The Russian

by Isabella Laase

  “Do you really think I bought you a mattress to pay for sex?” he interrupted in disbelief. “Listen to yourself. You sound ridiculous. What’s really going on here? You need to start being honest with me, or I can’t help.”

  “But helping wasn’t part of our agreement, was it?” she asked, reigniting her pain. “You didn’t sign up for all of this. We were supposed to be about sex, and I think we need to come back to that.”

  “Never in my life have I wanted to paddle a little girl’s ass as much as I want to right now.” Luka stood, taking her hand to pull her off the bed. “But obviously we need to try something different. Strip. Now.”

  She had no energy to fight him. Reexamining those clearly defined roles would return them to the basics and contain her out of control emotions. She took off her jeans, and he helped her with the sweatshirt before pushing the black panties to her ankles. Standing naked before him with her chin lowered, she waited for her instructions.

  “Now, relax,” he said, tapping her chin until she met his gaze. Pulling back the covers, he nodded to the bed. “Get in, koshka.”

  She obeyed, making room for him to take his rightful place as her master, the anticipation twisting her arousal to tighten her clit and force her stresses to retreat, but instead of joining her, he covered her with the new linens. Alone, igniting the tears that threatened to destroy her a second time.

  Luka sat on top of the covers, pushing a few loose hairs behind her ears and stroking her cheeks. “What do you feel, koshka? Take your time. Connect to the pillows, the sheets and mattress. What do they feel like against your skin?”

  “I don’t know, Luka,” she cried. “It feels fine.”

  “Then you aren’t connecting to your body,” He held her hand in both of his. “Breathe deeply. I’m not leaving you, I promise. I’m right here. What is it like to rub the crisp coolness against you? Are the sheets starting to warm from your arousal? Think about the smoothness against your breasts and that nicely shaved pussy rubbing across the fabric, embracing you, holding you in its comfort to tickle your sensitive erotic zones. It’s your body, koshka. What are you feeling?”

  She didn’t want to relax, but his soft tone and gentle caresses chased away the worst of melancholy without the blinding lust that usually tied them together. “It... it’s nice,” she admitted. “It’s soft and the feather comforter feels like no weight at all, even though I’m warm.”

  “Good girl,” he said. “Now, settle in.”

  Burrowing into the covers, she embraced the silky softness and connected to a hidden layer of need. The ache grew slowly, twirling outward to embrace the sensitive places in her vulva before joining with her wrists, her breasts, and her inner thighs.

  “I enjoy beautiful things,” he said. “And I enjoy seeing my most beautiful possession in comfort. I am not spending more than I can afford. It is my passion to treat you well, and it pleases me to do so. Do you understand?”

  “I...” she stammered. “I suppose I do. But...”

  “But nothing. I understand our relationship is short term, but in the short term, you are my focus. We will look for the furniture to create a beautiful room that is a reflection of your personality.”

  “The house came with all sorts of furniture,” she said unhappily, “and I picked up even more for practically free. It just needs a coat of paint and a little sanding. There’s even more up in the attic and in the garage...”

  “There is nothing wrong with that style, but your habit of finding the least expensive product for the savings alone is tiring. The pieces you repair can have a place if that’s what you want, but you can treat yourself, too, with something new and exciting that never belonged to anybody else. So, what is the style you’ve been conceptualizing for your own?”

  Dreaming was nourished by one’s life’s experiences and in all of the years she’d worked to leave her old world, she’d never envisioned what it would look like when she’d arrived in the new one. The sad, broken-down house with no plans was a dismal reminder of her lack of imagination, and she had no idea where to start.

  “What is your place like in Russia?” she asked, hoping for some ideas.

  “I own an apartment in one of the old buildings in St. Petersburg and had it decorated by a professional. It is very nice, but it reflects my tastes. This is your home and needs to reflect your choices. Use the money you earned taking care of Anton if you truly can’t accept this as a gift, but you deserve something nice.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve honestly never thought about it, but I guess I can start looking through some magazines. Do you think I can find any of those home improvement shows on my computer?”

