Dubious Read online

  “I was working.”

  “Doing what?”

  I clear my throat. “Maid.”

  “Maid or whore?”

  “Kris, please.”

  “Val, you’re worth more than that.”

  “I’m doing what I have to.” A sudden wave of tiredness washes over me. “Can you please keep Charlie until the weekend? It’s a lot to ask, but I’ve got no other options. I’ll come visit on Saturday, and we can talk.”

  “Okay.” She gives a relieved laugh. “I thought you’re a prisoner or something.”

  “Can I say hello to Charlie?”

  “Of course. Hold on.”

  She calls my brother’s name. A second later his sweet voice comes onto the line.

  “Va–Val?”

  “Hey, how are you doing?”

  “Bu–burgers.”

  “Kris made burgers?”

  “Ye–yeah.”

  “You’re going to stay with Kris for a while. I have a new job, and it requires that I stay in.”

  “Wi–will you vi–visit?”

  “Every week.”

  “Whe–when?”

  “Saturday.”

  “Sa–Saturday.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing. I’m going to take care of you.”

  “Ta–take care.”

  “I’ll see you on Saturday, okay?”

  “Sa–Saturday.”

  “I love you, and remember to be brave.”

  “Lo–love you, to–too.”

  I hang up and stare at the phone for several seconds, battling to process how quickly our lives have changed. It’s no use crying over things I can’t change. I’ve gotten through bad situations before. I can get through this.

  Exhausted, I make the bed and have a quick shower. I try not to think about the fact that it’s his water or that I have to sleep in a bed that belongs to him, between his sheets, under his roof. Too weary to dry my hair, I pull on my nightgown and get into bed. My thoughts dwell on Charlie and Puff as my head hits the pillow. I want to say a prayer for them, but I’m so tired I fall asleep halfway into it, only to be jerked awake to a familiar and threatening presence in the room.

  3

  Gabriel

  My new toy wakes with a soundless gasp. Purposefully, I let her fall asleep first. Disorientated, her defenses will be down. It makes it easier to see the truth. For the moment, the only truth is the fear in her eyes.

  It’s not so easy to see the truth in myself, because I don’t know what I feel, except for the physical. Her intoxicating smell dominated my dining room and hardened my cock. I don’t know what it is about her that brings out my lust. I only know I want her like I’ve never wanted a woman.

  Straightening from the doorframe, I prowl to the edge of the bed. She watches me with her big, murky eyes, her chest rising and falling to the rhythm of my steps. Gripping the sheet, I pull it down slowly. She clings to the fabric, but after a second she lets go, surrendering to the inevitable.

  It’s the chase. That’s what I want to tell myself. It’s not that I need to lie to myself. It’s just hard to find the truth in the fucked-up slush I call my heart. Maybe I simply want the things I glimpsed in her, the bravery and the love that made her strong enough to take this–– what’s happening right now––and nine more years of it for the sake of her brother.

  My mind tends to be overactive. It rarely shuts down, not even in sleep, but all of my logical thoughts still as I stare down at her body. She’s laid out stiff and straight on the white sheet, her hair fanning over the pillow. I reach for the button of my collar. As it pops through the buttonhole, she gulps. Her fingers dig into the sheet. If her body tenses any more, she’s going to snap like a twig.

  I’m many things, including a killer. I know I’m a scary son of a bitch. I own mirrors, and I’m not afraid to look in them. I see what she sees in her eyes. They’re wide and moist in the light that falls from the scullery. The room isn’t cold, but she shivers in her nightgown. Inexplicably, this touches me. The women I usually fuck don’t shiver. To soften it for her, I turn the scarred side of my face away when I switch on the light of her room.

  With the sheet discarded at her feet, I take the hem of her nightgown and move it up over her body, exposing her thighs, cotton panties, and her full breasts that, like her eyes, are too big for her body. She’s perfect. Her calves are toned and her ankles tapered. I can see her pubic bone beneath the humble fabric of her underwear, and even the sight of the simple cotton hardens my cock. Careful to tamper my lust down a notch, I take my time to study the swell of her stomach and the way her breasts slightly flattens to the sides. Her nipples are a dark pink, exactly like I prefer. For the moment, those peaks aren’t contracted, but I know how to remedy that, despite her fear. I’ve had enough partners to accurately read a woman’s body and give her what she needs.

