“Me too,” she sighed. “A cruel old merman, and he does all the terrible things to me I could have hoped for.”
* * *
“Please don’t go, Master.” Varushka stood on her tiptoes, holding Konstantin’s shirt collar in a firm grip. Even her best pouty face wasn’t swaying him.
He sighed heavily, his minty breath making her want to kiss him. But they were being watched. Though they couldn’t see their audience, there was no doubt in her mind they were there. From the picture window or from behind the family car.
Maybe this wouldn’t suck so much if they’d been able to spend more time together, but after the third evening of meeting at the swimming hole, Antonia had screwed up Varushka’s alibi. After that her father had come up with a zillion excuses about why she needed to be home at night. Konstantin had been allowed to visit her on the front porch, but her father wouldn’t let him set foot in the house.
“Malish,” he whispered, wrestling her hands from his collar. “You know I have to. Now be a good girl and stop tempting me to do wicked things to you right here in front of your papa’s house.”
Huffing, she stuck out her lip farther. “I don’t even care about making a scene. I just got you back and now you’re leaving so soon.”
He chuckled. “You don’t care if I bend you over the hood of the car, pull up that pretty skirt, and spank your bare ass right here where everyone can see?”
“Not at all,” she lied, hiding a smile.
He burst out laughing. “I’m supposed to be making your papa like me. Not disciplining his daughter on the front lawn. Now behave.” He leaned in and nipped her ear, making her squeak. “It’s only a few days. You don’t want me to lose my business, do you?”
Slowly, she shook her head, staring at the buttons on his crisp work shirt.
“I just have to take care of a few things then I’ll be right back.” He kissed her forehead.
“You better be,” she said with a scowl. “Or I’ll find myself a new vodyanoy to defile me at the swimming hole.”
He arched a brow. “Oh really?”
Sighing, she dropped her head on his chest. “No. You’re the only one who knows how to do it right.”
His chest rumbled under her cheek and she started to cry. He tightened his arms around her and made soothing sounds. “Why are you crying, baby?”
“What if Baba Nina and Papa can’t come to terms? What if they’re always fighting and every time we come home, we have to hear it again and again?”
Cupping her chin, he lifted her face to his. “Then we’ll just have to keep trying.”
“Promise you will?” she said softly. “Promise you won’t give up?”
His gaze flicked away and he let go of her face. When he stepped back it was as if the sun disappeared behind the clouds and left her cold and alone. Little seeds of doubt found their way into her mind and took root there. Was he second-guessing things? Did he think fighting with her papa wasn’t worth it?
She tried to swallow but a lump formed and stuck there. “Master?”
He came back to her with a shaky smile and kissed her forehead again. “Don’t worry so much. We’ll figure it out.”
She shivered. She wished he’d scoop her up and carry her to the altar right now, before anyone could stop them. Before he could change his mind.
“What am I supposed to do here while you’re gone?” Antonia would no doubt bother her with nosy questions. And it wasn’t as if she’d start school again. Perhaps she’d get back to working on the farm. Funny how feeding her mama’s chickens made her homesick for her home in America now instead of the other way around.
Konstantin shrugged. “Relax? Read? Spend time with your friends and family?”
Her shoulders sagged. Everything seemed so different now. The small village . . . smaller. Antonia, her brothers, old friends from school, they were naive and unworldly, and she suddenly had nothing in common with them. She missed Kate and Everly. It wasn’t that she was too good for Russia or the village, it was just that she’d changed so much and coming back here, living under her father’s roof, made her feel small again, childish. But she wasn’t anymore. She was a woman now. But how could she show her father that?
“I have to go, bad girl,” he said. “Or I’ll miss my flight.”
“Okay.” She looked up, trying to read his mind through his eyes, but all she saw was a depth of darkness staring back at her. Sometimes the man could be such a mystery. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
After a final hug, he got in his rental car and left her standing in the driveway, waving after him, alone.
As she trudged back to the house, she spotted her father scowling in the window. For some reason, it gnawed at her nerves. She was tired—too tired to fight with him now. Couldn’t he give it a rest? Just once? Especially after he’d clearly seen her crying. When had the man become so heartless?
When she walked through the door, he was there, his arms crossed, glaring down at her. Her face heated with anger.
If he says one word . . .
“It’s better for him to go.”
“Not now, Papa,” she gritted through her teeth. When she shouldered past him, he followed her into the kitchen.
“With him gone, you’ll have time and space to think,” he continued. “Without his influence, you can use the brain God gave you—”
She spun on him, rage igniting. “I have a brain, yes! But I also have a heart. Just because you’ve forgotten what love is, doesn’t mean I have! Maybe if you focused on Mama for once instead of me, you’d be happier!”
“Enough!” Papa’s face turned bright red as he banged his fist on the kitchen table.
Varushka felt like steam was shooting out of her ears. Her chest heaved as she stared him down, and her hands shook with anger. Maybe she’d gone too far but she didn’t care. This was the stand she needed to take with Papa. He had to let go of control. She wasn’t his anymore. She was Konstantin’s.
