My room in Casa Nera sat on the third floor, isolated along a dark hallway. I’d always enjoyed the seclusion of my room. It sat at the end of the building and was round. A turret room for a Mafia princess who had one too many dragons guarding the gates.
I paced inside the darkly furnished room. I had never been allowed to change anything about it as a child, so while other girls were leaning into their rainbow unicorn phases, I was lighting candles on the walls beside dark oil paintings depicting naked bodies writhing in pain or pleasure, it was hard to tell.
A huge four-poster bed dominated the center, and heavy red velvet drapes hung at the corners. I still pulled them at night. The insides held a secret. Once, when I’d been scared in my cavernous, creepy room, my mother had sewed small luminescent stars inside the material, safe from Antonio’s judgmental eyes. Once I was in bed, with the curtains pulled, I drifted high among the stars, and my mother’s memory stayed there, by my side. It was the only place I felt close to her anymore. In a way, I was glad her memory had faded from the walls of Casa Nera, considering the dark deeds that were contained within and the procession of women my father had paraded through, the last one not much older than me.
I stopped, catching my reflection in the dark carved dressing table along one wall. My face stared back. I looked haunted, and I was, by the man downstairs. It was my luck that instead of being haunted by a ghost, I was haunted by a demon who was very much alive. Alive and hurt. Now I was pacing to fight the impulse I had to creep downstairs and free him. My father would murder me if I did.
Tearing my eyes away from my reflection, I flopped on my bed with Silvio’s words going around and around in my head. He was hotheaded and full of vengeance. If I wasn’t careful, Nikolai Chernov would never leave this house alive. It shouldn’t upset me as much as it did.
I still tingled from the memory of Nikolai’s eyes on me in the basement earlier. It had been all I could do not to scream at the first bloodied sight of him. He had cracked jokes and grinned at me, his face a bloody mask. Niko was a man who laughed during torture and held death with a warm embrace. He was also the man who had resigned himself to being tortured to save my life. No one had ever sacrificed like that for me except my brother, but the two couldn’t be compared. My father would never hurt his heir too badly, while Nikolai Chernov? He was fair game, and my father was a vicious person.
A soft knock at the door sent me bolting upright, nerves springing to life in my belly. Angelo was off for the night since I was safely back in my room. My father didn’t worry about my safety at home or anywhere inside Casa Nera. He had no idea about Silvio and his lecherous intentions.
“Sofia, are you decent?”
I was both relieved and apprehensive at the sound of my father’s voice.
‘Yes, Papa,” I called.
I stood and dutifully smoothed my hair as my father unlocked my door. Yes, that’s right, I could lock it with a key, but my father had a copy. There was nowhere to hide from Antonio inside his own house.
He pushed the door open and entered.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I just came to talk,” he said.
Of course, there had to be something the matter, seeing as I could count on one hand the number of times my father had been in my room.
His gaze slowly traveled over me. I could read the disapproval from here. He wandered to a photo on the wall. In it, my mother, Leonora, beamed at the camera, pregnant and joyful, her hand protectively over her swollen belly. Renato had the same one in his room.
“You know, she’d want to see you married by now, Sofia,” Antonio said heavily.
My stomach lurched. What fresh hell was this now? “I’m only twenty-two.”
Antonio shot me a look and my words deserted me. “So was she when she had Renato. Already married and out of her parents’ house. Already benefitting the family.”
I swallowed, knowing he wasn’t looking for a response.
“She understood her duty, even if she failed to be responsible for her children.”
“She hardly meant to get ill,” I pointed out, knowing it was futile, yet unable to listen to him talk disparagingly about my mother.
“She was weak,” Antonio muttered, and cast me a sideways look. “So far, you’re proving to be stronger. You were smart to help catch Nikolai. I was proud of you.”
Something twisted and horrible moved through me. I felt like crying bitter tears for a second. “So, that’s what it takes to make you proud? Dragging a man back here to pull pieces from?” I heard myself ask before I could stop it.
Antonio’s eyes narrowed. “Be careful you don’t show too much compassion for a prisoner. A rival from another family, no less. Compassion is a weakness that must be cut out before it rots the entire famiglia. This is why you need to start a family. A woman shouldn’t live too long at home. She needs to make her own way.”
He wandered into the middle of the room, and something about his look sent gooseflesh dimpling across my skin. I knew before he spoke what he was going to say.
“I’ve arranged a match for you. Your fiancé is Vincenzo Moroni, of the Sicilian Moroni family of New York. Even despite the problems, I’ve still secured you a don.” He had the nerve to look proud of himself.
“A fiancé. Just like that?” I wrapped my arms around my cold chest as though it might keep my panic inside. It didn’t work.
“No, not just like that. You should have been already married. I’m merely correcting the mistake you made in not holding on to your first fiancé. The Moroni family is nothing next to the Chernov bratva, but they have men in New York, which is what we need. You are still helping me to establish a presence in the city. So, you can feel useful, after all.”
