by Tia Siren
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at me like I was a crazy man. I was freezing my balls off, but I wasn’t so frozen that I didn’t notice that she had taken off the red flannel shirt and was wearing the white T-shirt with no bra underneath. The cold air made her nipples stand at attention, which pumped warm blood into the parts of me I thought I’d surely lost to frostbite.
“My car,” I said, struggling to catch my breath. “It won’t start. I’m afraid I can’t leave.”
When I glanced into her eyes, I wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement staring back at me. Not that it mattered. I was not going anywhere. This was my version of kidnapping the damsel and making her my own. The weather was my accomplice. My cock began to warm from the inside out in anticipation of taking her from behind.
“You’ll have to spend the night here,” she said with a look of compassion on her pretty face. “I have an apartment upstairs. There’s a couch. And heat.”
“Is there a hot shower?” I asked. I rubbed my hands together and pretended to be colder than I was. I didn’t have to put on much of a show. My cock aside, the rest of me felt like I was submerged in a bucket of ice.
Perhaps the idiot in the travel office would get a bonus rather than getting fired.
She gave me a pensive look. “A hot shower?”
I gave her an embarrassed smile. “I come from a place with weather much like this. My mother says nothing wards off the chill of a cold night like a hot shower.” I held up my hands. “I understand if it’s too much to ask. It was a silly question.”
“No, it’s not silly at all,” she said, warming my face with her eyes. “In fact, my dad used to say the same thing. You can take a hot shower. I’ll heat up some soup I have in the fridge.”
“That’s really not necessary,” I said. The little voice inside my head began whispering in my ear. Not surprisingly, the little voice was my father’s: Fuck soup, boy! Get this woman to a bed at once and claim your rights! My stomach growled in response. It wouldn’t take long to eat one little bowl of soup…
She let her green eyes go around my face for a moment and then gave me a nod and gestured for me to follow.
We went through the door leading into the kitchen. There was a narrow staircase leading to the second floor.
“This way,” she said. “We’ll have you thawed out in no time.”
CHAPTER EIGHT: Rebecca
I had just enough time to get upstairs and take off my flannel shirt and bra, and then I heard someone calling my name. It took a moment for me to realize that it was coming from outside. I went to the apartment window and peered out. Nick’s car was still in the lot, covered in half a foot of snow.
I forgot about putting my shirt back on as I rushed down the stairs. I found poor Nick freezing at the front door. His car wouldn’t start. He’d have to stay the night.
Oh no… Insert smiley face…
Nick followed me up to the tiny apartment. I showed him where the bathroom was. He wanted to take a hot shower to knock off the chill. My dad used to do the same thing, so I didn’t find anything odd about it.
“I’ll heat up some soup for you,” I said, handing him a towel. “I have a great hot water heater. Take as long as you like.”
I heard the water come on in the shower as I walked into the kitchen. I took the Tupperware of soup from the fridge and filled a bowl, and then I stuck the bowl in the microwave for a couple of minutes.
I glanced down the hall toward the bathroom door as I waited for the microwave to ding. The shower was on. I could see steam coming from under the door.
There was a gorgeous man in my shower and I was standing here like an idiot heating up soup. I closed my eyes and let my imagination run wild.
He was in my shower, naked.
Wet.
Hot.
Steamy.
Long.
Hard.
Without even realizing that I was doing it, my left hand was massaging my breast. My nipple pushed through the T-shirt, hard and big as a thimble. I tweaked it between my thumb and finger and felt a bolt of lightning shoot down my stomach and into my cunt.
The microwave dinged and scared the crap out of me. I opened the door and pulled out the bowl. It was scorching hot. I set the bowl out to cool and went to let Nick know that the soup was ready.
Now, you must realize two things in order to understand what happened next. First of all, this building was probably fifty years old, and it had settled over time, making the doors and windows all wonky in their frames. So, even though the bathroom door knob was locked, the lock wasn’t engage in the frame, so when I came to tell Nick his soup was ready, the door was open by an inch.
The second thing you must realize is that when you see a gorgeous man masturbating in your shower, it’s rude not to masturbate yourself. I thought it was the law here in upstate New York. I could have been wrong… I didn’t know…
Okay, that was all horseshit, but what was I supposed to do when I saw Nick soaping up his cock?
Close the door and back away?
I was glad I had chosen a clear plastic shower curtain because it was the easiest to clean. Through the clear plastic I could see him, this tall, muscular, gorgeous man, standing in my shower with his left hand braced against the wall and his right hand firmly around his long cock.
His head was down. His eyes were closed. His hand was soapy. It slid back and forth from the base of his cock to over the head, which was swollen like a balloon about to burst.
Before I knew it, my jeans were undone and my left hand had slipped into my panties, which were already soaking wet. I slid my middle finger over my clit and dipped it into my pussy to lube it up. I brought the finger up to rest on my clit hood and began rolling it from side to side. My other hand went under my T-shirt and cupped my breast. I squeezed my breast and rolled my nipple under my thumb.