Forcing herself to calm, she met his gaze. “I’m sorry I said that about you and Mama, but I’m not sorry for standing up to you. You are not in charge of my life anymore. I’m an adult. You’ve done a good job, but now it’s time to let me go.”
Papa seemed dumbfounded at first, his jaw hanging open. But when he took a breath and looked like he was about to protest, she turned and walked away.
She answered to one man now. Only one.
Her Master.
Chapter Fourteen
Never in his life had Konstantin thought to himself that what he really needed after a hard day of negotiations was to come home and play with two unruly goats.
They were both adorable and ridiculous, frolicking around him like puppies when he let them out of their pen. Kroshka, the brown one with the white splotch on its forehead, was so sweet and well-behaved that he’d considered letting it into the house to keep him company. It was tiny, and he doubted it would do more damage indoors than a puppy would. If he had time to look up whether goats could be house trained, he’d work on it. The white one, Beda, on the other hand, nipped him, chewed on his clothes, and if he dared to turn his back, nine times out of ten she would butt him in the ass.
The thing was possessed.
Could the church exorcise a goat? Were there special priests for livestock exorcisms?
He checked his phone again, and shot back a sarcastic response to the ongoing group text with Banner and Ambrose. They’d invited themselves over, even though Konstantin had told them he was exhausted and had to get work done. With asshole friends like his, who needed enemies? There was no arguing with them.
Far more worrying was that his text conversation with Varushka had trickled off and died. She hadn’t answered him since she went to bed, and she was usually up by now—sometimes for hours. Maybe she was sleeping in?
Originally, he’d estimated that organizing things for the grand opening of the second shop in California would take only a few days, but between California and
having to replace the general manager of one of his older shops, one thing had led to another and those few days had become two weeks, which had turned into three. Now there was an investor in Nebraska interested in making a deal, and three more days of scheduled negotiations loomed.
Varushka had been understanding at first—more than he’d expected. They’d texted back and forth like mad for a couple of weeks, but in the past few days she’d gotten moody. Part of him was desperate to get his ass back to Russia before she decided he was bad news. To be fair to her, though, maybe it was better that she have time to give serious consideration the fact that he was bad news.
Every time he thought about how innocent she’d been when they’d met and all of the things he’d done to her, he wanted to kick himself. Introducing her to his perversions, especially so quickly, had been selfish of him, and it made him wonder if changing her life’s course so radically was the most profound evil he’d ever wrought in his life.
He’d wanted her, so he’d taken her. If that wasn’t the epitome of covetousness and greed, he didn’t know what was.
Now, to top everything off, if he married her there was a good chance it would damage her relationship with her family. Could he live with himself if he took that from her, too? Would a man who truly loved a woman fuck up her life so completely and feel no remorse?
Right now she was young and sweet and in love. But as the years passed, would she hate him for taking so much from her?
His guts churned as he scratched Beda behind the ears. The white goat leaned affectionately against his leg, then nipped his finger. He winced and frowned at the thing, wondering if she’d been sent to remind him that life had a way of getting even with assholes.
He fed the chickens, then lay back on the grass and waited.
The sound of Ambrose’s booming laugh preceded his friends as they walked around the corner to the back of the house.
Hopefully they’d brought beer.
They’d probably be more comfortable inside, but the goats needed exercise and attention, especially since he’d given the woman who took care of them the day off.
“Sweet. The white one killed him. You owe me five bucks.” Ambrose clapped his hands together once and Konstantin opened his eyes to check that the goats hadn’t been scared off, and that they weren’t doing some unauthorized snacking in the garden.
“He’s still breathing. I’m not paying up if he’s still breathing,” Banner replied.
“He is not breathing.”
“If you were a real friend, you’d give him mouth to mouth.”
“I’m not allowed to if Everly isn’t with me. She wants to watch. She’s even offered to pay.”
“More than five bucks?” Banner asked. “You might make more money kissing men for your wife than you do betting against me.”
“Oh, she wants to see more than kissing. Trust me. She’s such a fucking pervert.” Ambrose sighed happily. “I love her so hard.”
“Quit talking about molesting my corpse.” Konstantin sighed heavily. “Have some respect for the devil.”
“Here we go.” Ambrose groaned, nudging Kon’s knee with the toe of his shoe. “If we have to listen to him going on about what a horrible person he is, I’m claiming this whole case of beer for myself. I can’t listen to all of this again sober.”
“Prince Hamlet isn’t going to be content until Ophelia drowns herself, Ambrose. Get with the program.”
“Does anyone even say ‘Get with the program’ anymore? I mean, other than high school teachers trying to prove how hip they are?”
“Shh. I think Prince Hamlet has a soliloquy coming on.” Banner, the gentleman that he was, cracked open a beer and handed it to Konstantin.
“I guess twenty-three beers should do it. But if he starts talking about how smart and beautiful and sweet she is, and how he doesn’t deserve her, I’m going to need the number for that brewery that delivers.”
“Shut up. Our best friend is having an existential crisis. It’s not time to be a comedian.”
“Then why am I here? You should’ve brought Kate. At least she’s a therapist.”
“I love my wife too much to subject her to this.”
