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Well, this was new. Something she’d been trained for, but didn’t actually expect to happen; she’d been kidnapped. Чертов ад. The lack of light enhanced her other senses; the metal of the cuffs that bound her to a similarly cool metal chair squeezed her wrists just enough to keep her on edge. Eloise kept her breathing steady, however, and she braced for whatever lurked in the darkness.
“How did you sleep, capreae?” The smooth drawl of an English accent flooded her ears, and she winced at the pet name. Whoever the man was knew her in some capacity, and dread filled her body. She scowled in the dark, not giving him the satisfaction of a response.
She heard the flick of a light switch, and she groaned at the blinding shift. One bright bulb rested above her chair in cliché fashion, and she scoffed. A few others flickered on in each corner of the boxy room
“Is this an interrogation?” she finally asked, aching to rub her eyes. They adjusted quickly, and she scanned her surroundings for the man. A tall, mustached fuck stood leaned against the dull drywall to her right, regarding her with an uncomfortable intensity. She shifted in her seat.
“Consider this firstly an introduction.” He walked towards her slowly, a sly grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “Although, I believe, nimfa, we are already well acquainted.” Her stomach dropped and she swallowed hard. He knew her mother…but how?
“Tatyana is—was—” His correction was calculated, merely used as a jab at her mother’s current state. She would’ve laughed at him, had she not been so confused. “A…friend of mine.”
He emphasized ‘friend’, though his implications were fuzzy. He made no further comment on it.
“I will say, zajka,” he remarked, “is almost if she now sits before me, back from her…little sentence.”
“Do not speak of my mother,” she snapped, breaking their eye contact. It was one thing for Eloise to speak ill of the undead, but it was another completely for a stranger to mock her mother.
“Ah, feisty, just as she was.” He chuckled lowly, before pulling a chair up in front of her. The metal scrape against the floor made her wince and sent a chill down her spine. She shook her head; she wasn’t entirely sure at what.
“What is this?” she inquired, failing to mask the growing fury in her tone, “Surely you did not bring me here to poke fun at my mother.”
He laughed at her statement, although Eloise couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was funny about it.
“I thought it was time for us to finally meet one another.” His eyes traced over her body, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming at him.“And?” she said dryly, clenching her jaw tightly.
“And I wanted to hear just how gruesome your screams are.”
She almost laughed in his face.
“I wouldn’t give you the pleasure,” Eloise seethed. His eyes narrowed, and his smile grew wider. He stood from his chair, kneeling beside her.
“You will, kiska,” he uttered, pressing his lips close to her ear. She shuddered, jerking from his touch, but with nowhere to go. Ебать.
He chuckled at her responses, before standing once again. He walked back to his chair, and she let out a long breath.
“You still have yet to tell me why I am being held here.”
He immediately turned on his heel. “Oh? Have I not?”
“Taunting will get you nowhere,” she spat, before realizing she still had no idea who he was. She knew she had to ask her next question carefully.
“What… what were you to my mother?” As much as she didn’t want to bring her back into the conversation, Eloise concluded it was her only ticket to discovering that fuck’s name.
“I thought I’d disclosed already that she was a…good friend of mine.” The smirk on his face suggested otherwise.
“That is not an answer, I’m afraid,” she stated, studying his face.
“Like I said, nimfa—” She noted he was observant; he read body language well and
deduced that of his pet names, нимфа was the one that irked her the most. “We are already
well acquainted. It is just only now I get to see you in person.”
He began circling her, and she rolled her eyes at his cliché methods of intimidation.
“My, how you’ve grown capreae.” She looked over her shoulder at him.
“You said we’ve never met before.”
His laugh filled her body, and she looked down at the floor.
“We have not, my sweet. But I have watched you for years, now.”
A Zion-like statement escaped her in response. “That’s not fucking creepy.”
He did not find that as funny as she did. Speaking of which, where was Zion? And Clara? Her heart panged thinking of Philip in a similar predicament. She knew the others could handle it, they had before, but Philip? He was still soft, still good. She bit back a sob.
“Oh?”
She looked up at him. He now stood a few feet away, regarding her with mock intrigue.“Whatever seems to plague you, kiska?” If нимфа weren’t so personal, киска would irk her the most. It was the most demeaning of the names he’d called her, and her face flushed red.
