Titania
I squint in the room's dimness, still seeing nothing at all. The dangerous stranger's hand hovers mere centimetres away from my temple which is torn slightly open and bleeding, thanks to his con assistant. It takes seconds for my eyes to focus, but it seems like hours. My heart pounds at his words. His subtle threat in them.I move my hands over the broad, black expanse in front of me. It's solid, and well-built like a brick wall; the chest of a strong man. His abs are carved to perfection behind the dark suit jacket and the rest of his body ripped all the way down. I don't dare look up to see his shimmering blue eyes watching me intently. I've never been this close up with a man I don't know - not even the uncomfortable male customers at the café got this far into my personal space. The thought of that terrifies me. He's a stiff wall of muscle and he exudes raw, unfiltered power.Instinctively, I inhale, curious to know what he smells like. The smell of his aftershave is pleasant and intoxicating, causing me to hold the sides of my head as a slight dizziness rocks my brain. His hands slid cautiously around my waist, holding me firmly in place. I swallow, still not looking up, feeling vulnerable and bare. I wrap my fingers around me to steady myself but his hands still don't move away. I feel trapped, like a cornered animal, praying not to get hurt.When I eventually look up and take in his chiselled jaw - one that could cut through steel - I suck in a deep breath and admit that I'm screwed. I have a thing for men with chiseled jaws. They turn me on. Neat, trimmed stubble is splattered generously over the sharp line of his jaw, and above his upper lip he had shaved off his moustache completely but the dark shadow was still there. His hair was a stunning blond - almost fiery golden. I take my time before meeting his eyes because I'm aware of the instant spell they'll have on my entire being. His face is smooth, spotless like a baby's, except for a little scar in the form of a thick black hole on his left temple. An obvious imperfection that made all other perfection even more perfect, if that makes sense.At last our eyes lock, and I blink in disbelief at how surreal they look. Deeper than the deep blue sea, more beautiful than the skies on a sunny day, his eyes have me transfixed, hot and bothered. There's no doubt that there's an unmistakable edge in them - a sinister sharpness which only draws me further in, than keep me away. I've always been attracted to brooding men with an intimidating aura and he fit into all those boxes without a hitch."I'm still waiting for a response, Titania," he tilts his head to the side, his eyes dropping to my breasts. I shudder when his tongue swipes out to wet his bottom lip unconsciously. Painful imaginations of what my life would look like after the thirty days are up flashes through my mind. Standing by and let him put a bullet through my uncle's skull wasn't even an alternative to be considered. I'll prefer he rather shoot me first than harm Uncle Patrick."I don't have anything else to say as I've accepted your propositions."He nods slowly, dragging his eyes from my bosom to my face. I avert my gaze, unable to look at him any further. My cheeks are burning under his heated stare. Goodness knows I'll probably be limping around by day thirty.Then it hit me. I've sold my soul to him. I've already said yes to a man I barely even know.My eyes shift back to Uncle Patrick who's watching with a scarred expression as though he wants to vomit. "Can you let him go, now?"He huffs and makes a circular motion I don't recognize with his hand. The dark-haired goon who'd knocked me out hauls Uncle Patrick up from his seat and pushes him forward, causing him to stumble and fall face flat on the wooden floor. I turn sharply to the man. "You said you won't hurt him," I say in a cracked voice.He only makes a scoffing sound as the goon pulls my uncle up and hoist him out the door, his equally hung companion following closely."What are you doing? You said you'd let him go!" I howl."And I will, princess," his jaw ticks. "Just as soon as the thirty days are up, you can have your sweet uncle all to yourself. Until then, he's under my supervision."I wipe away my tears. That makes perfect sense. He's afraid that if he lets Uncle Patrick go, he might involve the police and have them come after me. Smart man."It's Christian, isn't it?" I say in a voice barely audible enough for him to hear it. However, since his eyes are forever trained on my face, he catches the words from my lips."Kristoff."Oh my. One thing is for sure, he's nothing like the Kristoff I know in Frozen."Do you think he's worth it?" the devil whispers, bringing his fingers up to brush over my lips, over the edges, dragging them down to my chin. "He might be your uncle. But that doesn't change the fact that he's a pussy.""He's family. He means a lot to me.""Family pushes us to do a lot of things we aren't sure of. Family can be selfish sometimes. I don't still think you know what you've just gotten yourself into," he licks his lips once more, slowly this time. "I'm not a gentleman on bed. My hunger for you is ravenous."Suppressing the disgusting urge to crush my lips against his, I look away and murmur bravely. "I can take whatever shit you bring onto the table. As long as my uncle is safe, I'll do anything.""Even trade your own life?" he raises a brow, awe-strucked.I nod. "Yes. He gave his life to save mine, many years ago. I won't stop loving him no matter what offenses he commits. That's the true definition of family."The goons enter now, without Uncle Patrick. "All clear, Sir. We've taken him in.""Perfect," Kristoff whirls away from me. "Take her to the mansion and