Page 20 of Corrupt: XXX Vadim 2
Chapter Seven
“Did I hurt you?” Vadim asks, his voice a low rasp.
I’m in his arms, too weak to move. At some point, he must have released me from the manacles because my arms are free, trembling at my sides. With what little strength I can muster, I shake my head and rest my cheek against his shoulder.
“No,” I tell him as he strokes my back with so much gentleness it leaves me reeling. “No, you didn’t hurt me.”
“I’m sorry,” he adds, brushing his lips across my damp forehead. He doesn’t say for what. For sexual torture? For pushing my fragile boundaries to their limits? For a part of his plan, I’m woefully unaware of?
“I do want you,” I croak, letting my eyes shut as exhaustion barrels through me, mixed with guilt and regret. All of it creates a tumult so vast, the only way through it is to just talk. “I do. I’m just afraid. I don’t want to disappoint you orbedisappointed. I’ve been through too damn much… I can’t be disappointed.”
He laughs so deeply that I force myself to open my eyes merely to see his face. He’s eyeing the ceiling, his lips contorted into a tired grin.
“I’ve never had a relationship, so perhaps that fear isn’t entirely misplaced…”
“Never?” I can’t hide my skepticism. I’m practically in a coma after a bout of ruthless, vicious sex. Does he really expect me to believe that no other woman has experienced this with him?
No,I realize with growing awe. He doesn’t care either way, because it’s the truth. A rare hint of vulnerability shapes his expression, betraying just how uneasy he is at opening up to me. Which further reinforces the gravity of the fact that he’s doing so at all.
“What did you call me?” he wonders, grimacing at the memory. “Mean? I call it prudent. Most people don’t seek more from me than what they want in the moment. What they can gain. My brother sees me as a burden. To Ena, I am a partner. Even Milton sees me as a scared little boy he’s sworn to protect. As for women? I’ve never experienced more than sex.”
“Their loss,” I rasp, letting my face fall against his chest, utterly spent. But a part of me bristles at his boasts. Someone like him—so used to using manipulation as a tool—might see those relationships in such stark terms. But a partnership without true concern doesn’t result in someone stocking the fridge of their employer just to ensure they eat. And Milton… I saw how he intervened between him and his brother. Someone who didn’t care wouldn’t do that. Could a man be so blind as to the genuine love of those around him? Woe to any woman who dared to broach the topic. “I think I should be pleased to be the recipient of your pent-up lust,” I add, changing the subject to safer waters.
“Thirty-one years of it,” he declares, sliding his hand down my back. “Why shouldn’t I demand more? I am tired of waiting for my turn.”
His turn?
“You make me explore things I never thought possible,” he adds with a subtle hint of inflection that makes me quiver. “Iwillbreak you down… I can be persistent when it comes to that which I desire. You have been warned.”
Does he truly mean that? My aching body shivers at the possibilities. I could cry at the potential, and yet my toes still curl, ravenous for more.
“I love being with you,” I confess, lulled by the thrum of his heartbeat. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
“You hurt me?” He laughs again, this sound more beautiful than the first. “I think I can suffer whatever pain you can dish out, as long as you perform your unique way of currying favor afterward.”
“Ah.” I lift my lips, pleased that he seems to enjoy my “ways” as much as I do. “And just to think, a few days ago, I had to fight you to let me suck your cock.”
“A foolish man, then,” he concedes. “Such a fool. But he is thankfully in the past. Stay with me, and I will learn plenty of ways to both pleasure you and explore the use of your mouth.”
He pulls me closer, holding me so tight it’s just to the point of painful. For some reason, it’s easier to write off his words as boasts made in the heat of the moment. Nothing more. Even as his gaze burns with searing intensity…
He’s bluffing.
“Promise?” I say, testing that assumption despite my better judgment.
“I will,” he declares as if to shatter that hope. “No promise necessary.”
* * *
I wakeup to the sensation of peace, unlike any other. One so deep and so encompassing that I assume I’m dreaming at first. No one’s arms could possibly feel this safe. This warm. This comforting.
I open my eyes, expecting a fantasy realm of unicorns and ponies and other fantastical dreamworld things. Instead, I find a man so beautiful he can’t be real. My heart despairs until he opens his dark eyes, and his expression matches mine. Fearful with diminishing hope. There’s no way this can be real.
I snuggle into him, attempting to extend this moment for as long as I can only for him to stiffen. Gradually, his frown softens, his eyes losing their unease. I shiver as his fingers part my hair, smoothing through the strands as he sighs, utterly relaxed.
This may not be a dream, after all.
“Morning.”