“I don’t know him.” I didn’t get any further before my father turned on his heel and made a move toward the door.
“That’s nothing for you to worry about.”
Then he was gone.
The sound of the lock turning in the keyhole was like a nail in my coffin.
I lay in bed and stared at the shining glow-in-the-dark stars floating around me. They were faded now, losing more of their luminescence every day. I knew how they felt. The lid I’d shoved over the dark, writhing panic in my gut was threatening to crack at any moment.
Tears pooled on my pillow, and the wet, salted cotton irritated my skin. My eyes stung, and my nose was stuffy. I’d cut perfect crescents into my palms by clenching my fists. I was furious. I was heartbroken.
Most of all, I was done.
There was no time left for me. No time for Renato to come home and claim leadership of the family. No time to convince my father that he should wait to marry me off, or that I deserved more than a loveless tactical match. That had never been a possibility. I could see that now. Antonio De Sanctis had never cared that much for me, and he had certainly never worried about what I wanted for my life. I had been a fool to daydream about anything different. Soon, I’d be trapped forever, a windup doll without the right to an independent thought or opinion.
Aren’t you already one?
I was on my feet before I could question it. I rubbed my stinging cheeks, my breath coming quickly, my chest aching. All my life, I’d done what I was told. All my life I’d been Antonio De Sanctis’ dutiful daughter. Nikolai had always been right. I lived in a cage, and I willingly kept myself inside it. I had a master, my father, who cared nothing for me. I was a pawn. A puppet. A coward and a fool.
No more.
I left the room and headed along the hall. It was Angelo’s night off, so there was no one to warn me off my wild course of action or feed me unwanted logic and reason. The halls were quiet. It was Sunday night. Most family men were at home on Sunday night. It was easy to work around the guards who remained. I was like a ghost in the halls of my home. I slipped by unchallenged.
Heading down the stairs to the basement, I wasn’t surprised to find there weren’t any guards assigned to watch the sole prisoner locked in one of Antonio’s rooms. He’d had plenty of prisoners down there over the years and had never had a successful escape-well, until Nikolai, that was. But that had been before the youngest Chernov had been locked inside. The way I’d seen him earlier, he’d had no chance of escape.
It was perfect.
I unlocked the deadbolt on the outside of the cell door and pushed inside. The low hallway lights were barely enough to illuminate the inner recesses of the cell, but I didn’t want to turn on the overhead light. I felt freer in the dark.
I took two steps into the room and pushed the door closed behind me. Only a slither of light crept into the room. I waited in the dark for my eyes to adjust.
“Well, this is a surprise, prom queen. Did you get our rooms confused? I’ll give you a hint: yours has fewer torture implements.”
I walked toward him on steady legs. I wasn’t conflicted. My turmoil had passed.
I could make him out now. He was sitting with his back against the wall, and I knew his hands were tied behind him. He had his legs drawn up, bent at the knee. As I approached, he slid them down.
“Lastochka, what’s wrong?”
His deep voice slid over my skin, making me burn. No one in my life made me feel like Nikolai did. No one turned me on with just the timber of his voice.
I reached him and sank to my knees. I still couldn’t speak. I couldn’t find the words. I stretched one leg over him, moving to straddle him and he jerked in the restraints like he wanted to reach for me but couldn’t. I settled my weight against him, and he groaned.
“Does it hurt?” My voice sounded throaty and low, nothing like my usual tone.
“Not enough to stop,” Nikolai murmured.
Time seemed to halt when I brought my hands to his face. I cupped his cheeks like he’d cupped mine so many times. “Good.”
It was the last I managed before I leaned in and kissed him. I felt his shock. In all our tussles, I’d never been the instigator. I’d been the one who fell apart in his hands while trying desperately to deny to both of us that I wanted him.
Tonight I was being honest for once in my life.
I pressed my tongue against his lips, and he opened for me with a soft growl, immediately taking charge somehow, despite not having hands to help him.
His tongue slid along mine, hot and wet and slow, like he was savoring my touch. I rocked against him, feeling him already hard and waiting. His hard-on pressed on my pussy, and the thin sleep shorts did nothing to blunt the sensation of his want. I could come like this, rubbing my cunt against his jeans again, but tonight, I wanted more.
My hands fell down his body, and I reached for his jeans. He stilled as I popped them open. I reached inside and felt his rapidly hardening dick. I pulled him free, and he swelled in my hands as I wrapped them around his wide girth. I pumped up and down ineptly. I’d never touched a dick before. I was fascinated by the way it was silky soft and intimidatingly hard at the same time.
“Is this okay?” I asked, my voice a rasp.
“I’d usually say buy a guy dinner first, but seeing as it’s you… Spit on it, prom queen,” he instructed. “Get it nice and wet so I can pretend it’s your cunt.”