put her in a bedroom, with Ally as her supervisor. Tell Ally to treat her head and give her a bath.""Can I bring some of my clothes along?" I ask, even though I know I won't be needing them. I might as well dress in only white lace panties the entire thirty days, what difference does it make?Kristoff shakes his head. "There won't be any use for your rags," he snaps his fingers. "Take her away.""But..."I'm astonished at how quickly everything seems to be happening. Taking a step forward, the first goon pulls my arms and lock my wrists in a death grip behind me. I feel his eyes burn holes at the back of my head as I try not to kick backwards."Careful, Peter," Kristoff warns.The goon nods, bending to pick up my shirt from the floor. He lets go of my wrists and helps me out it on, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Oh, how I wish to knock him out so bad. "There," he says gruffly, his voice a tad bit more huskier than Kristoff but not as strong."You can't even give me a day to process things before locking me up in your house?""I'm not taking any chances of you bailing out on our agreement.""But you have my uncle for God's sake!""And you might bring in the police, and even though I have a lot of connections in the task force, I can't risk the added scandal," he urges me forward. "Now be a decent little girl and shut the fuck up. His face breaks into a sly smile, "you'll need the energy later while we study bedmatics."I scrunch my nose up in disgust, my insides churning at his words. Out on the hallway, I'm dumfounded to see tall, huge men with shades lined up on both sides of the corridor, their stiff postures almost robotic. These are dangerous men, and Kristoff is even more dangerous and powerful than I initially thought. He's their leader, no doubt.Oh my god. What in hell have I agreed to? What if Kristoff kills me after the agreed thirty days and hides my body? How can I trust his words that Uncle Patrick is safe?At the top of the stairs, Peter stops and Kristoff steps forward with the wet blindfold, wanting to secure it over my eyes."Why?" I ask, touching the cloth and wishing to throw it on the floor. "Please let me at least see where you're taking me to.""You agreed to my terms, Titania," he sighs, his tone annoyed. "Therefore I'm the one calling the shots. I'm not abducting you, if you must know. And I don't care if you don't trust me."I open my mouth to argue, then close it. This is pointless. I don't want to make him upset."Attagirl," he says when my hands fall back to my sides.I roll my eyes and his smirk is the last thing I see before my vision is obstructed by a thick spool of black. With each step down the stairs, my heart pounds as though I'm being led to my execution and I grip the battered handrails for support. When I stumble against my foot, he whips out a hand to catch my arm, and steadies me. I listen attentively but I don't hear a sound. The neighbours are supposed to be back home by now. Or did Kristoff scare them away? Did he kill them?Fuck. So many questions.I try not to break down in tears. I can't take Kristoff's words that Uncle Patrick is at fault to heart. I know my uncle. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't steal.But I had seen the passports in the wardrobe while arranging my stuff last night, so that means Kristoff isn't lying either. Does it mean I don't know my uncle at all?Someone is playing shady games here, and I'm now the culprit. I need to find answers to my questions fast, and before the thirty days are up.TitaniaOutside, I rub my chilly arms while waiting for Kristoff's orders. He barks a command to Peter and a few minutes later, I hear an engine running. Someone wraps a thick, black coat around me, the smell of aftershave filling my nostrils. Kristoff's husky voice sounds so dangerously low, as his cool breath washes over my earlobe. “We'll be home soon.”I hear the car engine die down, yelping as I'm being lifted off the ground, over a strong shoulder. The blindfold falters slightly, enabling me to catch a glimpse of the muddy puddle directly underneath my head. I grip Kristoff's rough forearm instinctively, trying to find a comfortable balance. Car doors pull open and I'm hoisted onto a plush, leather seat and pushed to the extreme, Kristoff coming in after me and the door slamming shut. I take a deep breath and breathe in the mix of new leather and Kristoff's aftershave. There's no doubt about it. We're in his car.“Will you at least tell me where you kept my uncle? I'm scared.” I
KristoffIt's a quarter past nine when I get back to the mansion, upset and a bit drunk. After I had rallied a few men to try and get more information out of Patrick, and also task some secret spies with observing my insufferable uncle, I decide to pay my dearest step mom and brother a friendly visit.My father married Lucille shortly after my mother passed away. Lucille was her best friend and half sister, and had been shamelessly having an affair with father without mother knowing. When she finally found out, she filed for a divorce and months later, they were separated. In remorse, he cut off all ties with Lucille and tried to get back with mother but she was adamant on getting back together with him. Father never had a good grip on his anger. One thing led to another and he accidentally pushed mother down a flight of stairs in the middle of a heated argument, causing her skull to crack and she breathed her last on the spot.I was a little boy then so you could imagine the trauma I
