Chapter 6 Naomi

• Naomi
• There had been times I was scared in my life. Times that I thought I had watched my life flash before my eyes and knew that I was going to die.
• Feeling that knife pressed up against my throat, though, I knew I had been close to death, too close. One misstep, one wrong move, and that knife would have slipped through my skin like butter.
• When Gavril had slid the knife down to my breast, I hadn’t been as scared as I thought I would.
• When he pressed its sharp tip against my clit, I was shamefully turned on by the thought of danger before me. It was disturbing to think that I wasn’t disgusted by the threat.
• But it also warned me how dangerous the man before me was.
• I wasn’t dealing with assholes from a club or even overzealous actors that were looking to have a quickie with what they perceived as an eager actress looking for her big break. Or with—and I fought back the shudder at the very thought of the name—Jon.
• No, Gavril was different.
• I would bet my life on the fact that he killed men with his bare hands, that he had held a gun more times than I could count, and did horrific, unspeakable things in his struggles against the other organized crime groups of LA.
• I was on my knees in front of not only a power-hungry man but one that would be my husband.
• Now, I stared as his angry cock pointed at me from its small thatch of dark hair, the head engorged with need. My stomach dropped when I saw how big he was, something deep inside of me wound tight.
• It wasn’t hard to see the deep V of Gavril’s body through the gap in his trousers, how his muscles flexed as he moved his hand over his cock. I swallowed hard. Even without touching him, I knew he was all muscle and power, the epitome of a fine specimen.
• “Open your mouth,” Gavril murmured above me, his hand stroking the velvet flesh. Despite the panic that was setting in, I felt a bead of wetness slowly roll down my thighs, hating that every moment in front of him was turning me on in the worst possible way.
• Every part of me wanted to fight back. Instead, my traitorous mouth dropped open, and I felt him rest the throbbing head against my lips. His musky odor—intoxicatingly masculine—overwhelmed my senses. And a small pearl drop rolled down the tip into my open mouth.
• His finger curled under my chin, tilting me closer to him so that there would be no escape. The searingly hot head pushed its way past my lips and slowly into my mouth.
• “Don’t you dare look away.”
• Without warning, he filled my mouth. I struggled to keep my mouth open and breathe through my nose, but he was so large that he was stretching my jaw even wider, the head bumping the roof of my mouth.
• He tasted of salt and something darker, something that I was sure was unique to him alone.
• I didn’t have time to even get adjusted to the feel of him in my mouth as Gavril thrust forward, and I nearly choked. But I didn’t dare look away. Something told me that if I did, he would do something far, far worse.
• Tears welled up from my eyes as he fucked my mouth. This was too much. Too soon. If he wanted me to actually pleasure him, he was doing it wrong. I reached up, trying to push him away from my face. The hot, salty head rammed against my throat.
• “No,” he grunted, grabbed my hands and held them above my head so that he controlled the rhythm. “You don’t get a say in this.”
• My jaw ached, and my head was spinning from the lack of air. Spit and precum leaked out of the corner of my mouth. The floor started to bite into my knees. A tear rolled out of my eye and I felt it rolling down my face, beading at my chin for a precarious second and finally falling silently to the floor.
• I wondered if there was any other way of feeling as humiliated as I did right now.
• I couldn’t do anything. Gavril owned every part of this encounter between us, and I knew this was how it was going to be in our marriage.
• Our sham of a marriage that I didn’t want, and he didn’t know was going to be the biggest sham of all.
• Gavril set the pace, his cock sliding in and out of my mouth and somehow avoiding my teeth. There was a moment where I thought about what would happen if I bit down. But the way he held my hands over my head told me that he could hurt me far more than I could hurt him.
• So, I let him abuse my mouth and throat. I let the tears fall down my cheeks, knowing that Vera was watching my humiliation.
• This man will be my husband tomorrow, I thought, and my heart shattered.
• I was wrong. He wasn’t just a monster.
• He was the devil.
• But as the humiliating thoughts crossed my mind and tears rolled down my cheeks, another thought intruded into my head.
• I wanted to take his cock in my hand, to show him that I could stroke him near completion until he was begging me to stop.