  “I do,” he said, adding an evil grin. “I am hoping now is a good time to tell you that the men will be here on Friday to install the new windows and doors on this house.”

  “Luka... do you ever quit?” she asked, closing her eyes with a sigh. “I just need to know what I’m working with here.”

  “We negotiated security, and brittle wooden doors and thin-paned windows that were painted shut in the last century are far from secure, so they fall within my responsibility. I’m well prepared to deal with your attitude, koshka. If your stomach has settled, leave that bed and kneel.”

  Pleased to return to their private world, she did as he commanded, leaning into his thigh while he ran his hand through her hair. She was at peace with the knowledge that, at for least tonight, their familiar routine would keep them together, but his willingness to put her needs first confirmed there was much more to this man than his games, even if he didn’t understand that about himself.

  Chapter Twelve

  Over the next six weeks, Luka introduced her to more small luxuries, focusing on shared gifts she couldn’t complain about like a nice bottle of wine, smooth soaps that smelled like vanilla, or food from a specialty grocery store. He took her out to eat at fancy restaurants, classic barbeque joints, or one of the many wineries and microbreweries across the county, and they attended live stage performances and classical concerts.

  Admittedly, some of his progress came from the use of an old wooden spoon against her bare bottom. When she’d taken her sass too far, he’d crook his finger to demand she submit to him for her punishment. If she’d been particularly saucy, she was required to ask for her spanking with her eyes lowered in deference and practice her tone until it was perfect. He loved rubbing his hands over the rounded curves of her firm ass that turned pink with heat when he’d applied his discipline.

  Accepting personal gifts, however, remained a challenge for her. The small pair of gold earrings he’d brought her from California cost only a few hundred dollars, but like the money she’d made taking care of Anton, the earrings had disappeared. He considered forcing the point, but managing her complexity was going to require more than exploring their master-sub relationship at the dungeon in Pavel’s lake house.

  By late March, the weather was negotiating its final winter thaw, mixing together a complex dichotomy of extreme cold and hints of spring. On a typical morning, snow covered the back deck, by afternoon the weather had turned to a driving rain, and by evening, the sky exploded into a fiery red and yellow sunset that offered a hint of warm promise. With the changing seasons upon them, he was ready to test her resolve in accepting a gift she couldn’t hide from.

  “Exactly where are you taking me?” she asked suspiciously from the back seat of Vadik’s car. “I thought we were going to the lake house when you told me to pack a few things, and why is Vadik driving us?”

  “I’ve told you, many times, it’s a surprise. Now stop pestering before I paddle your ass, and stop frowning. Your face is going to freeze that way, covered with wrinkles like a bowl of mashed-up bananas.”

  “Real romantic,” she said sarcastically. “And stop talking about my ass in front of...” She pointed toward Vadik as though he hadn’t had a front row seat to her life these last weeks. Vadik grinned, but didn’t say a word as he pulled off the expressway tow
ard the Greater Rochester Airport.

  “Wait,” she said. “Did you book me a flight someplace?”

  “No,” Luka said, mentally preparing himself for her tantrum. “My cousins and I are attending an event in Dallas, and we’ve rented a plane. We would like you to fill one of the empty seats.”

  His careful planning had relied on the driver’s presence and her reluctance to make a public scene once she realized what was happening, but apparently, that part of his plan was a failure. “I am not letting you charter a plane, for God’s sake, Luka. That’s freaking insane!”

  “Do not raise your voice to me,” he warned, climbing out of the car in front of the small charter company. “The plane is already here, and my cousins have flown on it from New York.” Luka opened her door and waited. The furrowed brow betrayed her continuing suspicions, but she took his hand, stepping out of the car with her usual grace. Gathering their luggage, Vadik disappeared inside the building, passing Luka’s cousins who’d come to greet them.

