Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
He pointed to a small shelf on the wall.
“That pulls down to a toilet.”
My stomach turned in horror. “Absolutely not. I don’t care what sick kinks you have, that is not happening. I’m not going to pee in front of you.”
Kostya shrugged, completely unbothered. “Then I guess you don’t need to pee.” He buried his face against my neck, his grip tightening, his breath warm against my skin.
I had to be strong. I had to be.
It would be so easy to close my eyes again, to sink into the warmth of his body, to let myself drift into sleep wrapped in the one thing that had ever truly made me feel safe. But that safety was a lie. A gilded cage.
“Kostya, please.” I had to keep my voice calm, reasonable, even if there was an edge of desperation in it. “There’s a bathroom three doors down.”
He didn’t respond. He just held me tighter.
I swallowed, pushing forward. “There’s nowhere else for me to go. If I was going to tell a train official what was happening, I would have done it before you ever dragged me in here. You know I know better than to get the cops involved or try anything stupid. Please…” I exhaled shakily, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just let me keep some of my dignity. Let me pee in peace.”
For a moment, there was silence.
And then his arm loosened just enough. Not enough to let me go—not yet—but enough to make me wonder if he would. If he’d let me have this one small mercy.
Or if he would keep me here, trapped in this bed, in his arms, drowning in a war of my own making.
“I’ll keep my eyes closed,” he said, his body still wrapped around mine.
That wasn’t good enough.
I really had to pee, but there was only so much humiliation I could endure in one night. The spanking—embarrassing, maddening, and God help me, thrilling—had been more than enough.
Veronika had always been the one who could bend men to her will, who could turn a sharp look or a honeyed word into a weapon. She had been made for seduction, for manipulation. But I wasn’t like her. I wasn’t elegant. I wasn’t effortless.
Men didn’t stare at me the way they had always stared at her.
But I had to try something.
I turned in his arms so we were chest to chest, my body pressing into his. His eyes opened at the contact.
I swallowed down my hesitation and purred, “Kostya, please.”
His brow twitched slightly.
I slid my hands beneath his shirt, my fingers trailing along the warmth of his skin, brushing over the firm ridges of his side, his chest. His body was hard where I was soft, built for strength, for control.
It wasn’t fair for him to be this dangerous and this tempting.
I traced his abs with my fingertips, letting instinct guide me because I had nothing else left to rely on. “I know what happens to bad girls,” I whispered. “You taught me well. Let me prove I learned my lesson.”
His breath came out in a low growl, deep and vibrating against my fingertips.
It worked.
“You have two minutes,” he finally said, voice thick and edged with warning. “If you take longer than that, I’ll break down the fucking door.”
Relief bloomed inside me, and before I could think better of it, I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. His jaw clenched. My body hummed at the small victory as I pulled away, reaching for my leather jacket and shawl.
Another low, animalistic sound rumbled from his throat as I tugged my hair out from under the collar.
“The hall is cold,” I reasoned, knowing better than to test his patience. I’d never get away with grabbing my bag, too. “I’ll be right back.”
“Two minutes,” he reminded me, his tone a leash tightening around my throat.
I stepped out into the corridor, shivering the moment I left the cocoon of warmth. Whether it was the room’s heating or Kostya’s body that had kept me so warm, I wasn’t sure.
The train was quiet, the soft rumble of wheels against the tracks filling the silence. Dimmed runner lights guided my way as I moved quickly down the aisle, reaching the cramped bathroom.
Once inside, I took care of what I needed to, then braced my hands against the cold metal basin, staring into the mirror in front of me.
I didn’t recognize the woman staring back.
My skin wasn’t pale and ghostly as usual. There was color in my cheeks, a fresh glow that didn’t belong to me. My lips were swollen, kiss-bruised. The tops of my breasts were flushed, peeking through the disheveled neckline of my sweater. My hair was a tangled mess, wild curls framing my face. My eyes almost too bright.
I swallowed hard and looked away, unable to meet my own reflection.