Spanking. Throat grabbing. Biting me until he left marks on my body.
The list went on and on. I stepped into the entrance of the garden, the wrought-iron fence pushed open. My thoughts had heat and arousal rising throughout my entire body.
I was sick. There had to be something seriously wrong with me to have this twisted desire and fear of the type of sex I craved. But only with Dmitry, my warped mind whispered.
I could see bags of garbage off to the side, the flower beds recently raked of dead leaves and debris. The final touches of winterizing everything were in full effect.
I walked the tiny cobblestone path, and scents of freshly tilled earth mixed in with the warm afternoon breeze filled my head.
Although it was chilly out—this time of year making a thick layer of frost form on everything early in the morning—it had been unseasonably warm the past week. Something I’d been taking advantage of as I sat outside in the convent grounds and soaked up some vitamin D.
I made a beeline toward a small path that wound its way through the thick line of trees. Although I was in the middle of town, it almost felt like I was deep in the woods when I took this route.
I circled around about half an acre and came out on the other side of the gardens. An older gentleman in a city uniform walked out, another trash bag slung over his shoulder.
He tipped his hat and gave me a polite smile as we passed. All I heard was the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling along the ground as the wind picked up.
I felt alone, that solitude someone found when they were comfortable in their own skin.
After a couple of minutes of walking, I sat down on one bench and pulled out a biscotti. I broke off little pieces and tossed them in front of me, a few goldfinches fluttering down from the treetops to peck at the ground.
As hard as I tried to not think about Dmitry, it was no use.
A part of me didn’t want to push the idea of him away. But another part said I was better off without him.
It didn’t matter what he’d said in the last letter he sent me, about how he wanted to see more of my pictures, about how he wanted me to be a good girl.
I could only imagine how sexually frustrating it was for a man to be locked up for five years. I’d teased him, edged him with those pictures, however inadvertently.
I thought having no contact with Dmitry for six months would have dimmed this infatuation I had for him. I assumed it would have had it dissipating until there was nothing there any longer.
How wrong I’d been.
It was still stronger than ever, as if I were still communicating with him, as if he’d just sent me a letter telling me he loved the pictures I sent and wanted more.
After tossing a few more crumbs of biscotti to the ground, I blew out a slow breath. But then I felt that familiar tightening along my skin, and every muscle in my body became ultrasensitive.
I glanced around and, of course, didn’t see anything or anyone. I slowly stood and curled my fingers around the paper bag that held the other biscotti.
I might have seen no one, but I knew I wasn’t alone.
I stilled and felt my skin tightening, the very roots of my hair on the top of my head tingling.
A bird scattered above, as if something dangerous frightened it. Although I assumed I was alone, I knew I wasn’t.
I could feel someone close by. Watching me. And when I turned around, my breath caught, my heart dropped to my belly, and I felt my jaw go slack.
All because the man standing in front of me was supposed to be in prison.
Dmitry.
Yet here he was, staring at me as if he’d been starved for years to get one glimpse of me, like I was the only thing he wanted to devour.
My mouth was dry, my heart racing. I felt this weird fear, not the kind that told me I needed to get away from Dmitry. It wasn’t the type of fear that was bone-deep. It was the kind that gave me an adrenaline rush.
“When did you get out?” My voice was so low I didn’t even know for sure if I’d said the words out loud.
But when he made a gruff sound deep in his throat, I knew that was the only answer he’d provide.
“Does Gio know you’re here?” I whispered. He shook his head and took a step forward. I took one back. “My brother will kill you if he finds out.”
Dmitry smirked and kept advancing.
“I don’t care who your brother is or what he’s capable of.”