Twisted Throne (Bratva Born #2)

5. Adriana

Adriana

I don’t know what delights Barnaby has in store for me, but I’m terrified. My overly familiar maids have bathed me and oiled me, and now they have told me to lie naked on a massage table.

A new woman is in the room, dressed differently. She’s tall, striking, and has a calm, almost serene air about her. Is she another maid? A new one?

I’m trembling all over, terrified that Barnaby is going to force himself on me.

He enters the room and walks over to the table. I’m laid face down, my head turned to the side, and he stands on my other side, so I can’t see him.

I tense as a finger trails down my body from between my shoulder blades to the top of my ass, just stopping where my back dips.

“I will be just a moment,” he says and exits the room.

When he’s gone, the new maid leans down and whispers in my ear. “Barnaby likes to play, and he likes to touch, but he also really likes to watch. Let me make you feel good for him, and he will be satisfied with that for now. All you must do is close your eyes and think of that man you’re obsessed with.”

“What man?” I say, instantly not wanting them to know anything about me.

She laughs softly. “I can tell there’s someone. Think of him. Let me make this look good, and Barnaby, he’ll be satisfied for now. I’m called Larissa, and I’m part of your training, but I can make it good and keep him from touching you as long as I can. It gives you time, and there are people making plans.”

“Plans? And you’re helping, why?” I whisper. I can’t trust her; surely this is a trap.

“Because I was once where you are, and whilst I can’t afford to make an enemy of a man like him, I can use my wiles to give you space and time. He likes … he likes a struggle, though.” Her voice is so whisper soft it’s as if her words just appear in my mind, bypassing my ears. “Make him think you don’t want me to touch you, and then let him think you’ve given in, been beaten, and then give him your orgasm. Let him watch, and then I’ll send in two of my girls to work the rest of it out of him. I’ll say we can’t push you too far. He’ll leave you alone for at least two days after this. That’s his pattern. He can’t do it every day anymore; he’s not a young man now.” She laughs softly.

Then she steps away from me and stands with her hands behind her back. Barnaby walks back into the room.

“Are you ready for me to begin, sir?” she asks. “I did offer to massage her, but she said no. She doesn’t want a woman touching her. Shall I show her how little control she has over her responses … as a lesson, while you watch.”

“I might enjoy doing that myself,” Barnaby says, and my stomach lurches.

“Of course, sir, whatever you wish. I didn’t mean to over step. I only thought it keeps the anticipation going for you. Like a fine wine that you don’t wish to taste just yet because it is being saved until it’s just perfect.”

He chuckles. “I do like to watch; it is true.”

“You could always watch us together and then paint her with your seed. Anoint her flesh for the first time with it.”

His breathing quickens, and I bite back the desire to scream. If he touches me, I swear I’ll bite his thing off.

“That sounds like a most excellent plan,” he says. Then his voice deepens, and he sounds like someone else. “Get her primed, and keep her on edge. Give her nipples extra attention, they are beautiful, and then make her come so hard she can’t believe it.”

“Of course, sir.”

She bends down and smooths the hair from my face. “You’re about to get your first lesson.”

She bites the shell of my ear gently and whispers so softly only I can hear. “It’s only a job to me. You aren’t betraying your man, and you aren’t being violated by Barnaby. It’s just a massage.”

“What are you saying?” Barnaby demands.

“I’m telling her she won’t believe the things her body will feel.”

“Loud enough for us all to hear please, Larissa.”

“Yes, sir,” she says.

Then it begins, and at first, I’m so tense and scared, but she’s right—it is just a massage. And she’s so very good at it. I know it will become something more at some point, but her doing this and it being just a job does make a huge difference. I know he’s watching from the corner like some seedy toad squatting there, taking it all in, but I find I can detach and let myself stay calm.

Cade needs me in one piece, and I have a whole life to live. If I can buy time by letting this clever woman take the lead with my so-called training for a while, then all the better.

She’s right that there’s another man but wrong that he’s the reason I don’t want Barnaby to touch me. Barnaby makes me recoil in revulsion, and being touched by him would be a violation. Being massaged by Larissa isn’t, and I decide there and then that I give my consent for this. He can’t fucking force me and debase me if I already consent.

Feeling like I’ve taken back some power, I let myself float in the relaxing rhythm of her touch.

She spends a hell of a long time working on my shoulders, loosening them and working the knots out. I know she’s trying to relax me for what is coming soon. Her care for me and her clever hands slowly begin to build a real response in me. As she sweeps her hands lower and caresses over the top of my ass, I shiver.