KristoffCora: You coming over to Astro's tonight?"Shit," I cuss, almost driving over the edge of the circular water fountain. Pulling into the garage at the eastern part of the mansion, I take off my seatbelt and tap the phone screen hurriedly.Cora: *sent a photo*Reluctantly, I sigh and input my password, navigate to my WhatsApp, and click on Cora's chat head. The picture pops up immediately; it's her tits – big, bare, and inviting. On any other day, I would've been turned on and possibly jerk off to it later.Cora: You in for it, baby boy?"Sir?" Peter taps my window from outside, drawing my attention. I turn the phone screen down and slip it into my pocket as I got out of the car.Without waiting for him to speak, I ask. "How's she doing?""Not, bad," he shrugs nonchalantly, but I notice the creased lines on his forehead. We start walking toward the mansion's entrance. "The minute you left, she locked the door, preventing Ally from coming in.""Where the hell was the both of you
Kristoff“Enough!” my vision goes blood red and everything changes at that moment. The glass in my hand shatters, and I feel the sharp shards cut through my palm, blood trickling out hurriedly, the liquor mixing with it, making it sting so much. She screams and jumps away from me, and I straighten calmly to go after her as she sprints down the hallway toward her room, barely looking back.I stalk after her, each steps thoughtful and deliberate – intense. I loathe her words. I loathe that she’s become my weakness. If she can insult my dear, deceased mother and is still breathing, then that shows I’ve gone soft. I hate that no matter what I can’t hurt her. I hate it.She lets out a strangled sound as she slips into her room. I jog a few meters and insert my foot in between just like I had done earlier, preventing her from slamming the door shut. This time around, she doesn’t struggle but backs away, stumbling over the edge of the bed and falling onto the sheets, her legs kicking at me w
TitaniaHours later, I woke up with a dry mouth and a splitting headache. A glance at the wall clock hanging on the wall tells me it's five AM already, almost twenty-two hours since I ate a donut at the café.I groan as I push up my butt so I can rest my back against the bed's headboard. I rub my temples slowly, the events of last night replying like a disc in my head. How did I fall asleep despite my fear? I rise from my bed, straighten my top, and waltz to the window to take a peek outside. The sky is still a midnight blue, thunder rumbles, the rain pelting harder. I run back to my bed and jump in, covering myself with the blanket. Thunder terrifies me. It scares me so much that as a child, Uncle Patrick had no option but to let me sleep with him in his bed on nights when thunderstorms were prominent.Uncle Patrick. God. He's like the father I never had. The father who never left.Pushing away the intense feeling of sadness threatening to envelop me, I saunter over to the bathroom t
KristoffTwenty minutes later, as I consult my watch impatiently, wondering if I should go up and get her myself, Titania strolls down the hallway into the living room. I see she's picked out a black, thin, spaghetti-strapped dress that stops just above her knee and cool wedge slippers. Her face is dry, but her lips are shimmering with gloss, her roundish head framed by her beautiful, black hair that she's tied back into a neat bun. It gets a little hard to sit still as I want to make her turn around so badly and get a good view of her arse, which I'm damn sure is barely hidden by the tight dress that accentuates her soft curves and tits. Even without the slightest makeup, she's still fucking gorgeous. Without even trying to impress me, she still has my cock in a chokehold.She shivers as my eyes roam down her tits to her knees, then back up to her face, a crooked smile working its way up my face. Ally comes out from the kitchen and wordlessly takes the tray of fruits I've barely touc
KristoffWe stay a while in traffic without any conversation afterward. Titania sits, rigid, as my hands roam over her knees, squeezing her inner thighs, my eyes on her face, testing her. She shuts her eyes, holding her breath, clenching and unclenching her fists. A car hoots behind us and I rev up the engine, meandering down the road, Bloom's Bazaar's familiar tower looming straight up ahead, causing my stomach to churn with fright.My fear comes alive and I almost turn back, but something stops me. I don't know what it is, but I'm sure it's not just Titania. It's something nagging at the back of my mind, urging me to keep driving and don't stop, and I don't try to argue with it. My knuckles turn white as I grip the steering wheel harder, whirling past black, huge gated mansions spread farther and farther out as I approached Bloom Bazaar. Titania's eyes sift across the road, attentive. I get a feeling she's trying to figure out where exactly we are, or perhaps, memorizing the road.M
TitaniaIt feels like weeks before I hear Kristoff's firm footfalls as he approaches my designated room. After the guard left, I'd taken a cursory glance around, my skin crawling at how horribly effeminate everything looked. The bedroom was essentially pink-themed, which gave me a hint that Kristoff must've been preparing for this visit since the moment he struck the deal.Before the door creaks open, I straighten, reaching for my coat quickly and wrapping it around me. I glance up at him, his hard, smoky gaze that was unreadable. He's the epitome of power; strong like an inferno. His beautiful black suit is gone and is now replaced with blue beach shorts and a white T-shirt with all the buttons popped open, displaying the dark, inked tattoos on his broad, hairless chest. His forearms were covered in tattoos as well, and now as he flexes them, I can't seem to look away.This is it. What I've been mentally preparing myself ever since we got here. I try to convince myself that I'm not a