I watched Nick through dreamy eyes. His cock was long and bowed upward a little. He pushed his hips out so his hand could slide along the full length of it. I heard him moan. I focused my eyes on his hand sliding along his cock as my finger massaged my clit. I imagined that it was my hand there, milking his long cock, cupping his tight balls, swirling my tongue around the bulbous head.
I slid two fingers into my pussy and slid them in and out while my thumb worked on my clit. I closed my eyes and imagined Nick’s lips on my pussy, his tongue probing my hole, his hands squeezing my breasts as I showered his lips and face with my hot juices.
I fell against the doorframe and moaned. I was coming hard. I opened my eyes to see Nick coming with me. His head was back and his eyes were closed.
His teeth dug into his lower lip as his hand jackhammered his cock faster and faster, until it shot streams of milky white ropes against the shower wall.
I imagined him shooting his sweet cum onto my tits and into my mouth.
I bit down hard on my lip and came into my hand, covering it with hot juices that smelled of tangy sex.
I heard the shower turn off. I took a deep breath and crept back from the door.
With my left hand still buried in my cunt, I quietly closed the door with my right hand and tiptoed into the bedroom to put on dry clothes.
CHAPTER NINE: Nick
Okay, I’d admit it: This could be the easiest kidnapping in Rostov family history. I wasn’t even sure I could call it a kidnapping anymore. I could tell when I opened my eyes and spotted Rebecca masturbating along with me at the door that this was going to be easy. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have patted myself on the back just yet. Getting her knocked up and to Kosnovia might be the difficult part.
My grandfather had to sneak into a room where my grandmother’s entire family slept in order to kidnap her. Her mother, father, three sisters, and six brothers didn’t hear a thing. They simply woke up in the morning and she was gone.
My father supposedly kidnapped my mother from her father’s rebel stronghold in the mountains on the border with Kiev.
I just got
stranded in a snow storm with a beautiful girl.
Oh well. I’d make up a much more heroic story for my father by the time I returned home.
I hadn’t set out to jack off in Rebecca’s shower, but the prospect of fucking her had made my cock grow hard. My father said the Rostov men could get erections from a stiff wind. He was right. I removed my suit to find my cock as thick and hard as a lead pipe. When a Rostov cock got stiff, it had to be relieved.
I caught Rebecca outside the door and realized she was stroking her pussy and breast while watching me stroke my cock.
I thought about commanding her to get in the shower to suck my royal dick, but I was already too far along. I could already feel the orgasm building in my tight balls. No, I would finish this job myself. Then I’d command her to submit.
My first time with her would be slow and deliberate. I would take my time kissing her lips, massaging her tits, pressing my tongue to her clit, burying my cock into her pussy.
She would beg me to fuck her harder and faster, but I would maintain the pace until she was ready to explode.
Then I would fill her with my royal seed as she screamed my name, and we would let nature take its course. And if nature didn’t take its course the first time, we would try again and again until it did.
I would give my father his grandson. The Rostov name would live on. It was my duty to make that happen. And as I watched Rebecca coming from the corner of my eye, I knew I was going to enjoy the task.
* * *
“How was your shower?” she asked as I emerged from the bathroom with a towel around my neck. I had packed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that had the Rostov crest on the front. I’d put them on before coming out of the bathroom.
I had thought about just walking out of the bathroom naked, but the cold was not kind to a man’s cock and balls. I had been worried about nothing. Even though a storm raged outside, it was toasty in the small apartment, thanks to an ancient-looking wood-burning stove in one corner of the living room.
“The shower felt amazing,” I said, rubbing the towel against my hair. “Thanks for letting me use it.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile that quickly faded. “I mean, you’re welcome.” She gestured to the small kitchen table. “I have you some soup ready. It might be a little hot, so be careful.”
I sat down in the chair and leaned down to smell the soup. It was a vegetable soup of some kind. If it was anything like her coffee, the taste was going to be horrendous. Fortunately, we had a five-star Michelin chef who ran the kitchen in the royal palace, so Rebecca’s cooking wouldn’t be an issue—unless it killed me before I got her home.
“So, Nick,” she said, curling up in the chair across the table from me. She had changed into a bathrobe and fuzzy socks. She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Tell me about yourself.”
“What would you like to know?” I asked. I ate a spoonful of the soup and was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t entirely terrible. In fact, it was quite good. It was thick and tomato-y and felt wonderful going down my throat. I took another spoonful and then another.
“You have an odd accent,” she said. “Where are you from?”
“I am from a small country near Russia called Kosnovia,” I said proudly. I had noticed before that my Russian accent broke through every time I said the name of my country. I’d worked hard at Oxford to lose the accent, thinking it was old school and not fit for the international stage where I would spend the rest of my life, but in times like these the accent returned and, according to several ladies who had given in to my charms, made me even sexier, if that was possible.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that,” she said with a frown. “Do you still live there?”
I licked soup from my lips and gave her a nod. “Actually, I’ve just returned there. I’ve spent the last few years studying international economics at Oxford in England.”
