31
CORA
The moment I’m alone in my room, I tear my frilly dress off and kick it into the corner.
I feel filthy. Like I’ve spent the last two hours wallowing in the mud with pigs.
In a lot of ways, I have. Alexander, Mikhail, Konstantin—they’re all pigs. The only worth I have in their eyes is the ability to look pretty and procreate. They don’t care if I’m happy. They don’t give a shit if I’m fulfilled.
If the last two hours taught me anything, it’s that if I stay here, I’ll end up like my mother. A weak, simpering woman clinging to the arm of a heartless bastard.
I go into my ensuite bathroom and scrub the makeup off of my face. It takes two passes before the eyeliner and mascara is finally nothing more than a slight smudge around my eyes. Usually, I’d try again, but what does it matter? Who is going to see me? No one I care about impressing.
When I’m done, I pad back into my empty room, grateful to be alone. But still, I wish I was somewhere else. With someone else.
It’s me. Use this phone if you need it. I’m here.
Ivan’s text pops into my mind at the same moment I see my dress crumpled in the corner.
The rest of the dinner was such a nightmare that I almost forgot about the phone he sent me. I hurry across the room and dig through the swaths of fabric before I feel the piece of plastic.
I rest back on my ankles and open the phone. My message to Ivan is still in the text box unsent.
Don’t forget about me, Ivan. Don’t leave me here. Thank you for this, but please come—
All of those same feelings still burn inside of me, crying out for anyone to hear. But now, there is something else, too. A need.
I delete the message and draft a new one.
I wish you were here. Right now. In my bed.
I send the message and then scramble back onto my mattress, waiting for his reply. I don’t have to wait long.
Say more.
My fingers tingle with anticipation. Do you remember that bag of sex toys you made me buy? I ask.
Of course I remember.
My body remembers, too. A shiver works its way down my spine. I remember trying to chase the ache inside of me, trying to get Ivan out of my head, only for him to show up in my shower. I can still feel the way he shifted behind me. The way his body fit against my curves. He brought me to the brink with his hands and the toy and the raw sexuality that no one else on earth can hold a candle to.
I blow out a shaky breath. I want you to tie me to your bed and use them on me.
I send the message before I can doubt myself. For the first time in days, the walls of my room disappear. The cage around me falls away and I float off somewhere else.
I stare at the screen, waiting for his text. Instead, the phone rings.
As soon as I accept the call, the deep timbre of his voice cuts through the silence. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want them to hear you.”
My mouth is already half-opened, but I close it.
“Cora,” he breathes. Even the way he says my name is foreplay. I feel the vibration of it in my toes. “Slide your hand between your legs.”
My heart jolts. I grip the phone tighter. Sexting was one thing, but hearing Ivan say all these dirty things right in my ear is different. I’m not sure if I’m ready for—
“Stay quiet,” he reminds me, as if he can read my thoughts. “And let me make you feel good.”
I blink back the sudden threat of tears. No one seems to care about what I want or need.
Except Ivan.
He cares.
So I let him.
I slide my hand between my legs, curling my palm over my heat.
“Run your middle finger over your slit.”
I listen, my breath hitching as I follow his orders.
“I love that sound,” he growls. “I love when you fall apart just a little bit for me. Push your panties to the side and do it again.”
It’s my own hand moving my panties to the side and dipping into my arousal, but it feels different. I’m at Ivan’s mercy. I’m frozen, waiting for his next direction, aching for him to let me go further.
“You’re wet, aren’t you?” He hums like he knows the answer. “Circle your clit, Cora.”
I gasp again, shocked at the jolt of pleasure that shoots through me. Ivan moans, too. The fact he’s enjoying my pleasure makes it so much better.
“Keep going,” he says. “Don’t stop touching yourself. I wouldn’t. If you were in my bed, I would wrap your legs around my head the way I did in that bathroom. I would lick you and suck until you were quivering. Are you quivering, Cora?”
I nod, my breath catching with a gasp in my throat.
“Good girl. Touch yourself for me, Cora. Take what you want. Take what you deserve.”
He’s breathing heavily in the phone. I imagine his hot breath on my neck. On my breasts. I imagine Ivan’s familiar weight on top of me.
There are so few reasons to feel good in my life as it currently stands. So few moments that belong exclusively to me.
But this moment does.
This is mine and I’m going to take it.
I arch my back with a gasp. “Like that,” Ivan encourages. “Don’t stop.”
So I don’t. I keep circling and stroking until the heat blooming in my core flares and then explodes. Tendrils of it expand to my fingertips and my toes. I feel my heartbeat between my legs, pulsing and thrumming with life.
I whimper with the effort it takes not to cry out.
Ivan groans in my ear. I hope he’s finding release, too. I wish I could talk to him. I wish I could take him to the same place I am.
“Fuck, Cora,” he pants. “You are… You’re incredible. My solnishka. My little sun in the darkness.”
I’ve never gone from arousal to tears quite so quickly before, but I sniffle and swipe at my eyes.
“You’re going to get out of there,” he says softly. “Captivity is nothing but a state of mind.”
It’s been impossible to latch onto hope the last few days. But hearing how much Ivan believes in me, I can’t help but believe in me, too.
I will get out of here.
No matter what happens, I’ll get out of here.
Or I’ll die trying.
* * *
I wake up to a crash. I’m out of bed and on my feet before my mind can catch up to what my body is doing.
There was a bang. A loud bang.
And voices.
I blink into the dim light filtering through my curtains and see people moving into my room.
“What is it?” I rasp. “What is going—”
Someone clicks on the lamp next to my bed. I hiss away from the sudden brightness.
“Come on, Cordelia. It’s time to go.” I don’t need my vision to know that is my mother’s voice.
“Mom?” My eyes are starting to adjust. I can see Alexander standing in the hallway. He has his hands folded behind his back, his eyes cast towards the stairs. “What’s going on? What is—Is everything okay?”
She moves towards me, reaching for my arm. “We’ll talk about it. You just need to come with—”
“No!” I jerk back, smacking into the wall behind me.
She lowers her head, brows pinched. “Cordelia, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“Make what harder? I don’t even understand what is happening! Why are you here?”
My mom opens her mouth to respond, but another voice cuts in. “If you can’t control your daughter, then I will.” Mikhail steps into my room, and I swear a dark cloud of sulfur rolls in behind him.
I’m wearing a cotton t-shirt and flannel shorts, but I might as well be naked for how exposed I feel. I wrap my arms around myself. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I go where I want.” He holds out a hand. “Come with me or I’ll have to make you.”
I recoil from his touch. “Alexander, this is your house. You can’t—Tell him to leave.”
I hate that I’m turning to my stepfather for any help, but he’s the only one who can stop this. I know the relationship between him and the Sokolovs is all fucked-up. Maybe if I can poke at that connection, he’ll stop whatever this is.
“It’s late, Cordelia,” he sighs. “Don’t be difficult.”
I didn’t know I still had the capacity to be shocked by these people, but here I am. I’m stunned. There’s no humanity in them. No empathy.
“I don’t even know where I’m going. Someone tell me what’s happening!”
Maybe if they tell me what is going on, I can stop it. Maybe I can get out of this.
But even as the thought crosses my mind, something inside of me knows it isn’t true.
“It’s actually great news.” Mikhail smiles. Silver moonlight glints off of his teeth, turning them into fangs. “You and I are getting married. Tonight.”