat for the first three days, but then eventually caved when I realized no one was coming in. I am fairly certain they are drugging me, but that could be my paranoia.

I’m counting the days in my notebook and today is day seven. I write letters to Talon because I’m hoping that one day he will get to read it. I suspect that he will just get to read the breakdown of my mind because I feel like the walls are talking to me. I wish I was joking, but I’m not. I hear whispers and laughter, and I know it’s in my head. I thought that once they got to where they were going, I would just be beaten and raped repeatedly, but being secluded from everyone is far worse. I would happily go back to Logan any day to avoid being alone.

Day 7

Talon,

I think the walls are making fun of me. Is that crazy? Of course it’s crazy. I’m so goddamn alone and I miss you so fucking much. I never realized just how much I love you guys until you’re not here for me to tell you. I miss your laugh and the way you guys tease me. I miss waking up in your arms and that way you would cling to me all night for comfort through your nightmares. I never realized that I got just as much comfort from you until I was alone in bed without anyone to hold me.

I’m trying so hard to hold on to to hope, but I just want to jump out of the fucking window. It’s not even locked. I wonder if that’s intentional? I just want peace and I’m so fucking afraid that I’m going to find it when he breaks me. I will do just about anything for some kind of human contact, even if it’s just violence.

I don’t know how I’m going to come back from this if you do find me, but I mostly hope that you find happiness without me. You don’t deserve the stress of having to search the world for me. I pray that all of you find a woman that you can collectively love and cherish as much as you did to me. I want you to move on because maybe this will hurt less if I know that you have found the way to live without me.

That is the thing, though. I know you. I know you are devastated, confused, angry, and sad. I know you are so fucking sad that you don’t know how to function. I know that Jude, Adam, Tony, and Chris are carrying you through this and trying to give you hope. They are truly fucking angels, and I know they will get you through this. I don’t know if you will ever get to read the things that I’m writing to you, but if you have given up, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay, and I still love you. I will always love you, no matter what this bastard does to me. No matter how much he breaks me, some part of my mind will still remember just how fucking happy you make me.

Forever,

your Little Flower

I close the notebook and sit back in my seat at the desk. Maybe I should get dressed and I will feel better. The closet is full of clothing that I can wear, but I just keep wearing the same thing. I found a T-shirt that reminds me of Talon, and I wear it. I can smell myself, and I know that I am desperately in need of a shower. I have a sneaking suspicion that if Sergei comes in here and I smell like ass then I will get the shit beaten out of me for it.

A shower does sound nice. I can burn myself to death with the water. I manage to stand up at the thought of being able to cause myself pain and go to the bathroom. I turned the water on as hot as it’ll go, but step in while it’s still cold. The icy water shocks my system. As the warmth floods over me, I’m able to relax a little bit. The water turns scolding and I’m lulled. I take a moment to quickly wash my body thoroughly as well as shampooing and conditioning my hair. I feel so much better now that I’m clean. This allows me to stand under the water and close my eyes. With the near boiling water raining down on me, I can think about my men without it hurting so badly. Eventually, the water turns cold, and I shut it off. Reality sneaks back in as I dry off and dress in clean clothes. I chose a simple tank top and pajama pants because it’s comfortable. I’m not putting on fucking jeans while stuck in this room. There’s no fucking point to it.

I step out of the bathroom but stop mid-step when I see Sergei in the doorway. He has his arms crossed over his chest and he looks calm. “Hello, Kukla,” he says simply.

“Uh. Hi,” I say.

“Grab your notebook and come on,” he says. I feel like a fucking idiot for how happy that makes me. I don’t care what he does to me or why. I just need out of this room. “Excited?”

“Yeah… I don’t do well alone,” I say. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that because now he will punish me that way.

“No one does, Kukla,” he says. “You’ll join me for lunch.”

“Okay,” I sigh. He abruptly turns and grabs me by the throat so that he can push me back against the wall and lift me up until my feet are not touching the ground.