“Ohohoh,” he chuckled, pulling his chair as close as he could to her. He sat down, spreading his legs to make room for her, before reaching out to her hips. She squeezed her arms tightly as to not let him touch her, but it only helped his movements. He lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands, still bound to the chair behind her, pulled her arms backwards, forcefully arching her back. She cursed in three different languages under her breath and looked over her shoulder, trying to avoid his gaze. He tutted, however, and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. His hands were rough on her jaw. He pulled at her lip with his thumb before clicking his tongue.
“I have to say, nimfa, I expected more of a fight from you.” He watched her intensely, taking note of the fury that flashed across her features.
“Not like I had much of a choice, yebar.”
His chuckle was becoming irritating. Did he find everything amusing?
“Mmm, you’re so pretty like this,” he hummed, his eyes and hands wandering down her front and to the curve of her hips. She squirmed under his touch, which only amused him further. He pulled her closer to him, suddenly gripping her hair and inhaling deeply.
“I wonder what you sound like in ecstasy.”
Okay, that was it. She decided she was going to kill him. First, though, she had to get out of her cuffs.
Unfortunately, she could only think of one way.
She moaned.
He pulled away quickly, before smiling slyly.
“My, my, kiska, what pretty noises you make.”
She made a mental note to kill herself afterwards.
Again, he chuckled, before pushing her hair past her shoulders. “What to do with you, nimfa…”
She swallowed hard, swallowed her pride, and flushed with pitiful embarrassment.
“I have some ideas…” She looked at him through her lashes, and his eyes lowered.
“And what might those be, sweet one?”
She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his ear.
“Why don’t you uncuff me and find out?” She filled her voice with seduction and puffed her chest out slightly. (IDFK)
To her dismay, he fucking laughed at her.“Oooo, nice try, kiska,” he said, tracing her jaw with his fingers, “but you’ll have to do better than that.”
Her heart dropped. It became much harder to keep her breathing steady. He trailed his hand down her neck, sticking his pointer finger in the neckline of her button up.
“Stop,” she hissed. He shook his head and clicked his tongue.
“Where would be the fun in that? You have already made such beautiful sounds for me, nimfa, and I am simple man. I simply must hear more.”
She held her breath as he began unbutton her shirt. She looked up at the ceiling, ignoring the tears that stung her eyes.
“My, my, little zajka, you came prepared. Is this all for me?” His fingers fumbled with the lace near her sternum, and she had to exhale.
She hated this.
Mostly.
That’s what she hated the most, really: was that he was fucking fine. Philip would understand, right? Or, better yet: she didn’t have to tell him. Besides, it’s not like she could stop it if she wanted to. And unfortunately, she didn’t really want to.
He pulled the remainder of her shirt over her shoulders and out of his way. The chill in the air was much more apparent against her skin. He eyed her hungrily, drinking in her body like a madman.
“Oh, how blessed you are, sweet one,” he uttered, running his big hands over her hips.
She groaned, becoming ever more aware of the painful arch in her back.
“That one’s new,” he cooed, grasping her ass, earning a gasp from her lips. He chuckled lowly, before moving his hands back up her torso. Running his fingers along her waist, she felt in utter horror as her stomach flipped with arousal. She squeezed her eyes shut, looking up at the ceiling.
He did not like that. He grasped her chin roughly and forced her to look at him. He considered her a moment, before pulling once more at her bottom lip. And Eloise suddenly had a phenomenal idea.
Some things are the simplest things in the world. For example, when she licked at the pad of his thumb, his eyes darkened (whatever the fuck that means). And when she began to suck lightly on his finger, a guttural sound resounded in his throat. His right hand traced over her breast, pressing hard with his thumb on her nipple. She moaned around his thumb, an uncomfortable slick forming between her thighs.
He ran his fingers back over the lace clad on her chest.“Did you wear this for him, kiska?” he asked, leaning forward in his seat, his breath hot on her face. She shuddered.
“I…wore this for me,” she breathed, only partially lying. The man chuckled lowly.
“Good,” he uttered, before ripping the thing clear off her body