My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3)

by Michaels, Megan

  “Oh, would you be able to?” She had planned on taking him to a restaurant later that evening. This would be a pleasant surprise.

  “Definitely. I’ll see what you have in your cupboards and refrigerator and I’ll whip something up for you.” He stood slowly and gracefully from the sofa, buttoning his suit coat. His massive hand engulfed hers as he shook it.

  Whip.

  She’d love to see that large hand with a whip in it. What a delicious thought.

  “Sounds like a deal. Let me get Jason to bring the car around, and we’ll go to the penthouse.” She leaned over her desk, pressing the intercom. “Jason, can you come around, please? We’re ready to go home.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. On my way.” She flicked the intercom off, turning to find Maxim staring at her—and not at her face.

  “Are you staring at my ass?” Her eyebrows flew so high she swore they touched her forehead.

  Seriously?

  He smiled and winked at her, that little dimple showing on his cheek.

  “I’m telling you, Caroleena, your ass is perfect. There’s no need to change it. I was just reassessing my initial opinion.” He brushed past her, leaving her to follow in his wake, the scent of his cologne making her sex throb.

  “It’s Caroline!” she snapped at him.

  He didn’t even turn though, a deep chuckle his only reply as he continued toward the elevator.

  “See you soon, Samantha. You be good girl.” He patted the counter in front of Sammi as he sauntered by her.

  Clearly smitten by him, Samantha flushed and smiled back. “I will, Maxim. I look forward to seeing you too.”

  Lord.

  Somehow, the man had breezed into the room, and managed to get everyone practically falling at his feet — including her.

  She needed to watch his technique, and learn from the master.

  Chapter Four

  His manners would have him holding a hand to the small of her back, guiding her to the elevator, but his cock made that task impossible. Staring at her ass was unavoidable when she’d leaned over her desk to speak into the intercom.

  He visualized himself with a whip in his right hand, lashing that ample ass. He didn’t even have to see the pale, white skin striped with the pink lines to know how it would look. She had an ass made for the taking — be it fucking her from behind, anal, whipping, or just spanking it until it turned red. He’d be damned if he’d let her lose thirty pounds. That ass would dwindle before his eyes, not to mention what that weight loss would do to her breasts. Jesus, she’d been formed by the gods themselves. And now she wanted to single handedly destroy what had been made to worship!

  His dick had hardened as he’d watched her nervously shift from foot to foot. He imagined her sighing and mewling in arousal — and in pain — bent over a bench, his belt beating out a rhythm upon her vulnerable flesh. Her ass would jiggle with each thud of the leather, her cheeks tightening with every blow. He had needed to move before she saw his erection outlined through his suit pants. And although it would more than likely be hidden by his suit coat, he didn’t want to chance ruining this job. She’d forego his employment if she thought he had an erection at the sight of her this quickly.

  Samantha seemed like a nice girl. He’d have to grill her with questions, find out what Miss Caroleena did during the day, her eating habits, manners in general, demeanor, weaknesses, and strengths. Administrative assistants were a wealth of information and knew the ins and outs of their boss’ ways. He’d find out the information he needed to help her — in all areas of her life.

  He held the door open to the elevator, letting her pass him. She smelled of vanilla, amber and... something sweet. Orange, maybe. “That perfume is amazing. What are you wearing?”

  The door shut and she turned toward him, her gaze keen, assessing. “It’s Opium. It’s powerful, with a hint of feminine. I like it.”

  “I bet you do. That’s you wrapped up into essential oils.” He watched her reaction. Guarded. But she seemed to melt into the compliment. He’d work on her self-esteem. Odd that a woman that powerful with that much money would still be so insecure about herself.

  “Thank you, Maxim.” She paused at the door, then turned looked at him again. “You meant that as a compliment, right?”

  I’ll be damned.