  “Dr. Anderson!” called Anton. “It’s good to see you! I’m glad Luka talked you into this trip.”

  “I’m glad to see you, too,” she said, giving Anton a hug as though they were long-lost friends. “Please call me Mia, and he didn’t exactly talk me into anything. I found out about this trip, like, five minutes ago, and he’s shut down any communication. Your cousin can be a sneaky, stubborn bastard.”

  With his submissive overstepping her bounds, an awkward silence fell over the men. Letting some of her inappropriate behaviors slide the last few weeks had been necessary, but his leniency had obviously sent the wrong message. He glared at her, expecting her to crumble into an apology, but she kissed him on the cheek. “Hold onto the tough guy routine until later, but you gotta give me a little leeway when you drop a bombshell like this. I feel like you’re kidnapping me all over again.”

  “I didn’t kidnap you,” he said though gritted teeth. “We came to a mutual understanding.”

  “I was actually there,” drawled Yuri, scratching the back of his head, “and it felt like a kidnapping to me.” The huge Russian gallantly held out his arm. “Come sit next to me, Mia. I want to hear all about the sneaky, stubborn bastard during our flight.”

  “Thank you, Yuri,” she said, taking his elbow and sending Luka a saucy wink. “Perhaps you can show Luka some of the finer points of romance. It’s been a challenge.”

  Yuri and Anton escorted her into the building, leaving him in the parking lot trying to process what had happened. Slavic held the door open for him. “Kuzen, you really do have your work cut out for you.” When Luka didn’t move, he added, “Are you coming? You had to have known you would need to make adjustments. She’s got a sila that isn’t going to be content as a simple slave.”

  Her strength was the first characteristic he’d been drawn to, but the adjustments he’d already made had placed this relationship into uncharted territory. He was prepared to scold her, but as soon as he entered the building, she was by his side, wrapping herself around his waist. “Look at that tiny plane,” she said, her eyes wide with apprehension. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Come, koshka,” he said. He’d planned this for weeks with the sole purpose of bringing a smile to her eyes. “You will enjoy this, but I’m warning you to behave. Do not lull yourself into a false sense of security just because we are in a public location.”

  Without the cumbersome trials of security lines and archaic boarding procedures, it took less than fifteen minutes to be introduced to the crew and load the midsized Cessna with their luggage. The closer they got to take off, however, the quieter she became until she said nothing at all, holding tightly to his hand while the pilots awaited instructions from the flight tower.

  “You don’t need to be nervous,” observed Anton. “Private jets are just as safe as the big ones.”

  “I, um, I’ve actually never been on a plane before,” she admitted. “My mom didn’t have a lot of money, and there were five of us, so the cost was mad crazy.”

  “Geez, Luka,” scolded Anton, taking off his seat belt to move to an empty chair closer to her. “If you’d told us, we would have prepared her, maybe a little tour or something before we got started.”

  “Sit down,” ordered Luka, as the plane started to move. “We’re ready to take off and they aren’t going to wait for you. She will be fine.”

  From the seat in front of her, Slavic turned around. “She looks pale to me. Are you okay, Mia?”

  “Are you okay, koshka?” said Luka, evaluating her complexion. “I mean, are you going to vomit or anything?” He didn’t do particularly well with that sort of thing, but apparently neither did the others as his cousins shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Her quick nod did nothing to ease his concerns.

  When the plane picked up speed, she squeezed his hand even harder and closed her eyes tightly. “Open your eyes,” he said sternly.

  Not only would darkness be bad for her stomach, her first plane ride was an experience she would remember all of her life. Despite her bravery in the parking lot, she was still his well-trained submissive and reluctantly obeyed. “It is a clear day,” he added, patting her trembling hand. “Look.”

  Those big brown eyes that sparkled in the right light grew wide as the plane climbed past a few small feathery clouds while the buildings on the ground grew smaller. The jet turned away from their takeoff trajectory to head westward, and she cried out, “Look! There’s the canal. And my high school, and that’s the village where my mom goes grocery shopping. I can even see the trailer park. Ours is close to the back, by the creek.”

