Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
He drinks often at night, reliving his own memories, I think. I want to know the ghosts of his past. The things that haunt him. If only to take the focus off of my own demons for once.
Tonight, when I peek through his doorway, hidden in shadows, I find something else entirely.
He is sitting at his desk, but he is not asleep. His pants are unzipped, and he is gripping his cock in his fist. Pleasuring himself. His eyes are closed, his head leaned back against the chair. The muscles of his forearm tense with each harsh pull, and a jolt shoots through my body at the sight.
Sex has always been a coping mechanism for me. The only way I could connect to a man. I want to connect with Alexei. I want him to want to fuck me.
But then his friend Viktor’s words filter through my mind.
Dirty. Filthy. Whore.
That’s what I am. Why would Alexei want me?
I wonder who it is he thinks of when he pleasures himself. My husband.
Katya?
I don’t know who she is. But the very name produces a fire inside of me that I can’t put out.
Alexei grunts, and his hips flex upwards. I slide my fingers into my shorts and breach the barrier of my panties. Already, I am wet for him. I touch myself while I watch him.
His breathing is changing. Growing harsher. Faster. He’s almost there. And I’m nowhere near it.
I can’t get myself off anymore. It’s been too long since I’ve even tried. But I want to touch. To feel. To watch this secret part of him that he keeps hidden away. Someone in their most vulnerable and intimate moments.
He is jerking himself roughly. Angrily. At war with his lust. Something is holding him back from his pleasure. With a frustrated groan, he fumbles for the remote on his desk and opens his eyes, focusing his attention on the screen for a brief moment.
And that’s all it takes. He comes with a harsh growl, spurting into his fist. I’m transfixed by the sight of him like this.
Exhausted, he leans his head back against the chair and closes his eyes again. And I finally move my attention to the screen, to see what it is that pushed him over the edge.
What I find scares and thrills me.
The girl on the screen is me. Standing in his gym two days ago, smiling. For only the briefest of seconds. A freeze frame from a security camera I never knew existed.
My mind cannot handle the overwhelming emotions that spring up inside of me. So I retreat. The same way that I always do.
16
Talia
Alexei has given me a computer.
Not directly, but through Magda. It is small and thin, with a silver casing. I have not opened it. But I like to feel the smooth surface beneath my palm.
Magda explained that if there were clothes or anything I’d like to purchase, that I could do so through this device. Before any hope sprang up inside of me, she informed me that all the packages would be received by her and Franco and not to try anything questionable.
There isn’t a single purchase that I’d like to make. But there is something else inside of that computer. An answer to a question whispering at the back of my mind.
I’m tracing over the tiny apple emblem when Alexei’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“You have not used it.”
I don’t answer him, but I do look up. Today, he is dressed for going out. The same black jacket and gray flat cap on his head as when we first met.
Alexei never leaves.
In my eyes, nothing else exists outside of this world he’s built for us. These walls and this space which harbors me and keeps me safe. But he is the gatekeeper. And when he is gone that safe feeling flees with him. And the thought of him doing so now sends a small sliver of fear through me. I don’t understand why. He doesn’t miss it. And like always, I wonder how he reads me so well.
“I will only be away for a short while,” he says. “Franco will remain here to look out for you, as well as Magda.”
I nod, though his words do nothing to dissipate my fear. Every breath I take feels forced, stilted… as if my lungs have given up. I’ve lost the will to breathe. He promised he would keep me safe. But then I think of Arman. How unlikely it is he will ever let me go. What if he came here? I haven’t been counting. Or planning.
I need to do that.
Because Arman will come. Alexei’s words mean nothing to me. Just as Dmitri’s and all of the others before him. Words are nothing. Even the vows of marriage cannot protect me. Shield me. Or even repair me. And I must die.