I’ve never felt adrenaline like it.
My pulse spiked. I’m used to it doing that.
Just not inthatway.
I’m no stranger to walking on eggshells around my father, living between anxiety attacks, wondering when he’d start looking at me like trash, how he always looked at Mom.
He never even looked at me. And I still to this day, don’t know which is better.
But being kidnapped raised something unusual inside of me. It felt dangerous.Exciting. That was because I thought Valerian was the one dragging me onto the boat.
The anticipation died when the diver removed his mask. This man wasnotValerian.
But I knew I was gonna be seeing him very soon.
And that was all that mattered to me.
Because I remembered how exciting our first interaction was.
I swim lengths of the pool, flipping against the wall, falling into a meditative state. I hear birds chirping from the trees. The sloshing sound of water pulls me deeper into flow state, undoing some of the tension in my shoulders.
I keep swimming, forgetting where I am, whose pool I’m using. But that desperate, burning sensation in my core isn’t budging.
My attraction for Valerian is growing. I hate that I like how controlling he is. He owns me. It’s fucked up. I should have autonomy over my own body. But with him, I don’t want to.
Desire burns low in my stomach. I need him to use me.
I stop in the middle of the pool, kicking my legs to stay afloat. Swimming isn’t the reason I’m breathless. No matter what I do, I can’t help but think about him.
I slip a finger under my bikini and find my clit. I’m safe under the water. The wall of palm trees running around the perimeter keeps me protected. The guards won’t be able to see me touching myself. Not if I keep myself under the water.
I swim to the wall, throwing my arm over the edge to prop myself up. I run my finger over my clit, picturing last night. All I want is his tongue there again, flicking my clit, making my squirm.
But I need him to take me all the way. I could make myself come. But you can only bring yourself so far when you’re doing it yourself.
God, I need his cock filling every inch of me.
I lose my grip on the wall, my body starting to let go. A whimper escapes my mouth, the water splashing as I fight to keep my head above the surface.
I cling onto the tiled wall with my feet, pressing myself against it, holding still while I rub my clit. I’m in too much pain. I rarely finger myself—let alone doing it in public.
But I have no control over myself. Even when he’s absent, he still finds a way to make me cave.
The sound of rustling trees fades away. I throw my arm over the wall, regripping, holding myself up as my climax edges closer.
That’s when the space around me turns dark. I look up.
And I feel adrenaline fizzle through me. Danger. Excitement. Emotions I’ve never felt before—up until three days ago, come rushing to the surface, consuming me. Black spots fill my vision from how aroused I am.
He’s above me, staring into the pool. The water is very clear. Without a doubt, he can see what I’m doing.
“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice is exactly how I like it. Rough. And very fucking Russian.
My breath catches in my throat when I see the gun lodged under his belt.
Oh shit.Suddenly, the adrenaline isn’t so sweet anymore.
“What might you be doing down there, sweetheart?”