Keep Me (14 page)

As we eat, Julian peppers me with questions about my classes and how my online program is going so far. He seems genuinely interested in what I have to say, and I soon find myself talking to him about my difficulties with Calculus—
has a more boring subject ever been invented?
—and discussing the pros and cons of taking a Humanities course next semester. I’m sure he must find my concerns amusing—after all, it’s just school—but if he does, he doesn’t show it. Instead he makes me feel like I’m talking to a friend, or maybe a trusted advisor.

That’s one of the things that make Julian so irresistible: his ability to listen, to make me feel important to him. I don’t know if he does it on purpose, but there are few things more seductive than having someone’s undivided attention—and I always have that with Julian. I’ve had it since day one. Evil kidnapper or not, he’s always made me feel wanted and desired, like I’m the center of his world.

Like I genuinely matter.

As the dinner continues, Ana’s story plays over and over in my mind, making me viciously glad that Juan Esguerra is dead. How could a father do that to his son? What kind of monster would purposefully try to mold his child into a killer? I picture twelve-year-old Julian standing up to that brute for a defenseless kitten, and I feel an unwitting flash of pride at my husband’s courage. I have a feeling keeping that pet against his father’s wishes had been far from easy.

I’m still nowhere near ready to forgive Julian, but as we make our way through the second course, I consider the possibility that something other than Julian’s stalker tendencies was behind his desire to implant those trackers in me. Could it be that instead of not caring for me, he cares too much? Could his love be that dark and obsessive? That twisted? I’d known, of course, about Maria’s death and that of his parents, but I never put the two events together, never thought of it as Julian losing everyone he’s ever cared about. If Ana is right—if I truly am that special to Julian—then it’s not particularly surprising that he’d go to such lengths to ensure my safety, especially since he almost lost me once.

It’s insane and scary, but not particularly surprising.

“So what was so urgent this morning?” I ask, finishing my second serving of the baked salmon dish Ana prepared as the main course. My appetite is back with a vengeance, all traces of my earlier malaise gone. It’s amazing what even a little bit of Julian’s company does to me; his proximity is better than any mood-boosting drug on the market. “When you couldn’t join me for breakfast, I mean?”

“Oh, yes, I’ve been meaning to tell you about that,” Julian says, and I see a gleam of dark excitement in his eyes. “Peter’s contacts in Moscow got us permission to move in with an operation to extract Majid and the rest of the Al-Quadar fighters from Tajikistan. As soon as we’re ready—hopefully in a week or so—we’ll be making our move.”

“Oh, wow.” I stare at him, both excited and disturbed by the news. “When you say ‘we,’ you mean your men, right?”

“Well, yes.” Julian appears puzzled by my question. “I’m going to take a group of about fifty of our best soldiers and leave the rest to guard the compound.”

“You’re going to go on this operation yourself?” My heart skips a beat as I wait anxiously for his answer.

“Of course.” He looks surprised that I would think otherwise. “I always go on these types of missions myself if I can. Besides, I have some business in Ukraine that’s best handled in person, so I’ll deal with that on the way back.”

“Julian . . .” I feel sick all of a sudden, all the food I’ve eaten sitting in my stomach like a rock. “This sounds really dangerous . . . Why do you have to go?”

“Dangerous?” He laughs softly. “Are you worried about me, my pet? I can assure you, there’s no need. The enemy is going to be outnumbered and outgunned. They don’t stand a chance, believe me.”

“You don’t know that! What if they set off a bomb or something?” My voice rises as I remember the horror of the warehouse explosion. “What if they trick you in some way? You know they want to kill you—”

“Well, technically, they want to force me to give them the explosive,” he corrects me, a dark smile curving his lips, “and
then
they want to kill me. But you have nothing to worry about, baby. We’ll scan their quarters for any signs of bombs before we go in, and we’ll all be wearing full-body armor that can withstand all but a rocket blast.”

I push my plate away, not the least bit reassured. “So let me get this straight . . . You’re forcing me to wear trackers here, where nobody can touch a single hair on my head, and you’re planning to traipse off to Tajikistan to play ‘capture the terrorist’?”

Julian’s smile disappears, his expression hardening. “I’m not playing, Nora. Al-Quadar represents a very real threat, and it’s one that I need to eliminate as quickly as possible. We need to strike at them before they come after us, and this is the perfect opportunity to do that.”