  To ease the tightness in my chest, I undo two more buttons, letting the cool air wash down my torso. When I climb onto the foot of the bed, the first sound leaves Valentina’s lips. It’s something between a sob and a gasp. I much rather prefer a moan. I fold my hands around her narrow feet. She jerks as if I shocked her with a stun gun. Slowly, I run my hands up her legs, over her hips, and up her ribs. Goosebumps break out over her skin. Careful not to touch any erogenous zones, I reverse the path, keeping the touch light. My cock twitches in the constraints of my pants, pushing painfully against my zipper, but this isn’t about me. It’s about setting her at ease and bringing her pleasure. After a long time of stroking her like this, she’s still incompliant, but her muscles are less tense. With each caress, I move closer and closer to her breasts, until my fingertips skim inches away from her nipples. Even as they finally contract for me with the tips turning into little pebbles, she fights it, pursing her lips almost as hard as she’s squeezing her knees together. She’s holding back, watching my every action, trying to contemplate my next move instead of giving over to the feeling.

  “Close your eyes, Valentina.”

  “Are you going to rape me?”

  I chuckle. “No.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “Getting to know your body.”

  “You’re not going to fuck me?”

  “Eventually, yes. When you beg me.”

  Her eyes glisten like cold tiger eye gemstones. “That will never happen.”

  “You talk too much. Close your eyes and shut your mouth, or I’ll be forced to blindfold and gag you.”

  My words have the desired effect. She seals her lips and pinches her eyes shut. I retrace my movements, starting a slow rub from her feet to the underside of her arms. After a few minutes of stroking her like this, a flush spreads over her skin, marring her neck and the upper curve of her breasts. The erogenous zones of her body will be filling with blood, making her breasts heavy and her sex swollen, preparing her for penetration. This is the cue I’ve been waiting for. Drawing circles around her hardening breasts, I close the spiraling trace of my fingers until I’m outlying her areolas. I watch her nipples tighten more, extending into kissable pinnacles I ache to feel on my tongue. Ignoring the hunger that makes my balls draw tight, I roll her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers and am rewarded with a gasp that sounds very different now. There’s a crescendo of pleasure and an undertone of shame. The mixture is an intoxicating sound, one I take perverse pleasure in. I want to own her feelings, her whimpers, her pleasure, and her breaths. Like a signal, her hips lift. I know what her body is asking for, and I know she’ll fight it. I need total surrender.

  Letting go of her pretty tits, I wrap one hand around her neck, applying gentle pressure. The touch is both dominating and protective, and the way she reacts to it will tell me everything I need to know about how to make her happy in bed. To my surprise, her head lifts slightly, pressing her neck harder into my palm. Valentina is a natural submissive. My favorite kind of conquest.

  Keeping my hand in place, I reward her with a kiss on each nipple. Her lips part on
a soundless moan, and her eyes fly open. She blinks at me in surprise. She either expected me to bite her, or she’s battling to process the sensation. Holding her gaze, I flick my tongue over her right breast, sucking the delicious nipple deep into my mouth. Her back arches off the bed, and a soft cry falls from her lips. At the sound of it, she goes completely still. Instead of fighting her arousal, she lies back like a corpse, her eyes fixed somewhere on the ceiling. Her muscles unclench, going slack under my hands. This won’t do. I won’t let her hide from me in her mind.

  “Look at me.”

  The command is at direct odds with my earlier one, but I’m learning to read and understand her reactions. Of course, she ignores me, wandering around in the void she has created in her head.

  “If you don’t look at me right now, we’re going to start over. This time, we’ll practice in front of the mirror.”

  Slowly, she turns her gaze back in my direction until she’s watching me from under her lashes.

  “Good girl. Keep on watching me and tell me what you feel. If you stop talking, we start from scratch.”

  “What?”