  Why would she misinterpret something so simple? “Of course. What else would it be? Wait for me before going into the lobby.” The doors opened, and she stepped forward before he could grasp her elbow. He gently stopped her. “You need to learn how to accept compliments, follow directions, and be careful about your own safety.” He looked around the foyer, then saw Jason standing by her vehicle. “Come. Let’s go.” He guided her, his hand at the small of her back. Her very stiff back. She wasn’t pleased with him restraining her in even the smallest of ways, nor his mild censure.

  The nice sunny day had turned to a dreary, drizzly rain, typical for spring in New York. The weather was so variable in the fall and spring. You had to carry an umbrella with you most days, and you never went to lunch or dinner without it. It could change easily in an hour, all the local lakes and the proximity to the Atlantic Ocean making the weather unpredictable indeed.

  “I walk to my car every night. I know how to exit an elevator and make my way around the city. Trust me.” Gritting her teeth, she stalked ahead of him to the car.

  Jason opened the door for them as they approached. “Maxim, Caroline.”

  “Whatever.” She muttered under her breath, sliding into the vehicle. Jason rolled his eyes at Maxim.

  After Jason climbed in behind the steering wheel, and looking in his mirrors, he pulled into traffic at breakneck speed. Maxim pressed the privacy button on the panel, the glass partition between the backseat and the driver sliding down and out of sight. “I believe you have something to say to Jason, don’t you Carolee — Caroline?”

  She shot Maxim an angry glare, Jason’s eyebrows shooting up as he looked through the rearview mirror at her.

  “Jason, I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you about Maxim staying at the penthouse. I put my safety at risk. I pay you to protect me and you can only do that if I keep you apprised of my schedule, and of invited guests to the house.”

  The lack of sincerity and flat affect bothered Maxim, and usually he’d push for a genuine apology. For today though, he’d let it slide.

  Jason smiled at both of them. “I think I like having you around already, Maxim. You’re forgiven, Caroline. And, yes, it is very important that I know the comings and goings in your life. I need to check people and places out ahead of time, not on the spur-of-the-moment. I appreciate it.”

  “Good girl,” Maxim whispered to her. “It’ll make his job easier. You understand that, right? It’s about keeping you safe. The most important part of having a healthy lifestyle staying being alive and unharmed, no?”

  “Yes. But I want to make it clear that I’m in charge around here. I make schedules and do things without having to seek permission.” She turned in her seat, her back stiffening. “Is that clear?”

  Maxim nodded at her. “I do understand. Again, we aren’t asking that you receive permission. It’s more like giving Jason, or I, the ability to see if anyone dangerous is around before you invite them to your office or penthouse. Does the difference make sense?”

  She relaxed a little and averted her eyes.

  Uncomfortable. Good.

  “Yes, it does make sense. I’ll do my best.”

  “See that you do.” He turned to look out his window. “I missed the spring rains in New York. They’re cleansing and relaxing. I know you New Yorkers see them as annoying, but they’re actually very nice.”

  The rest of the ride was quiet, with Maxim listening to the rain, horns blowing in the traffic, and watching all the busy people rushing and walking fast to go God knows where in their normal New York bustle.

  * * *

  After they pulled into their reserved space in the parking garage, Jason turned the
engine off and came around to open the door. “I’m coming upstairs with you.”

  It was a statement, not a question. He wasn’t looking for permission, and then before she could answer, Maxim responded for her. “Of course, I’d expect no less. As a matter of fact, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes until they hurt. “Are you kidding me? Doesn’t anyone care what I think? You men need to settle down and remember who’s in charge here before I pull rank.” She rose to her full high-heeled height of six feet, and did her best to not be intimidated by all the testosterone of the two men still towering over her.

  Both men glared at her. Jason was the first to speak. “Do we need to discuss again, that you didn’t give me time to fully check into his background? Your safety is my job and your approval, or even liking my statement, doesn’t come into play right now.” He put a hand on her elbow. “Let’s go. I’m kinda anxious to see what’s for dinner.”

  Walking on her other side, Maxim stated, “Hopefully Caroline has enough food in pantry and freezer for me to impress you both.”

  She looked over at Maxim. Would he be upset if she didn’t have the food he needed? She hoped he didn’t write her off as a lost cause. She didn’t have very much in terms of groceries in her house, especially anything healthy or ingredients for fancy dishes.