• I wanted him to pick me up, bend me over the nearby chair, and push his thick cock past my dripping sex me until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. Warmth spread from the depth of a pit in my stomach. A twisted form of pleasure was bubbling up inside of me.
• My lower half quivered with need, and I was well aware of the shameful wetness between my thighs. I shouldn’t like this. I kept repeating. But another voice in my head screamed, MORE!
• I kept my gaze locked with his as he continued to punish my mouth however he wanted to. Please, I begged him with my eyes. Please just cum and let this be over. Please.
• I also could tell that he was getting close; his other hand found its way to my hair and held me in place as his hips thrust in and out of my sore mouth. Panic gripped my heart and for a moment, I thought he was about to drown me.
• To my relief, Gavril pulled out and with a roar, he aimed his release at my face. The warm spurt of his seed covered my face, neck, and hair, rolling down in thick, sticky drops over my breasts. I didn’t dare move, my mind still shocked and numb at what just happened.
• My humiliation was complete.
• It didn’t help my own aching need, but I wasn’t going to dare mention that to him or to anyone in the room.
• Gavril’s hand found a handful of my hair and yanked up until I was forced to stand, my legs weak from being in one position for so long. His rough fingers gripped my chin and forced me to look at Vera, who stood in the corner, an unreadable expression on her pinched face.
• “Apologize to her,” he growled, his fingers digging into my skin.
• “I’m sorry, Vera,” I breathed, wondering what she thought about seeing me like this. Was she happy that he did this to me? Did she feel bad? Did she even care?
• “I accept her apology, master,” Vera finally said.
• Gavril let my chin go and stepped back, tucking himself back into his trousers. “Pick out a dress, and I will see you at the church tomorrow.”
• Reality came crash back down. Tomorrow…I would be wed to him tomorrow. I opened my mouth to speak, but Gavril was already moving toward the door at a clipped pace, disappearing before I could even utter my first word.
• For a moment I stared at the doorway, half wondering if he would make an appearance again. My hands, trembling, slowly rose up, and I slowly felt his sticky essence on my face, my lips, and my hair. My breath quickened, and suddenly I found my vision blurred with tears.
• My chest rose and fell in shuddering gasps as tears fell from my eyes. Did that really just happen?
• “Here.”
• Vera’s single utterance broke through the silence, and I turned to find her holding a towel toward me, her mouth tightened.
• “Thank you,” I sniffled.
• Her eyes widened, and it was only then that I realized I’d replied in English.
• Vera didn’t respond as I toweled myself off, knowing that I still had some in my hair. My hands trembled as I did so, waiting for her to say anything to me. Now that my cover was blown, anything could happen.
• “You still need a dress,” Vera finally said, sticking to Russian.
• I turned, my cheeks aflame for what she saw. “I truly am sorry,” I answered her in Russian. “For what I did.”
• She inhaled deeply and exhaled before she bent down to pick up the ripped dresses I had thrown on the floor.
• “You must choose one, devushka,” she said softly.
• This time I wrapped the towel around myself and walked over to the rack, looking for any dress that caught my eye.
• “This one,” I said softly, pulling a dress off the rack. It was lovely, one that I would have picked myself if this wedding was one that I wanted.
• Vera took the dress from my hands, motioning to the towel and tutting with her lips. “Off,” she stated. “You need to try it on.”
• I didn’t fight her, allowing her to drape it over my head and twist me whatever way she wanted to for the fit. She muttered and fretted under her breath, putting in pins here and there for measurements.
• I stood motionless until she nodded at me to take it off and return it to her.
• “It will be ready tomorrow,” she stated firmly, draping the dress over her arm. “Others will come to help you do your hair and makeup.”
• After that, Vera escorted me back to my room, still wrapped in a towel, and locked me in. I collapsed on the floor the moment she did so, glad to finally be alone so I could process what had happened today.
• Oh God.
• The tears started in earnest then as I lay on the floor. The same pit in my stomach where I had experienced so much pleasure earlier was replaced with something else. Something that sapped all strength from my limbs. Something that made me feel worthless. Dirty. Used.
• Broken.
• I sobbed loudly at how Gavril had humiliated me in front of Vera and how I had tried to stand up to him, only to fail.
• Oh God.
• This man would be my husband tomorrow.
• Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
• Eventually, my tears ran dry and I realized just how cold I was. I slowly got up and shuffled to the shower, turning it on until the bathroom was full of steam. The panties went into the trash, and I stepped under the multiple sprays, allowing them to assault my body and wash away Gavril’s touch.
• Was I going to let him touch me tomorrow? What was I going to do if he questioned the lack of my virginity? Surely by now he had questions. I doubted that Sveta would have accepted a cock in her mouth so readily.
• Sinking to the floor of the shower, I let the water beat my skin until it was red and hot to the touch. But inside, I was cold. Cold with…what? Dread? Fear? Shame? I hugged my knees to my chest and felt the tears welling in my eyes again.
• ***
• After what felt like hours, I got myself out of the shower and threw on some comfortable clothing. Lying on the bed, I stared up at the ornate ceiling above. There was nothing I could do now unless I felt like I wanted to throw myself off the balcony and end it all.
• Tomorrow I would be married to a man I didn’t know, pretending to be a woman that he thought would bring him some measure of power.
• He was going to kill me when he found out the truth.
• Or he’ll do something far worse than kill you…a little voice whispered in my head.
• Swallowing hard, I forced myself to close my eyes, to rest while I still could. Tomorrow would take all my strength, every bit I had to get through it. Plus, I had to make sure that I kept up my ruse and did not slip up again.
• Because if I did slip up, it could be my life.
• I slept fitfully. As the sun started to lighten the sky, I found myself up and rifling through the clothing, trying to find the right undergarments to wear with my wedding dress.
• I felt like I was about to be led to my execution.
• Vera came with my breakfast shortly after, finding me already bundled in a robe, freshly bathed. “Eat,” she commanded, placing the tray on the bed. “The hairdresser will be here soon.”
• No words about yesterday. No words about my slipup, if she even noticed that particular moment. Maybe she thought that I knew some broken English and wasn’t concerned about it.
• Instead of being excited about my breakfast, I was too nervous to eat it, and the coffee tasted bitter on my tongue. After the wedding, would we come back to this room, or go to another mansion that Gavril owned?
• Would I call him Gavril even after what he had done? Right now, master seemed more appropriate since he was about to own every part of me.
• A burst of laughter escaped me. Not every part. The signature I would put on the papers today would be Sveta’s signature, not mine. In the event that he found out, we wouldn’t be married.
• Not legally.
• He would have no control.
• Until he holds you down in your bed, the damn voice purred. Spreads that aching pussy of yours and pushes that big, thick cock deep inside—
• “Shut up!” I squeezed my eyes shut.
• The door opened once more, and I watched as Vera and an army of women stepped through, their hands full of boxes and the wedding dress I had picked out.
• My time had come.
• Vera pointed to the chair before the mirrored vanity in the bathroom and I wearily sat before it, allowing a woman to look at my tresses, clucking her tongue as she did so. When she pulled out her shears, I shook my head, stopping her.
• “I don’t want it cut.” I hadn’t cut my hair in a long time, only trimming the ends so that it would be the perfect length for my actress auditions.
• Vera pursed her lips but nodded and the woman sighed, picking up the ends and trimming them instead. I met Vera’s eyes through the mirror and gave her a faint smile in return, glad that she had given me this boon for now.
• For an hour I was primped and preened, my hair styled in a manner that was going to be the perfect style for the dress I was wearing. My makeup was lighter than I thought it would be, and the sweep of the red lip almost made me smile, catching myself at the last moment to keep from showing any sort of happiness today.
• I wasn’t a bride.
• I was a piece of meat being led to market.
• Yet every single of these people thought that I was going to enjoy my wedding day.
• I hated it. My stomach churned suddenly, and I was glad that I hadn’t eaten anything because I might not be able to keep it down.
• After my hair and makeup were done, Vera waved them all away, meeting my gaze in the mirror once more.
• “You will be happy today,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “You will smile and laugh and pretend that this is everything you’ve ever wanted. And after the guests have all left, you will return and give yourself to him. No fighting. No resisting. Let him have what he wants.”
• “Of course,” I answered bitterly, meeting her gaze. “What choice do I have?”
• Vera’s expression didn’t change. “None, but that is how you will stay alive.”
• She walked off, and I kept the tears at bay.
• No one was on my side.
• No one at all.