I glare at him, the sheer unfairness of the whole thing making my blood pressure rise. “But why do you have to go in person? You have all these soldiers and mercenaries at your command—surely they don’t need you there—”

“Nora . . .” His voice is gentle, but his eyes are hard and cold, like icicles. “This is not up for debate. The day I start fearing my own shadow is the day I need to leave this business for good—because it will mean that I have grown soft. Soft and lazy, like the man whose factory I took when I was first starting out . . .” He smiles again at my look of shock. “Oh, yes, my pet, how do you think I switched from drugs to weapons? I took over someone’s existing operation and built on it. My predecessor also had soldiers and mercenaries at his command, but he was little more than a glorified paper pusher and everyone knew it. He didn’t keep tight reins on his organization, and it was a simple matter to bribe a few people and overthrow him, taking his rocket factory for my own.” Julian pauses to let me digest that for a second, then adds, “I’m not going to be that man, Nora. This mission is important to me, and I have every intention of overseeing it myself. Majid will not survive this time—I will make sure of that.”

After dinner is over, I lead Nora to our bedroom, my hand resting on the small of her back as we walk up the stairs. She’s quiet, like she’s been ever since I explained to her about the upcoming mission, and I know that she’s still upset with me, both about the trackers and the trip itself.

I find her concern touching, even sweet, but I have no intention of passing up this opportunity to lay my hands on Majid. My pet doesn’t understand the dark thrill of being in the middle of action, of feeling the jolt of adrenaline and hearing the whizzing of bullets. She doesn’t realize that to someone like me the sight of blood and the sound of my enemies’ screams are a turn-on, that I crave them almost as much as sex. This trait of mine is why one shrink thought I might be borderline sociopathic . . . well, this and my general lack of remorse. It’s a label that’s never particularly bothered me—at least not once I got past my youthful delusion that I could someday lead a ‘normal’ life.

As we enter the bedroom, the hunger that I’ve been restraining since yesterday intensifies, the monster inside me demanding his due. The distance I’m sensing from Nora only makes it worse. I can feel the barriers she’s trying to erect between us, the way she’s trying to shut me out of her thoughts, and it maddens me, feeding the sadistic yearning coiling within.

I am going to smash those barriers tonight. I am going to tear them down until she has no defenses left—until I own her mind fully again.

She excuses herself to go take a quick shower, and I let her, walking over to the bed to wait for her return. I am already semi-hard, my cock stirring in anticipation of what I’m going to do to her, and my pants are starting to feel uncomfortably tight. Hearing the water turn on, I undress, then reach into the bedside drawer and pull out an assortment of tools I plan to use on her tonight.

True to her word, Nora doesn’t take long. Five minutes, and she’s coming out of the bathroom, a plush white towel wrapped around her petite body. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and her golden skin is damp, droplets of water still clinging to her neck and shoulders. She must’ve taken off the Band-Aids in order to shower, because I can see a tiny scab and some bruising on her arm where the tracker went in. The sight of it fills me with an odd mixture of emotions—relief that I can now always keep an eye on her and something that tastes strangely like regret.

Her gaze flicks toward the bed, and she stops dead in her tracks, her eyes widening as she takes in the objects I laid out.

I smile, enjoying the startled expression on her face. We haven’t played with toys in a while—at least not to this extent. “Drop the towel and get on the bed,” I command, getting up and reaching for the blindfold.

She looks up at me, her lips parted and her skin softly flushed, and I know that she’s excited by this too—that her needs now mirror mine. There’s only a hint of hesitation in her movements as she unwraps the towel and lets it fall to the floor, leaving her standing there fully naked.

As I feast my eyes on her slim, shapely body, my balls tighten and my heartbeat picks up. Rationally I know there must be women more beautiful than Nora out there, but if there are, I can’t think of any. From the top of her head down to her dainty toes, she fits my preferences to a tee. My body craves her with an intensity that seems to be growing stronger every day, with a desperation that almost consumes me.

She climbs onto the bed, getting into a kneeling position with her feet tucked underneath her tight, round ass. Her movements are fluid and graceful, like those of a sleek little cat.

Getting on my knees behind her, I move her hair off her shoulder and gently kiss her neck, enjoying the way her breathing changes in response. She smells like warm female skin and flower-scented body wash, a mixture that makes my head spin and my dick throb with need. Some nights this is all I want from her—the sweetness of her response, the feel of her in my arms. Some nights I want to treat her like the fragile, breakable creature she is.

Tonight, however, I want something different.

Pulling back, I tie the blindfold around her eyes, making sure she can’t see anything. I want her to focus solely on the sensations she’ll be experiencing, to feel everything as acutely as possible. Next, I pick up a pair of padded handcuffs and snap them around her wrists, securing her hands behind her back.

“Um, Julian . . .” Her tongue comes out to moisten her lower lip. “What are you going to do to me?”