  “Lena, don’t worry. I’m sure there is something in your kitchen. I can make dish out of anything. Trust me.” His hand brushed her back, the stroke of his palm oddly comforting.

  “Caroline. Yes, I’m sure there’s something you can use in there. If not, we’ll order out.” She laughed weakly, the sound even less confident than she felt.

  “I would make trip to the grocery store, before we order out. That’s first habit we break, yes?” Judging by the look on the Russian’s face, making a joke wouldn’t be appropriate at that moment, so she simply nodded.

  Jason swiped a key card for the private elevator that brought her straight to her penthouse. When they entered her home, Maxim whistled low and long.

  “Wow. Caroline, this is amazing! Not a good enough word — stunning? Yes, stunning.” He walked up to the picture window in the great room, taking in the cityscape below. It looked out over Manhattan, and now that the evening was approaching, she agreed it definitely was as he had described it — stunning, indeed. The sun, a smoldering ball on the horizon, rendered the buildings into hues of pink and orange, with streaks of blue and purple just starting to bleed into the darkening sky. The view of the city never got old.

  “I cannot imagine seeing this every night.” He stood with his hands on his narrow hips, his suit coat pushed out of the way by those large hands.

  “If you take the job, you can see this every night. It’s even prettier in the snow. From this height, the city takes on a magical look in a snow storm.” A romantic at heart, Caroline loved watching the snow cover the buildings, and presume what the people were doing inside.

  “It will be pleasure to see this.” He stood quietly for a few moments, then suddenly turned, clapping his hands. “Okay. Let’s get dinner going! Show me kitchen.” He took his suit coat off, draping it over a chair placed by her door.

  She laughed at his excitement. “This way.” She halted when he started to roll up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. Her clit throbbed immediately.

  Christ! I’m acting like a silly teenager.

  His arms were muscled and hairy, and once more, she noticed how large his hands were.

  “You okay?”

  She must’ve looked like an idiot just standing there staring at his arms. Hardly the poise one would expect from the CEO of a company.

  What the hell has this damn man done to me?

  “Oh, fine. I’m fine. C’mon.” She pivoted, walking toward her gleaming kitchen, the white cupboards and floors accented well with the stainless steel appliances. She loved her kitchen — even though she had not a clue what to do in there.

  “Here’s the fridge, of course. And the stove.” She tapped each as she spoke, rolling her eyes as if exasperated that he needed help in recognizing them. “Over here is the pantry closet. Good luck. I’ll open some wine. Do you prefer a mixed drink, or is wine more your speed?”

  “Wine would be perfect.” He had already walked into the pantry, looking around. After a few minutes of hearing banging and sliding of cans on shelves, amid the thud of his heavy footsteps on the wooden floor, he came out, his arms full of oils, spices, cans of tomatoes, and pasta — along with a few other things she didn’t even know she had in there.

  “Not bad. Now, I see what you have in freezer to make this better.” He winked at her and opened the door, shifting items. “Ah. Yes. Chicken, we’re set. And beef. I can do beef stroganoff tomorrow — my specialty.” He opened the refrigerator, inspecting its contents, scrutinizing things.

  Things.

  Things like a tub of partially eaten chocolate chip cookie dough, whipped cream, chocolate syrups. The Chinese food containers from last night were still there, plus several bottles of specialty coffee creamers. She cringed, waiting for him to scold her for her bad eating habits.

  Instead, he stooped, opening the cupboard doors of the island, pulling out frying pans and a pot for the pasta. He whistled to himself as he placed the pot in the sink at the end of the island, filling it with water, as casual as if he’d been working in that kitchen for years. He appeared more comfortable in it than she’d ever been.

  She’d been more than a little shocked that he hadn’t upbraided her for the ingredients — or lack of ingredients — in her kitchen. He wasn’t fazed at all.

  He looked at her, raising his eyebrows. “You are deep in thought. Is something wrong? Everything okay?” He stopped chopping the onions and garlic to wait for her answer.