She kneads my ass cheeks and spreads them apart, and I can feel the cool air against my lips and know when she kneads my cheeks I am being exposed.

Stopping suddenly, she tells me to turn onto my front. I do as she says, and she begins the massage all over again on my front. She massages everywhere but any erotic areas, but eventually she moves closer and closer to my breasts. When she finally begins to massage them, I turn my head to the side, ashamed that I’m reacting, nipples stiff.

“It’s natural,” she murmurs.

Her clever fingers pull my nipples, peaking them, and making me squirm. She spends ages on my breasts, oiling them up, massaging the flesh, circling my areola and then pinching my nipples, over and over again in a maddening cycle. Soon, I know I’m wet down there, and I’m having to swallow down moans.

She pulls my nipples at the same time, shaking them a little and making my breasts jiggle. Then she shocks me when she slaps the side of my breasts gently, just enough to make them shake.

Going back to my nipples she pinches and soothes, pinches and soothes, and then she keeps one hand working my right breast while her other hand smooths down my stomach, and, oh Lord, slides between my lips and gently caresses my clit.

Her touch is so deft. Maybe only another woman can know how to be so gentle and yet make a woman feel on the edge of coming within moments of her fingers playing with my pussy.

She spreads my lips a little wider and places two fingers either side of my clit as she slides them up and down, massaging it.

I know I’m going to come. I can feel it cresting, and although I hate to do it in front of Barnaby, I tell myself this is not for him—this is for me. I consent, and this is a way to buy myself time. And, I tell myself, relax a little in the process too.

She squeezes my clit just a little tighter, and I shatter. I buck up against her hand and with a long, shaking moan, I come.

“Yes,” Barnaby hisses.

He stands and rushes over to the massage bed, peering intently at my pussy as Larissa works me through the orgasm. Shame coats me, and I feel as if I’ve betrayed Dimitri even though we never made any promises to one another. Still, I hate that my body has betrayed me in this way.

Barnaby is hastily unzipping his fly,

“Now, I will get mine,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Do you want to come on her, sir, or show her how you like to be swallowed down? I can do that,” Larissa says. “Let the girl see what will be expected of her.”

He grunts. “Yes, fine. Good idea. Get on your knees, Larissa.”

She does as he says, and he grabs her hair and thrusts hard and fast into her mouth. Watching this is surreal. My best friend’s dad. The man I fondly thought of as family is fucking this poor woman’s mouth as if she’s nothing but a receptacle for his depraved desire.

I owe her. She suggested this so he wouldn’t do things to me, or worse.

He comes with a moan, and my mind detaches from it all. I think of Cade and where we will live when I get free, and I imagine a different world where I can be the mistress of my own destiny, instead of a pawn in so many people’s games.

Larissa stands and wipes her mouth, and I notice she presses a bracelet on her wrist. The door opens, and three stunning young women enter.

“Why don’t we let Snow White here rest?” She trails a finger down Barnaby’s arm. “She has had a start to her training, and we don’t want to push too far too fast.”

“She hasn’t been punished yet,” Barnaby argues.

Larissa laughs. “Oh, Barnaby. I think being forced to orgasm in front of you is much more of a punishment than any whipping.”

His face darkens as his cheeks and neck flush with arousal. “It was delicious, wasn’t it? Yes, a fitting start. I knew she’d be responsive,” he says as if I’m not in the room.

“Let her rest, and come play with us.”

Barnaby nods. He strokes himself, and I glance down and stare in shock when I realize he’s hard again.

The girls grab him, giggling as they lead him from the room.

I’m shaken, disgusted, and so lonely right now.

“It’s the drugs,” Larissa says, matter of fact. “He takes them, screws for hours, and then can’t get it up for days. I can only keep him from you for so long.” Then she comes to me and kisses my ear and as she does, she whispers in it again. “I’m never sure where there might be ears in the walls. There is help coming. Keep the hope up, and keep your temper in check. The less you make him angry, the less he’s going to get riled up and want to do this kind of thing. Act contrite, and … try to make him feel protective of you if you can. He has a daddy thing. If you can bring that side of him out, but reinforce you aren’t ready for anything sexual, he might find that titillating enough.”

“I don’t know how to do so, or what that means in practice,” I whisper back.

“Act like an innocent, na?ve young woman and make him be all protective and guiding and caring.”

“Is there really help coming?” My words are so low I don’t know if she can hear them.

“There is. Or, at least, they are trying. Hold on.”