Chapter 11
Chelsea
Fingers driftalong my spine in a lazy circle, the pressure increasing as it gets to my hips. Groaning into the touch, I shift my hips, sighing as Master Grigori's scent teases my nostrils. I knew he couldn't have abandoned me. All of this was just a nightmare. He turns me over, his eyes staring down into mine. I open my mouth to tell him about my dream, but he places his finger on my lips before shaking his head. His warm mouth replaces his finger, his tongue slipping in and out. It feels familiar but not quite right. Fisting my hands, I raise them up to slide my palms over his back, to draw him in even closer, but they won't move.
I jerk at the restraints, fighting to be free. I want to be afraid - I should be afraid. Something in my brain flashes out a warning, but I can't do anything. I'm languid and soft, open to anything Master Grigori wants to do to me. Every time my brain tells me something, I'm overwhelmed with an acute sense of not caring. His hands and lips chase away every thought, leaving me breathless and at his mercy.
Every inch of me aches as he alternates between kisses and bites, covering my skin with what are bound to be bruises, but I don't care. Let him break me if he needs to. I'm in his arms, and that's all that matters. Soft whispers flow around us like wisps of smoke. I try to pin down what's being said, but it eludes me. Everything eludes me. I watch Master Grigori's mouth, but none of the sounds come from him.
As I turn my head, his strong fingers encircle my throat, pinning me against the bed. Air slips through my lips in small gasps. A full, thick pressure fills my head as he pushes harder. I can still breathe, but my pulse pounds through my face and buzzes in my ears. My eyelashes flutter as darkness threatens to overtake me again. Rough fingers enter me, filling me completely. I convulse as pleasure tears through my body, stealing what small amounts of air I can muster. The pitiful squeak I'm able to manage sounds weak and pitiful through my ears.
He doesn't move. His fingers stay lodged within me as I flutter about his thick digits. The fingers around my neck tighten even more, sending my eyes rolling back into my skull. My heart beats frantically until I'm afraid it's going to burst out of my chest. Even with the panic welling up inside me from the lack of air, my core still grips at him, milking his fingers, silently begging him to move, to give me more.
Light leaks around his face, blinding me as I glance up at him. Another face is superimposed onto Master Grigori's, but I still can't muster up the strength to fight back. As suddenly as the light appears, it's gone again, leaving me alone with Master Grigori. He lets go of my neck, and I gulp down precious air, filling my lungs to capacity. Once I'm breathing normally, he starts all over again. His fingers pull out and thrust back in, and his other hand robs me of breath. We've never played this game before, and I'm not altogether certain I like it.
Many times since Master Grigori has taken me, I've cursed not filling out a hard limits sheet. Maybe after, if I ask nicely, he won't be so rough with his breath play. Those earlier moments when my body tingles, that's nice. The part where he keeps squeezing is what terrifies me. What if he miscalculates and strangles me? The thought flees even as it's forming, drifting off into the ether with all the other half-baked thoughts that never seem to stick.
As his fingers dig into my neck, sending shafts of pain behind my ears and up my skull, his other fingers pump in and out in a furious rhythm, one that cannot be ignored. My gaze flutters up to Master Grigori's face, his visage fuzzing in and out as my pulse gets thicker in my ears. The sharp jabs of his fingers borderline on pain as they relentlessly pound into me. Fear tries to make its presence known as I process what's happening.
Master Grigori has never hurt me before in this way, but try as I might, I can't bring myself to care. All my emotions are dull. Is it because he's choking me? I'm dreading the orgasm I feel building deep within me. It curls about my insides, cramping my muscles. I don't want to come. Not like this, but Master Grigori won't let me hide from the feelings threatening to burst out.
Wailing, bright light assaults my eyes as the orgasm tears through my body, leaving me sobbing on a cold, metal table. The face above me is not Master Grigori's. I have no idea who this stranger is. The fear that's been long kept at bay sweeps through me, racking my body with its shudders. I pull my hands in front to cover myself, but they're held firm above my head.
"Settle now there, missy. Just checking out the goods. You just lie back while I finish. This tight cunt of yours is going to make me some good money. Just need to see how much it can take. Dose her again, will you? She seems to acclimate too fast to Sleeping Beauty. We'll have to give her something different when we arrive."
I thrash about, ignoring the pain ripping through my lower half. The man doesn't pull out his fingers; he just lets me hurt myself as I try to get away. The metal cuffs at my wrists bite into my skin as I pull on my arms. I ignore the warm, sticky liquid dripping down them as I yank with all my might. When another large man looms over me, I bring up my head in an attempt to bash him, anything to get him away.
With a dark chuckle, he slams his palm against the side of my face bringing darkness into my vision again. Nausea rolls through me as pain drives into my skull. I turn my head just in case I end up puking. That's not how I want to die. Tears stream down my face as the needle punctures my skin again. He finally rips his fingers out of me, the pain driving bile back up into my throat. As the blackness encroaches again, his fingers drift down to my bottom hole.