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Cringing, I do tell him everything. My cheeks heat under my pale skin as I speak of my emotions. “I felt... broken and whole at once when he had sex with me anally. The sensations made me feel a bit head-drunk...
“...The next day, Char-Charlie kissed me on the mouth like he was in love with me or something. I-I was terrified,c?pMaksim. I didn't know whether to fight him off or not. You told me not too, so I-”
“What next?” he urges me to get to the good parts.
I'm almost green with embarrassment when I say Charlie had me please him with my mouth, that he would use his hands to stimulate me when he didn't go down on me.
I don't tell him about the deal we made—the deal where, if I put Charlie on his ass, he won't touch me—because that feels more private than the sexual intimacy between us.
“Did you like it when he made you orgasm?” Maksim says, his eyes tapering with wonder.
Silence, and I nod.
Maksim grinds his teeth. I can see his mind working overtime.
“How were your days when Charlie wasn't abusing you?” he says, running his tongue along his upper teeth. “Were you kept in one room? Did he let you out?”
“No. He didn't keep me locked up.” My voice softens when I speak of our friendly fights; when I explain how he took care of me. “He cooked me food—breakfast, lunch and dinner—and he ate with me. He always made sure I was okay.” I shrug. “Charlie was nice to me.”
There is another long pause where we look at each other, blue eyes to golden brown.
“You care about him,” Maksim says eventually. He's not asking. He knows.
I nod.
His expression drops, his eyes flashing with some emotion I've not seen on him before, and I'm not sure, but he almost looks... frightened? No... can't be. Why would he be frightened that I care about Charlie? If anything, he should be angry—ready and willing to belt me.
He doesn't.
Fondling with the collar of his shirt, he tries to straighten up in his chair, plastering on that iron stare he executes so well.
“Do you care abouthim!more than you do me?” he asks.
I don't know why, but I hesitate. All I can think about right now is how Charlie cuddled me, touched me, and kissed me.
I know I have to say something, so I tell Maksim, “No. I don't.”
My words don't affect him. I suspect he knows I'm lying. It's only a half lie. I care about Charlie in a different way compared to how I care about Maksim.
“What he did to you, Blaire, did it hurt?”
I visibly flinch as he uses my given name.
“Did it hurt more than anything I've ever done to you?” he says.
“No.” I look down at my hands in my lap. “Nothing hurt.”
“Not even when he fucked your ass? I find that hard to believe. You were a virgin there.”
“Um...” My stomach tightens with nerves. “I'm not sure. He... he prepared me.”
“How? How did he prepare you?” He's back on par, taking no prisoners. He wants to know every fucking factor. “You left those details out, didn't you?”
“He...” I gulp, blinking in the sight of my trainers—the trainers Charlie gave me this morning. “He used my orgasm for lubricant and fingered me for a while, starting with one finger, and then two...”
“How long until he took you?”
I'm tomato red. I can't look Maksim in the eyes.When is this going to be over?