I smile, the tiny hint of fear in her voice turning me on even more. “What do you think I’m going to do to you, my pet?”

“Flog me?” she guesses, her voice low and a bit husky. I can see her nipples growing taut as she speaks, and I know the idea is not exactly repellent to her.

“No, baby,” I murmur, reaching for one of the other items I have prepared—a pair of nipple clamps connected by a thin metal chain. “You’re not healed enough for that yet. I have other things in mind for you today.” And picking up the clamps, I wrap my arms around her from the back and pinch her left nipple between my fingers. Then I apply one of the clamps to the hard bud, tightening the screw until her breath hisses out between her teeth.

“How does it feel?” I ask softly, leaning down to kiss the top of her ear as I reach for her right nipple. Her bound hands, curled tightly into fists, press into my stomach, reminding me of her helplessness. “I want to hear you describe it . . .”

She draws in a shuddering breath, her chest heaving. “It hurts—” she begins to say, then cries out sharply as I apply the second clamp to her nipple and tighten it the same way.

“Good . . .” I lightly bite her earlobe. My erection brushes against her lower back, the contact sending vibrations of pleasure down to my balls. “And now?”

“It—it hurts even more . . .” Her words come out in a ragged whisper. Her back is tense against me, and I know that she’s telling the truth, that her sensitive nipples are likely in agony from the vicious bite of the toy. I’ve used nipple clamps on her before, on the island, but those were a gentler version, capable of applying only light pressure. These are much more hardcore, and I smile darkly as I imagine how much they’ll hurt when they come off.

Cupping the undersides of her breasts with my hands, I squeeze them lightly, molding the soft flesh with my fingers. “Yes, it hurts, doesn’t it?” I murmur as she jerks in pain, the movement of my hands pulling on the chain between her nipples. “My poor baby, so sweet, yet so abused . . .”

Releasing her breasts, I run my hand down her smooth, flat stomach until I reach the soft folds between her legs. As I had suspected, despite the pain—or more likely, because of it—she’s soaking wet, her pussy already liquid with need. My cock throbs in response. The sight of her restrained, with her delicate nipples clamped and hurting, appeals to me in a way that my old shrink would’ve undoubtedly found disturbing. Doing my best to control my hunger, I touch her small clit with my thumb, pressing on it lightly, and she moans, leaning back against my chest, her hips lifting up in a silent plea for more.

“Tell me what you’re feeling now.” I deliberately keep the pressure on her clit feather-light. “Tell me, Nora.”

“I . . . I don’t know . . .”

“Tell me how those little nipples feel. I want to hear you say it.” I accompany the demand with a firm pinch of her clit, causing her to cry out and buck against me from the sudden pain.

“They—they still hurt,” she gasps when she recovers, “but it’s different now, less sharp and more like a steady throb . . .”

“Good girl . . .” I stroke her swollen clit gently as a reward. “And what does it feel like when I touch you like this?”

Her small pink tongue comes out again, flicking over her bottom lip. “It feels good,” she whispers, “really good . . . Please, Julian . . .”

“Please what?” I prod, wanting to hear her beg. She has the perfect voice for begging, sweet and innocently sexy. Her pleading affects me in a way that’s just the opposite of what she intends—it makes me want to torment her more.

“Please touch me . . .” She lifts her hips again, trying to intensify the pressure on her sex.

“Touch you where?” I move my hand, depriving her of my touch altogether. “Tell me exactly where you want me to touch you, my pet.”

“My . . . my clit . . .” The words come out on a breathless moan. I can see the sheen of sweat on her forehead, and I know that my torture is having an effect on her, that the sensations she’s feeling are as intense as I intended.

“All right, baby.” I touch her again, pressing my fingers into her slick folds to stimulate the bundle of nerves with light, even strokes. “Like that?”

“Yes.” She’s breathing faster now, her chest rising and falling as her orgasm approaches. “Yes, just like that . . .” Her voice trails off, her body tightening like a string, and then she cries out, jerking in my arms as she reaches her peak. I hold her through it, keeping the pressure on her clit steady until her contractions abate, and then I reach for another item I have prepared.

It’s a dildo this time, one that’s roughly the size of my own dick. Made of a special blend of silicone and plastic, it’s designed to imitate the feel of human flesh, right down to the skin-like texture on the outside. It’s as close as I will let Nora get to experiencing another man’s cock.

Holding her against me with one arm, I bring the dildo to her sex and position the broad head at her slick, quivering opening. “Tell me what you’re feeling now,” I order her, and begin to push the object in.