  The plane hit some turbulence, and she gasped loud enough to classify as a small scream, but he continued to pat her hand while glaring at the others so they wouldn’t tease. “It’s fine. Those are just potholes in the sky. We will let you know if you have to be frightened.”

  She leaned into the leather captain’s chair, keeping her vigil out the window until the captain reported they’d reached their cruising altitude, and his cousins moved to inspect the food and drinks in the galley kitchen.

  “Should I ask what business you have in Dallas?” she asked quietly. “I know there are some things I shouldn’t know about and—”

  “I wouldn’t take you anyplace dangerous,” he interrupted, “if that’s what you’re asking. This is the wedding reception for one of our business associates’ daughter. They were married in Russia, but they have enough American family and friends that they’re holding a second celebration. It will be a very formal affair with hundreds of people.”

  “Luka,” she groaned. “I didn’t bring anything to wear to something like that. Are your aunt and uncle going to be there, too?”

  “Don’t worry so much. I took care of buying you a dress and all of the accessories. This surprise was the reason I took your measurements when you thought I was playing with your beautiful curves. And Pavel has the flu. They canceled at the last minute or the plane would have picked them up in New York.”

  Always unhelpful, Yuri shoveled cookies into his mouth. “I don’t know why you’d worry about wearing a dress bought by a middle-aged Russian tourist. I’m sure he tried it on first.” Luka snapped at him in Russian, the ensuing dialog showcasing his growing anger in direct proportion to Yuri’s amusement.

  “Okay, boys,” she said with a sigh, holding out her hands. “I’m setting some ground rules, starting with no Russian. I want to understand who is saying what so I know who to yell at. I’m not going to referee a bunch of children trapped in a tin can in the sky.”

  There was a small silence before Yuri spoke. “She’s already giving you orders, Luka. I like her.”

  “Yeah,” said Anton. “I find her hysterical. He just rolls over like a defeated puppy.”

  Slavic laughed, and Luka sent him another glare. “What?” Slavic defended himself with a shrug of his shoulders and a wave of his hands. “I didn’t say anything. Yuri and Anton are the ones being idiots.”

&nb
sp; Despite all of his careful planning to pull off the perfect trip, maybe he hadn’t thought through every last detail.

  * * *

  Surprises were fine, but there was a limit to what she should be expected to do in a single weekend. Taking her first trip out of state with nothing except a small bag of toiletries and a spare pair of jeans and an extra t-shirt was bad enough, but the added impossible factors included riding on an airplane smaller than a school bus, to celebrate a wedding for people she’d never met, with hundreds of rich guests speaking a language she couldn’t understand while wearing a dress she’d never seen. With Slavic. It was the first time she’d seen him since he’d felt her up when she was naked and chained to the ceiling.

  Luka had planned well though, because she’d enjoyed the airplane after she’d gotten over her initial fears. After a lifetime learning about the world through books and movies, it was exciting when they landed in another state where the warm weather was the polar opposite from the snow she’d left behind. The hired driver followed miles of concrete, stretching to the horizon and winding through a maze of expressways layered on top of more expressways to accommodate the volumes of heavy traffic. The classic hotel was in the center of downtown, and a doorman wearing a crisp uniform led them into to an oak-paneled lobby whose tall ceilings were filled with glass and natural light.

  Their expansive suite housed a huge gray-tiled bathroom and oversized sitting area complete with spectacular view of the city, but within minutes, his cousins were pounding on their door. They piled into a cab to take them to a Russian restaurant decorated with heavy golden drapes and intricately carved tables and chairs. Speaking to the owners in booming voices, the four of them ordered more food than anybody could eat in days. Savory dill pickles, creamed mushrooms, salty broths, heavy stroganoffs, grilled lamb and beef kabobs, wheat pancakes filled with caviar, and a bright red soup made from beetroot, carrots, and beef and slathered with sour cream.