  She furrows her eyebrows, but I don’t give her time for another question. I resume the task of licking her nipple like it’s my favorite candy. When a suppressed moan slips from her lips, I lift my head to give her a hard look.

  “Valentina, I won’t tell you again. How does it feel?”

  She licks her lips, watching me as I lave her breast with my tongue.

  “It feels … hot.” She flushes bright red. “Wet. I mean…”

  “Good?”

  She bites her bottom lip.

  “Carry on.” I move to her other breast.

  “Uh… Soft. Ah! Hard.”

  She cries out as I nip her with my teeth. “Tell me.”

  “Sore. No. Different. I don’t know!”

  I suck her relentlessly, plumping up her breast in my fist and pinching the hard tip with my lips. “Be clearer.”

  “Good! Ah, God. It hurts…good.”

  She pants and squirms. It’s good to have her in the moment with me. I need her to feel, because I get off on her pleasure. I kiss her breasts and fondle her nipples until she’s close to hyperventilating, throwing incoherent words and phrases at me.

  “I’m going to make you come,” I say, “and you can’t stop it.”

  She tenses again, her face a mask of agonized pleasure.

  “Say it,” I urge, pinching her nipple hard.

  She yelps. “Can’t…stop it.”

  “That’s it.” I suck on her nipple. “Let it go.”

  She wiggles. “I–I can’t.”

  “I won’t stop, Valentina. We’ll go all night if we have to, but you’re going to give it to me.”

  She grips my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, and gives a frustrated sob. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”

  “Just lie back and I’ll show you.”

  Her grip on me tightens, and her neck strains up, fear dampening the arousal in her eyes.

  “My cock will stay in my pants. Lie back.”

  Slowly, the muscles in her neck relax as she lays her head back on the pillow. Once more, her body goes soft beneath me, but this time she’s present. There’s no more holding back. Her legs go slack, her thighs parting an inch. The slow, raspy lick of my tongue over her nipple is another reward, strengthening her good behavior. When she lifts her shoulders off the mattress, I almost lose control. I suck her nipple to the back of my mouth, eating her breast like a piece of cake, and she throws the reward right back at me by pushing deeper, forcing me to take more and giving me what I’ve been waiting for. The sweetest whimpers fall on my ears.

  So damn hot. My fingers tighten involuntarily around her neck, applying more pressure, showing us both who she belongs to. There’s no intent to harm, and her subconscious mind knows this. I lave her other breast with the wet strokes of my tongue, giving the plump curve the same meticulous attention as its twin until she squirms in my hold. Loosening my grip on her neck, I let my palm slide down her throat, between her breasts, and over her stomach. Her skin is slick from my kisses, and the wet trail makes her tummy quiver. Keeping my hand on her stomach, I kiss a path to her pubic bone, nuzzling her skin with my nose. The smell of her desire drives me crazy. She’s wet, and the possessive side of me revels in the knowledge that I’m the cause. I’m the master of her desire. I brought her this far. I’ll take her over the edge.

  She seems barely coherent as I hook my fingers in the elastic of her underwear and pull it over her hips and down her legs. I free her ankles and discard the piece of clothing on the floor. She’s turned on enough to take it a level rougher. I push her legs wide open, giving all of my senses access to her deepest core.

  It’s no secret that I love fucking. This is the part of women I love with reverence. I love their delicate folds, their taste, their smell, and the sounds they make when I invade their bodies. Valentina’s cunt is beautiful. Her pussy lips are pink and plump, glistening with arousal. Her clit peeks from between her swollen labia like a pearl. The pucker of her asshole is a rosebud, and the tightness tells me no man has claimed her there. I don’t mind her dark, silky pubic hair, but it has to go. I want to see her bare skin when I part her with my cock. I want to see her peachy lips stretch as wide as they can go when I take her deep, but thinking ahead only fucks with my head and torments my aching dick. I close my eyes and focus on her taste, instead. My tongue sweeps over her slit to the tip of her clit. She jerks violently, a sweet cry bouncing off the walls. Her hands dig into my shoulders, shoving and pulling simultaneously. She stopped talking. The only sounds coming from her lips are the moans I was chasing after.