“That is Master to you. I am your master, Kukla, and you are my slave,” he growls. I nod rapidly and he drops me to the ground. I put my hands on my throat as I cough and sputter as I try to catch my breath. “Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” I choke out.

“Good girl. Come on,” he says as he walks away. I hurry and catch up to him, still feeling stupid. We go into another room, and I can tell right away that it’s the master bedroom. He turns and pushes me back on the bed and slowly pulls my pants off, daring me with his gaze to fight. I start to tear up, but I don’t say anything. I am frozen in fear because I know he is capable of violence. He snaps so fast when I upset him. I don’t know why I don’t want him to kill me, because I don’t want to be alive. I should have jumped out of the fucking window. For seven days, I just wanted someone, anyone, to talk to me. Now, I would love nothing more than to go back into that room.

Sergei spreads my legs wide and keeps his eyes on mine as he dips his head and flicks his tongue across my clit. I snap my eyes closed because I don’t want to see who is between my legs right now. I scream when he suddenly bites down on my clit and doesn’t let go. Instinctively, I start fighting. The very moment I raise my hand, he grabs my wrist and stops me. “This is your only warning. You ever hit me, I’ll cut your fucking hands off and feed them to you for dinner,” he growls at me. “You keep your eyes on your master when he touches you. I want you to see who is making this tight little cunt weep, understand?”

“Yes, Master,” I sniffle.

“Good girl. Now, relax and watch your master play,” he says, suddenly calm again. Sergei pushes two fingers into me and curls them before he starts flicking his tongue across my clit again. I expected to be tortured, but sexual torture is new, and I’d rather get punched in the face than watch him eat me out. He adds a third finger and starts fucking me with his hand, coaxing up forced pleasure. I am nearly panting by the time the feeling starts to surface. Just as it is about to break free, he stops.

I groan and relax into the bed, hoping he got what he wants. I know he didn’t. There is no reprieve in hell because he starts back up by lightly sucking my clit, making my hips buck against his mouth on accident. He groans against my pussy and the vibration alone almost sends me over again, but he stops. When he starts again, he keeps the same pace. Every time an orgasm starts to surface, he stops. The pressure is intense and it painful to be edged like this.

“Please stop,” I cry. “Please.”

“Beg your master to come, Kukla,” he mutters before sucking hard on my clit and hitting something inside of me that makes my eyes roll back. When it all starts to build up, it feels like fire in my belly. He isn’t going to stop and it’s getting increasingly more painful.

“Fuck,” I scream when he stops again.

“Beg me, Kukla. The way out is simple,” he says, starting back again.

“God, I can’t,” I cry. “I can’t. I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

“You’ll learn,” he says as he pulls away. “I am not stopping until you beg for it, Kukla,” he says softly, still fucking me hard with his hand.

“Why?” I whimper. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I own you, Kukla. Now beg me before I lose my patience,” he commands.

“Okay,” I whisper. “Please.”

“Beg me, Kukla!” he screams at me.

“Please make me come, Master,” I say through my tears.

“More,” he says before flicking his tongue over my clit, making my body jerk.

“Please, Master, please make me come,” I beg, absolutely disgusted with myself.

“Good girl, Kukla,” he says before suddenly rolling us. He bands his arms around my thighs and forces me to sit on his face as he viciously sucks my clit. Everything is happening so fast that the moan he pulls out of me is loud and before I know it, I am involuntarily rocking my hips, desperate for him to stop. If I come, he stops. At least that’s what I am telling myself. A week ago, I couldn’t imagine doing this, but now? Now, I just want to come so he will stop.

“Oh my… Fuuuck,” I moan as I grind myself against his face. He is sucking and biting my clit, pulling by far the ickiest feeling orgasm out of me.

“That’s my sweet Kukla,” he groans as he pulls me down and thrusts into me from below, quickly filling me with his dick. He has my arms crossed over my chest, so when he lifts his hips and starts to fuck me insanely hard and fast, I have no escape from the aggression. All I can do is lie here and take it as the orgasms punch through me, chipping away at my sanity.