His filthy words dragged at my senses, turning me on even more. I followed his command and leaned down, spitting on the head of his cock and spreading it down his length with my fists. The sound of my strokes felt deafening in the silent dark.
“Like that?”
“Fuck yeah, just like that.”
I pumped him for longer, enjoying exploring his member. I let my fingers move around the crown, down to his balls, and over all the thick veins that sprawled along the thick length. His tip was leaking pre-cum, and I gathered it with my finger to taste it. Nikolai jerked against the cuffs, a low growl leaving his throat.
I let go and stood. He watched me. I could make out his face better now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark. His eyes were endless pits of hunger. I pushed down my sleep shorts and slid my hand between my legs. I was already wet from touching him. Next, I positioned myself over his lap.
“Are you really about to fuck me, prom queen, while I’m tied up and can’t touch you back?” His voice was strangled with want.
I slowly knelt astride him and touched his dick again, pulling it up and placing it at my entrance. My thigh muscles trembled as I held myself poised over him.
“Yes, I’m going to do exactly that unless you don’t want me to.”
He was silent, staring into my eyes, only inches from his. “And I thought your father had a knack for torture. I guess it runs in the family,” he said finally.
He flexed his hips, sending the tip of his cock inside me. We both groaned at the same time. I sank down a little, inch by inch.
“Stop me now if you don’t want me,” I warned him.
“I couldn’t stop you now if my life depended on it. And for the record, I’ll never not want you.” Nikolai groaned.
It was too much. His surprisingly sweet words, and the feeling of him entering me. The act of rebellion was a turn-on, too. I was taking the decision about my body in my hands, and for once, I didn’t care what happened because of it. I might be about to marry some stranger, but this moment, right here, my first time, was my choice. I was choosing the only man who had ever sacrificed for me. The one man who saw all my fucked-up parts and found them beautiful.
I sank all the way down on him. The pain was a quick, deep twinge that radiated outward. Half the pain was popping my cherry, but the rest was how wide and long Nikolai was. My muscles strained to accommodate him. I cried out and rested my head against his sternum. It was the oddest feeling. Nikolai softly shushed me and rocked his knees, bent behind me. It was soothing and rubbed his cock against places inside me that made the pain go away. Bit by bit, the pain faded, and only heat remained.
“Does it hurt?” He echoed my earlier question.
“Not enough to stop.”
I moved on him in small nudges, exploring the feeling. I grew more adventurous, rising and falling at a faster pace, and Nikolai blew out a harsh breath.
“Touch yourself, Sofia. Play with your clit while you fuck me.”
I brought my hand around my front and touched myself.
Nikolai grinned. “Good girl. Get yourself off while you bounce on my cock and cover me in your cum.”
I gasped as his words unraveled pure heat in my belly. I bucked my hips, growing braver as I rose and slammed down. I circled my hips on him, chasing the orgasm rushing toward me.
“Touch yourself faster, prom queen. You’re going to come.”
“How do you know?” I gasped, arching my back and bouncing wildly on top of him.
“I can fucking feel it,” he gritted, and pushed his hips up into me.
Without warning, I came. The world went white, and my body contracted all over. My pussy clamped down on Nikolai, and he groaned as I kept moving on him, my body rising and falling out of pure animal instinct. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t trying to do anything. I was simply feeling. For a second, I was completely free.
Nikolai pushed into me, his hips still pistoning up while I pulsed around him, senseless in my pleasure.
“Fuck me, Sofia, I’m coming,” he growled.
His hips pushed into me, once, twice, and then stilled. His cock leapt inside me, and warmth filled me as he finished, pushed deep. His cum was hot, warming me from the inside. It felt decadent and dirty as hell, and somehow good, despite that.
His cock surged within me for an entire minute after he’d started to come, his body tight, his teeth clenched. His eyes never closed, though. He watched me throughout. There was so much bridled strength and power in his body at that moment, I didn’t think I could have done this with him untied. He was too overwhelming.
“Kiss me,” he urged as I slumped forward, my muscles finally relaxing.
I brought my lips to his and lightly placed a kiss there. It was stupidly chaste after what we’d just done, but it felt intimate in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
He deepened it, rocking me with his half-hard cock, still buried deep, as his cum slid down my legs and wet my inner thighs. I wondered if there’d be blood, too.
Cold reality spread through me as the haze of urgency dissipated. I pulled back before I wanted to. I could stay there all night, enjoying the feeling of being wanted by someone I wanted back, but it was too dangerous. Dangerous for me, sure. Disappointing my father again was terrifying, but the real danger was for Nikolai. If someone found us together, he’d never leave here. My father would kill him.
I rose on shaky legs, ignoring the sensation of his seed running down my leg and the ache in my pussy. I tucked his wet cock back into his jeans and fastened them again. Before I leaned away, Nikolai wordlessly pressed a kiss to the top of my head. I had taken his roughness, his mocking, and his wicked intentions. His tenderness was something else entirely.
I nearly ran back to my room.