“Wow,” she said, her eyes wide. “I’ve only been out of Snowcap once and…” I noticed the light in her eyes momentarily go out. “Anyway, so you went to school in Oxford and now you’re back in Kosno…”
“Kosnovia,” I said with a smile. The little apartment was lit by several lamps that were placed around on tables. The kitchen was illuminated only by a light over the sink and a candle burning on the table between us. She looked beautiful, curled up on the chair with her chin resting on her knees and the light dancing in her eyes.
“What do you do there?” she asked. “In Kosnovia?”
I hesitated for a moment. Usually when I told people I was a Russian prince they looked at me as if I were insane. “Sure you are, and I’m the queen of England!” was the standard response.
I didn’t want Rebecca thinking that I was totally insane, at least not until after we were married, so I lied.
“I’m going to teach economics at the university,” I said. “That’s why I was headed to the Overlook Lodge, for an economic summit.”
“How exciting your life must be,” she said with a dreamy sigh.
“Tell me about your life,” I said.
The smile faded from her lips as she let her eyes go around the room. “You’re looking at it, I’m afraid.”
I leaned in and gave her a warm smile. It was taking every ounce of willpower I could muster not to rip off her robe and bend her over the kitchen table. My cock was ready for round two. It moved in my pants, as if it could sense her pussy near. Sometimes I thought the damn thing had a mind of its own. God forbid it should ever wrestle control of my body from my brain. I would not be held responsible for the havoc that might ensue.
“This doesn’t look like such a bad life to me,” I said, leaning in and giving her the warmest smile I could muster. “Carl said you owned the bar. How did someone like you come to own a place like this?” I winked at her playfully. “And I mean that in a most respectful way.”
Her smile made me sigh. “My mom and dad were from Snowcap,” she said, staring at the table between us as she spoke. “They opened this bar before I was born, when this was a thriving tourist area. Since the Overlook opened, Snowcap has pretty much died. Anyway, Mom left when I was young. She hated the weather and the bar and, I guess, my dad. She ran off with another man. My dad raised me. I started working here when I was a kid and never stopped. My dad had a heart attack a few years ago behind the bar. I took it over and, well, here I am.”
“Does it make you sad that you’ve never traveled the world?” I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to bring it to the forefront. “I mean, again, no offense, but there is a great big world outside these walls. Do you ever think about leaving?”
She blinked at me. “Leave Snowcap?”
“Yes, to see what’s out there.”
She looked away. “I left once. It didn’t work out so well.”
I rested my elbows on the table and spread out my hands. “Maybe you left with the wrong man.”
CHAPTER TEN: Rebecca
“What did you say?”
Nick blinked at me as if the words were rewinding in his head. He gave me a nervous smile and said, “I’m sorry?”
I had been sitting with my knees up and my arms wrapped around my legs. I let my feet drop to the floor and leaned in to lower my voice. “You said ‘maybe you left with the wrong man.’ What exactly did you mean by that?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. His eyes darted around my face as he leaned back from the table. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Yes, you did,” I said, eyeing him warily now. Shit. I knew this night wasn’t going to go the way I had planned. “What did Carl tell you while I was in the kitchen?”
He blinked at me. “He didn’t tell me anything.”
“He didn’t tell you about me leaving town with a guy named Charlie Feenie?”
Turned out, Nick was not a great liar. I could almost hear the gears turning inside his head as he processed the answer that would prove to me that this was not all just
a set up. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. I waited for him to say, “The old man said you fucked a guy and left town with him, so I figured, what the hell, she’ll probably fuck me, too!”
“Rebecca,” he said softly, “there’s no need to get upset.”
I pressed my palms into the tabletop and gritted my teeth at him. “What did Carl tell you?”
He held my gaze for a moment, and then his shoulders fell as he gave me a placating smile. “Look, Carl said that you had left town for a while and returned, but that has nothing to do with this.”
“This?” I leaned into the table until it cut into my ribs. I glared at him. “Exactly what do you mean by this?”
“Well, I mean…”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Would your car really not start?”
His eyes blinked like a slot machine.
“Look, there’s no need to get upset,” he said, smiling at me with those big brown eyes that had probably made dozens of girls melt like the snow in springtime. “This was not planned. It just happened. Fate has drawn us together. This was meant to be.”
I clenched my hands into fists on the table. “What was meant to be?”
He smiled and held out his hands as if he were going to hug me.
“My dear Rebecca, this, you and I, here, now, was meant to be. Fate has brought us together.”
I frowned at him. He was talking like a madman. He had a glean in his eye. There was a pistol in the nightstand drawer next to my bed. I wondered if I could fight him off long enough to reach it.
“Fate has brought us together for what?” I asked.
I planted my heels on the cold floor and prepared to bolt for the bedroom door. If I could reach my pistol, I’d force him to get out of my apartment. Or shoot him and dump him in the snow to freeze. It would be his choice. I’d never let a man harm me again.
He let the smile drop from his face and held up his hands. He said, “This may sound insane, but please, bear with me.”