  “I’m fine,” she lied.

  “When women say ‘fine’ they are not ‘fine’. Speak.”

  “I’m surprised you weren’t angry about the stuff in my pantry and refrigerator. It’s… not very healthy.” She dropped her eyes, swirling her finger over the pattern in the marbled countertop in front of her. Anything to avoid eye contact for the imminent admonishment.

  “Why would I be angry?” His eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head, the handsome man appearing genuinely confused.

  “I have a lot of junk food and almost no healthy things to eat here.”

  “Yes, you do. But that is why you hire me. I would not be angry with you for food. It is not how I am.” He tossed the onions and garlic into the pan, and she watched them sizzle and jump in the hot olive oil, the comforting scent wafting over to her. He continued. “Besides, you bought all of this before hiring me. None of this is my concern. We’ll clean out cupboards and start fresh tomorrow. Even after you hire me, I won’t get angry over food. Now, that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences. But angry? Nyet, I don’t get angry.”

  “Consequences? What… do you mean by that?”

  He gave her that dimpled smirk that made her belly flip in a funny way. “Nervous, Caro? You’ll have the natural consequences of eating any of those foods. And then I’ll be adding extra exercises or running. Things that will help fight the extra calories and fat, things that will keep you from caving into desires and eating unhealthy foods. Were you hoping I meant spanking?”

  “No! Of course not. I just… didn’t know what you meant. That’s what I hate about all of this. I like some of the things in that fridge. Like my creamers for my coffee, for instance.”

  “But they’re high in sugar. You need to break addiction to sugars in diet. We can find some flavored coffees that you might enjoy. Most things can be eaten. Only little at a time, yes? Once addiction to carbs and sugars is broken, you’ll see. It won’t be painful — unless you want it to be.” He tossed the chicken into the pan, covering it and turning the heat down a bit. “Now, let me see if you have some bell pepper and veggies in that vegetable bin.”

  He opened the drawer, a pleased tone to his voice. “Y
es! Sweet potato and one red bell pepper. Perfect.”

  She thought about what he’d said. It won’t be painful, unless you want it to be. What the hell did he mean by that? She thought of the videos on her spanking video site. Those women definitely wanted it to be painful. She turned, looking at that gorgeous ass of his as he bent over, rummaging around inside her fridge again. How she’d love to take a bite of that ass, then grind her pelvis and clit on all that hard muscle while she nibbled his shoulders, slowly licking his huge biceps. Her excitement surged from her body, slickening her labia. Shifting in her chair, she crossed her legs, giving herself a little rub.

  He returned to the counter. “Your cheeks are red. Is that wine working already? What did you have for lunch today, Caroleena?”

  “I didn’t have lunch. I knew we’d be leaving early, so I just worked through it.”

  “Now that will make me angry, since you asked. Not acceptable. I would’ve given you some cheese and crackers before the wine.” He made a small chopping motion with his hand. “No more wine. I get you cheese.”

  His shirt fit tightly over his broad shoulders, bunching over his biceps. He definitely worked out daily. He opened the fridge again and pulled out a couple bricks of cheddar and pepper jack cheese.

  How in the name of hell am I fitting my fat ass into yoga shorts and a top with a body like that next to me?

  He had gone to the pantry, returning with a box of crackers. “Now, we discuss more fitness rules. Three meals a day. You do not skip any. Your metabolism can’t function without food. Do you have mini fridge in your office?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  He nodded. “Good. What do you keep in it now?”

  “Diet pop, yogurt. Dips for chips or pretzels. Coffee creamers.”

  He stopped slicing cheese, raising a dark eyebrow at her. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, clenching his jaw. “You need to keep staples in your fridge at work for busy days when you can’t eat like you should. But they must be food items that will help keep your body functioning. Hummus, cottage cheese, fruit, cheese, wheat crackers, carrot sticks. A little plate of those and you will have protein, dairy, fruit, vegetable, and grain. See? No need to have fancy lunch every day. But you will eat three times a day.”