Chapter 9
664 Words
9Yulia
Breathing hard, I lie under Lucas, my heart pounding in the aftermath of the devastation that is s*x with my captor.
Why is it always like this with him, with this difficult, dangerous man who hates me? I’m far from inexperienced. It’s true that I’ve survived s*x at its ugliest, but I’ve also known its more pleasant variations. My second assignment—Vladimir Vashkov, a trim forty-something FSB liaison—prided himself on being a good lover, and he introduced me to real orgasms, teaching me about arousal and pleasure. I thought I was able to handle anything a man could throw at me in bed, but clearly I was wrong.
I can’t handle Lucas Kent.
Maybe it would’ve been better if he had taken me roughly again. Lust—pounding, punishing lust—is what I expected when he reached for me. And it’s what he gave me at first, kissing me by force, using my body’s reaction to override my defenses. I was prepared for that after the last time, but I wasn’t prepared for his gentleness.
I didn’t expect him to treat me like I matter.
“Yulia.” He lifts his head, gazing down on me, and my cheeks heat up as our eyes meet. With the fog of lust receding, I become aware that he’s still deep inside me—and that I’m holding him there, my legs wrapped so tightly around his hips that he can’t move.
My flush intensifying, I unlock my ankles and lower my legs. I also change my grip on his sides to push him away instead of holding on to him. I can’t play Lucas’s game right now. It feels too real.
He leans down to brush a kiss on my lips and then carefully disengages from me. As he pulls out, I feel a warm, sticky wetness between my thighs.
His seed.
He f****d me without a condom after all.
Irrational bitterness seizes me, chasing away the remnants of my post-coital glow.
“You should’ve waited for the blood test,” I say, pulling my shirt down as Lucas pushes away from me and stands up, getting off the couch. Squeezing my legs together, I give him a hard look. “I have AIDS and syphilis, you know.”
“Do you now?” He sounds more amused than worried as he puts away his c**k and zips up his jeans. His eyes gleam as he looks at me. “Anything else? Maybe gonorrhea?”
“No, just herpes and chlamydia.” I smile at him sweetly, propping myself up on one elbow. “But you’ll learn all of that soon, when the test results come back. Now, may I please have a towel or a tissue? I wouldn’t want to soil your nice carpet.”
To my disappointment, he doesn’t rise to my bait. Instead, he laughs and disappears into the kitchen, only to return a second later with a paper towel. “Here you go,” he says, handing it to me. Then he watches with undisguised interest as I sit up and wipe away the wetness on my thighs, doing my best to keep my shirt down as I do so.
“Good job,” he says when I’m done. “Now, are you hungry? I think it’s time for a second breakfast.”
I frown, more than a little frustrated that he’s being so calm. I don’t know why I want to yank at a tiger’s tail, but I do. I hate what he did to me; that impersonal doctor’s examination had been humiliating and dehumanizing. And then to come up with that bullshit excuse about potential internal injuries, as though I couldn’t see straight through him.
As though I don’t know that I’m his s*x doll for as long as he cares to play with me.
“I’m not hungry,” I say, but right away realize I’m lying. My body is desperate for calories after being starved for so long. “Wait, no, actually—”
Before I can finish my sentence, I hear a faint buzzing sound and see Lucas reaching into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, looks at it, and lets out a quiet curse.
“What is it?” I ask, but he’s already grabbing my arm and pulling me off the couch.
“Esguerra needs me,” he says, leading me down the hall. “Use the restroom if you need to, and then I have to tie you up again. We’ll eat when I return.”
And just like that, he’s my unfeeling captor once more.
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