I felt the cool silk sheets under my naked form, caressing my skin like a lover’s fingers. Opening my eyes, I found myself in a poorly lit room, the naked light bulb swinging gently over my head. A sudden draft caused goose bumps to break out over my body and I reached for the comforter, only to find that I couldn’t move my hands. It was then that I realized my arms were stretched above my head, the chafing of the zip tie tight on my wrist.
Oh God. What had happened? Who had me, and what did they want?
Awareness pricked my mind as I tried to find something about the room that looked familiar, but there was nothing.
I didn’t know where I was.
Fear clenched in my stomach as I tried to pull my wrists away from the zip tie, hoping that the force would snap the plastic in two. All I succeeded in doing was having it bite into my tender skin and I winced, releasing the pressure for now.
“Help!” I screamed, my voice bouncing off the silent walls. “Somebody help me!”
A door opened from within the room, and I heard footsteps that matched the rapid beating of my heart. “Please,” I said, trying to keep my wits about me. “Please, I don’t know why I’m here.”
“No one is coming to help you.”
“Gavril?” I asked, some of my fear easing. “Oh God, what has happened? Why am I tied to this bed?”
His handsome face peered over the bed, and I gasped at the coldness in his eyes. “It will benefit you to do as I ask,” he growled, no warmth to his tone. “This is your life now.”
“Please,” I whispered, confused as to why he was treating me this way. I was carrying his child. I had done everything he had asked me to do.
He had no reason to treat me with such coldness.
“There’s no reason for you to beg,” he continued as his hands reached for the front of his trousers. “As long as you do what I want, I will not harm you.”
His words were making no sense whatsoever and I watched, terrified, as he unbuckled his pants and pushed the waistband down over his lean hips, exposing his hard cock. A flush of heat still shot through me as I stared at his destructive, beautiful self.
“Gavril.”
“You will address me as Pakhan,” he shot back, his eyes flashing. “I don’t know where you heard that name, but it is not yours to use. I am your master now.”
Then it hit me. I wasn’t Gavril’s wife at all. I wasn’t Sveta. Dawning horror bloomed in my chest as he rose up above me, his hand on his cock, stroking it in the way that I knew he loved to be stroked.
“Spread those legs,” he growled, his eyes roving over my form with some disinterest.
I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks. I was one of those women from the docks. Now I could see the difference in my body versus what I normally looked like. Hunger gnawed at my ribs. I remembered that I hadn’t eaten in quite a while. When my tongue licked my lips, there was a burn on my lower lip, a cut that I hadn’t felt until now.
And my throat was dry. So dry.
His large hands suddenly grabbed my knees and pried them apart to give him full access to my lower half. I wanted to fight him, to kick out against his touch, but a piece of me was well aware of the heat building in my lower gut.
His cock probed my entrance. I shook my head and shrieked in pain as he buried himself to the hilt.
I woke in a rush, sitting up so fast that my stomach lurched with the movement and I had to swallow a few times so as not to puke all over myself. For a moment, I was still in that room, still in the body of the woman Gavril was about to rape. Fear clenched my hammering heart.
Gradually, the room came into view and I realized I was in my bedroom, the shaft of moonlight illuminating the space enough for me to make out the outlines of the familiar surroundings.
It was a horrible nightmare I had just gone through.
A quick look next to me told me that the bed was empty, though Gavril had been there when I had fallen asleep, exhausted from a bout of sex that had left me breathless, raw, and sated. I was slowly losing more and more of myself to him.
Like I hadn’t already.
Even with everything going on between us, with the conflicted feelings I had for him and for what he had done, I couldn’t deny him anything.
More accurately, my body craved his touch.
Blowing out a breath, I moved my legs, realizing that my lace panties were soaking wet. Had I really been turned on by that dream? Gavril had been rough with me, almost emotionless. And yet I craved it. When he had climbed atop of me last night, a deep, animal part of me wanted him to hold me down.
It wanted him to use me.
It wanted him to rape me.
It didn’t make sense. Ever since my college days, I felt like I had to have easy, consensual sex that would stave off the fears in the bedroom that Jon had brought on.
But this dream—no, this nightmare—had brought something more, something I didn’t understand. And I was ashamed of the way I had reacted.
I needed to find Gavril.
Throwing aside the heavy comforter, I pulled on one of Gavril’s shirts that was on the floor and walked out of my bedroom, searching for my husband. I wanted to test this feeling, to see if I could withstand more in the bedroom. This had nothing to do with my pregnancy or how I felt about what I had realized what Gavril was doing with his business.
This was about me.
I found Gavril in my study, seated on the leather sofa with a drink in his hand. His hair was tousled sexily, as if he had been running his hand through it, and he was shirtless, only wearing a pair of joggers on his powerful legs.
Even his feet were bare, and I wanted to burst into laughter at the sight of a powerful, dangerous man barefoot.
“Sveta,” he said softly, his eyes watching my every move. “What are you doing up?”
Even the false name didn’t bother me as I approached him. “Why are you down here?”
He arched a brow before swallowing. “I couldn’t sleep.”
That was interesting. Gavril had never answered my question directly, and now that he had said it, I could see the exhaustion lining his face.
“What do you need, Sveta?” he asked tiredly.
“I need you to fuck me,” I blurted out, watching as surprise flickered over his face. “Please.”
Gavril set the drink on the table next to him. “What has happened?” he asked.
I shook my head and straddled him, feeling his cock bump along the soaking wet center of me. “Please,” I begged, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Just fuck me.”
I had to prove this. I had to test this.