“Why are my friends such horrible people?” Konstantin asked no one in particular. “When they were struggling with their relationships, was I not there for them?”
“Actually, you were in Russia when I was working through the beginning of my relationship with Kate,” Banner reminded him.
Ambrose snorted. “Yeah, and I seem to remember that when I was having issues with Everly, your solution was to offer me the use of your slaves.”
“Is that not the act of a true friend?” Konstantin feigned shock. “I didn’t see Banner offering you Kate.” An awkward silence fell. “Oh wait, he did do that before he married her, didn’t he? And how many times did you fuck her, Ambrose?”
“He didn’t fuck her, and I thought we agreed never to talk about that,” Banner grumbled.
“No, you agreed we should never talk about that.” Ambrose smirked. “Konstantin and I agreed we should tease you about it once in a while for the rest of your life. You get really mad and start throwing things. That’s some funny shit.”
Konstantin regretted that he’d have to sit up to drink his beer. They should have brought straws or something. Sitting up sounded like too much of a hassle. “I never should have let Baba find a wife for me. I should have stuck with women who were already perverts, instead of defiling a poor innocent girl.”
There was an evil chuckle. “So when you say you’ve defiled her, exactly how far have you gone?” Fucking Ambrose and his corruption fetish.
“Why would I tell you that?”
“I asked Everly and apparently there’s some sort of girl code that says she’s not allowed to disclose that information, even to her husband.” He made a sound of annoyance. “Are slaves allowed to have codes? We need to have that loophole addressed at some point.” There was a pause as he drank some beer. “So, have you fucked her ass yet?”
Banner choked on a mouthful of beer and spat it on the ground. “Ambrose, you can’t just ask a guy if he’s fucked his submissive’s ass yet.”
“Yes, I can. I just did.”
For a moment, Konstantin managed not to think about Varushka giving herself to him at the swimming hole, but then every mind-blowing detail came back to him—how tight she was, how willing, the way she squealed for him. He tried to banish the thought again but Ambrose had seen his expression.
“You dog!” He thumped him on the shoulder. “Nothing like rushing the poor girl. She’s so tiny I’m surprised you even fit. You’re not exactly a small man.”
“I haven’t taken her ass,” Konstantin lied. It was none of Ambrose’s business, and Varushka deserved more respect than for him to be blabbing about their sex life to other Doms, even if they were his best friends. “I may never.”
“Liar.” Ambrose snorted.
Banner stretched out on the grass next to Konstantin, staring up at the darkening sky. “Whatever you’ve done with Varushka is done. You can’t go back in time and take back the part where you introduced her to our world. The only thing you have to decide now is where to go from here.”
Beda wandered over and stared down into his face with an expression that said if she had opposable thumbs she might knife him in his sleep. He patted her tentatively and was relieved when she wandered off again.
Banner stared after the thing as it went to rub its flank against the fence. “Maybe if Varushka married another man before she met you she wouldn’t have known about kink, but she wouldn’t have stayed innocent about sex unless she decided to become a nun and lived cloistered for the rest of her life. All of us grow up sometime. It isn’t good or bad, it just is.”
Levering himself up onto his elbow, Konstantin sipped at his beer, and then lay back down.
Ambrose stretched out on the other side of him, but propped his head on his hand so he could see Konstantin’s face.
There was no such thing as appropriate personal space with Ambrose anymore. That was what happened when guys shared girls too often back in the day, he supposed.
“From what I’ve seen, and from what Everly’s told me, that girl loves you.” Ambrose gave him a half smile. “It’s not hard to see that she loves submitting to you too. Maybe she didn’t know about kink when she got here, but she’s taken to it faster, and more thoroughly, than most submissives I know who’ve been at this for years. She loves being yours.”
Konstantin waited for Ambrose to say something glib, or try to take a shot at him, but his friend just chewed on his lip and looked thoughtful.
On his other side, Banner snorted. “Can you imagine her trying to go vanilla after having been your slave? After everything you’ve shown her? She’d spend the rest of her life trying to explain to her vanilla husband exactly how to pull her hair properly, and that she equates a good spanking with love. Even if you’d never come along, vanilla may not have satisfied her.”
Maybe, but the fact remained that he was damaged goods.
Other than his relationships with the guys and Baba, he’d never loved anyone. Sometimes he wondered if he’d even loved his parents. He could barely remember them, even though he’d been a teenager when they died. His emotional memory was like a beach that washed smooth with each tide. People came and went from his life, and he never really stayed sad once they were gone. He’d broken up with Anna and Sindee without looking back. Could he be that cold with Varushka? She couldn’t handle that kind of cavalier attitude.
What if he didn’t have the capacity to love Varushka properly? What if he had some sort of clinical detachment that was going to fuck her up? That was an awful thought. She deserved a man who knew how to be a husband, and not just a money-making fucking machine. The thought of letting her go, though, made him feel sick.
Varushka held the promise of him having a family again, even if it was just the two of them and they never had children. He’d dug his claws into her, desperate to taste that feeling of belonging and being loved, but what if he was too fucked up to be part of a family now? He’d be a terrible husband and an even worse father, wouldn’t he?
To Have and to Master Page 21