  “Just feel,” I whisper over her skin. “You have no control, no choice.”

  She relaxes and opens wider, giving me better access. I spear my tongue into her pussy, and groan as her thighs hug my face in a soft vice. Her honey coats my tongue, the taste a powerful aphrodisiac. I could stay with my head buried between her legs forever, but even my patience, the resolve and control I’m so proud of, has limits. I eat her like a starving man, my teeth grazing and nibbling while my lips pinch and suck. Her nails dig into my skin and her heels kick into the mattress. When I lift my eyes, I’m shocked to see she’s staring at me, her brown pools drowsed in desire. Soft, feminine pants and moans lash at me as I suck her harder, feeding my addiction for this, for everything she’s giving me.

  A little surprised cry fills the air, and her hips lock. I know what this means. I push down with my palm on her stomach to measure her body’s reaction, but it’s not necessary. I know exactly at which point she comes. She utters a high note and contracts around my tongue with a tangy explosion of moisture. I want to use her orgasm to drench my cock, to make it slick so I can sink it deep into her body, as deep as she can take me, but for now I only kiss and lick her clit, prolonging the shockwaves and reveling in her release. Despite my earlier resolution, I’m more than ready to fuck her, but something is holding me back. For some reason, I feel like it’s her first time coming. A hot wave of satisfaction and immense anticipation washes over me as I consider the impossible.

  Valentina is a virgin.

  And it fucking crushes me.

  I can’t break something that is whole and pure.

  * * *

  Valentina

  I’m inexperienced, not stupid. I know I had an orgasm, but it was my first and I’m devastatingly sad. Ashamed. I gave in to the man who was going to kill my brother, but those hands on my body… I expected force and roughness. Instead, he gave me gentle. It confused the hell out of me. The way his fingers explored my skin soothed me, and when I gave up on my fear, he set me on fire. He knew exactly what to do. There’s no doubt he’s a skilled and intuitive lover. He touched me like no man ever has, in a way that made my skin come alive. He twisted and primed my body, playing it like an instrument until it gave him the tune he wanted. I thought he was going to rape me. In a way, he
did. In a way, this is worse. He raped my senses, took my defenses, and left me vulnerable, but not yet cold. His arms fold around me, pulling my naked back to his clothed chest. Hot, unwanted tears drip on the pillow.

  I gave in.

  I lost.

  My body betrayed me.

  Big, hard hands, hands that tortured my nipples into aching points of need, brush over my hip. One arm curls under me, strong fingers locking on my breast, while the other strokes my thigh gently as I battle to get my sobbing under control.

  “Shh,” he whispers against my ear. Repeating the same mantra from earlier, he gives me absolution. “You didn’t have a choice.”

  There are many things I can take, but not his gentleness. I need to hate him. Prying his fingers open, I roll to the edge of the bed and jump to my feet.

  “Get away from me.” I jerk my nightgown down my body.

  His eyes harden, but he doesn’t reach for me. With his dark expression on top of the scars, he looks scarier than any man I’ve seen.

  Lifting up on one elbow, he says, “You should’ve told me it was your first time.”

  Why can’t I feel indifferent? Indifference won’t hurt or cut so deep. The ache and betrayal won’t let me go. Using that pain, I mold it into a shield of hatred.

  Loathing infuses my tone. “What difference would it have made?”

  There’s a warning in his voice. “Valentina, I took nothing you didn’t promise to give.”

  “Exactly,” I snap. “I promised to give, not to take.”

  His lips lift in one corner, giving him the same amused expression from this morning when he threatened Charlie’s life. “Give and take, now that’s a debatable subject. The way I look at it, this was all give on your part. I did all the taking.”

  I’m fuming. I expected him to use me, but to do it like Tiny. Instead, he somehow managed to make me a partner in whatever he executed.

  “Are you angry that I made you come or that you enjoyed it?” he asks, hitting the hammer on the nail.

  Shivering with fury, mostly at myself, I wrap my arms around my body. “Is there something else you want? Any other service you require?”