She gasps, her breathing quickening again, and I feel her squirming as the large toy slowly enters her pussy. Her fingers clench and unclench against my stomach in an agitated tempo, her nails scratching my skin. “I—I don’t . . .”

“You don’t what?” My tone sharpens as her sentence trails off. “Tell me how it feels to you.”

“It feels . . . thick and hard.” The tremor in her voice stiffens my cock further, making it pulse with hungry need.

“And?” I prompt, pushing the object deeper. The dildo looks almost too big for her delicate body to accept, and the sight of her tight sheath gradually engulfing it is almost painfully erotic.

“And—” she exhales sharply, her head falling back against my shoulder, “—and it feels like it’s stretching me and filling me . . .”

“Yes, baby, that’s right.” By now the dildo is all the way inside her, with only the end sticking out. I reward her for her honesty by rubbing her clit with my fingers, spreading wetness from her dripping opening all around her soft folds. When she’s panting again, her hips undulating against my hand, I stop before she can come and release her from my hold, moving back a bit. Then I push her forward, pressing her face against the mattress, and pull her legs out from underneath her, making her lie flat on her belly.

As much as I want to continue playing with her, I can no longer wait to fuck her.

Deprived of my touch and with her clamped nipples rubbing painfully against the sheets, she whimpers, trying to roll over onto her side. I don’t let her, holding her down with one hand as I shove a pillow under her hips with another. Then I grab lube and squirt it directly on the small, puckered opening between her ass cheeks, right above where the edge of the dildo is protruding from her stretched, glistening pussy.

She tenses, now realizing my intentions, and I slap her ass with one hand, quelling any protest she might’ve been trying to make. “Easy now. You need to tell me how it feels, do you understand me, my pet?”

She whimpers as I straddle her and press the tip of my cock to her tight little asshole, but I feel her trying to relax underneath me, just like I taught her. Anal sex is something she’s still not entirely comfortable with, and her reluctance pleases me in some perverse way. It shows me both how far I’ve come with her training and how far I still have to go.

“Do you understand?” I repeat in a harsher tone when she remains silent, breathing heavily into the mattress, her bound hands tightly clenched behind her back. I desperately want to shove my cock in all the way, but I settle for just nudging her with it, smearing the lube all around her back opening. Tonight I want to get inside her mind just as much as I want to get inside her body, and I won’t settle for anything less.

“Yes . . .” Her words are muffled by the blanket as I press forward and begin to penetrate her ass, ignoring her attempts to squirm away. “It feels . . . oh God . . . I can’t . . . Julian, please, it’s too much—”

“Tell me,” I order, continuing to press in, pushing past the resistance of her sphincter. With her pussy already filled with the dildo, her ass is so tight around my cock that I’m shaking from the effort it’s taking to control myself. My voice is thick with lust when I rasp out, “I want to hear everything.”

“It—it burns . . .” She’s panting, and I can see droplets of sweat gathering between her shoulder blades, strands of her long hair sticking to her damp skin. “Oh fuck . . . I’m too full . . . It’s too intense . . .”

“Yes, that’s good . . . Continue talking . . .” I’m now almost all the way in, and I can feel my dick rubbing against the dildo as only a thin wall separates it from the toy. She’s trembling underneath me now, her body overwhelmed by the sensations, and I stroke her back in a soothing motion as I press forward one last inch, bottoming out deep within her body.

She makes an incoherent noise, her shoulders beginning to shake, and her muscles tighten around my cock in a futile effort to push me out. The movement shifts the dildo within her, and she cries out, her shaking intensifying. “I can’t . . . Julian, please, I can’t . . .”

I groan, explosive pleasure zinging through my balls as her ass squeezes my dick. My control dissolving, I withdraw from her halfway and then plunge back in, reveling in the feel of her body’s resistance, in the almost agonizing tightness of her hot, smooth passage around my shaft.

She screams into the blanket as I begin to drive into her in earnest, a mix of sobs and gasping pleas escaping her throat as I set a hard, rhythmic pace. Leaning forward, I brace myself over her with one hand and slide the other under her hips, finding her sex. Now every thrust of my hips presses her clit against my fingers, and her screams take on a different note, that of unwilling pleasure, of ecstasy mixed with pain. I can feel the dildo shifting and moving as I fuck her, and my orgasm boils up with sudden intensity, my spine tightening as my balls draw up flush against my body. Just as I’m about to erupt, her ass clamps down on me, and I realize with dark pleasure that she’s coming too, that her muscles are spasming around my cock as she cries out underneath me. And then the orgasm hits me, a shockwave of pleasure ripping through my body as jets of my seed spurt out into her hot depths, leaving me stunned and breathless from the force of my release.