by Kendall Duke
“Who took care of you then?” The ice cream was delicious. I really hoped my stomach would cooperate and let me keep it all inside. I didn’t even know where the bathroom was in this place yet.
Ivan looked confused. “Take care of me?”
“Yes,” I said, taking another bite.
“I grown man, no one take care of me,” he said, frowning.
“At fifteen?” I stared at him.
“At fifteen it is my job to take care of my mother, not her job to take care of me.” Ivan didn’t seem to understand my reaction. He stood up and poured some water into a glass from a crystal decanter, plunking some ice cubes down before he finished it in one gulp. “You are alone since you are twelve, da?”
That’s when my ‘nanny’ stopped coming. “I don’t think it’s the same thing,” I said, but I didn’t want to dwell on it. It was long ago, and the important thing was that our own child would never know such loneliness. “Ivan, thank you for the ice cream,” I told him, and when I stood up he came over to me, immediately holding my hands in his own. He’d read my mind; I was ready to go to bed.
Ivan took me through the suite, which was basically a very large apartment. I couldn’t begin to fathom what it would cost to keep such a place. He explained that he actually owned the hotel, which this was technically a part of, but as it was reserved for him it functioned as a private residence in spite of the name. “Is all legal,” he said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. I refrained from asking for details I probably didn’t want. He showed me more of the magnificent skyline, the entire city glowing in front of us; with the lights out we could see all the way to Maryland and Virginia. We could probably have seen my old house, if I knew where to look.
When we got to the bedroom I felt lost for words. It was huge—the master bedroom at my house had been very large, by any reasonable standards, but this was grandiose. Monstrous, almost. I tried to find signs of the Ivan I knew and loved in the big room and couldn’t; Ivan was so bluntly unpretentious that it was very hard to imagine him choosing to live in such a courtly, gilded room, but I guess he had….
And he’d probably done a lot more than sleep in this room, too.
I felt my stomach drop. I was not the jealous type, not ever, not even a little bit, but something about sleeping in the bed where the father of my child had fucked probably hundreds of women silly just didn’t appeal to me. Not one bit.
“Julie?” As ever, he noticed something was wrong and immediately came to my side. “What’s wrong?” He looked around at the gigantic room and twisted his mouth in a way I’d never seen before. “Is not very… I tell you I like being in your house, and this is true. I like the rooms where I could look and say, Julie pick this table. Julie like this lamp.” He’d known instantly how much of my old house was just bric-a-brac my father stocked from IKEA and which places I’d made my own, with things I loved. “But this place… I tell you again, milaya, I did not make good choice, I only very young man.”
“Yes,” I said, and he was right, of course; the room was cold and beautiful but uninviting… But that wasn’t what was bothering me. I gulped. I didn’t want to tell him how insecure I felt.
“Julie?” He was starting to get that worried look in his eyes I saw whenever I got morning sickness. I shook my head to let him know that wasn’t the problem, and he waited for me to explain, biting his lip.
There was nothing for it. “Ivan, how many women have slept in this bed?”
Ivan said nothing for a long minute, staring at me. Finally, he stood up very straight. “None, Julie. I not let women sleep in this bed,” he said, but then quietly continued, looking at me, “this not what bother you, is it?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling young and foolish. “I mean, not sleeping. But you know what I’m asking, really, right?”
He did. I could tell by the set of his mouth. Finally he got down on one knee in front of me and put his hands on either side of my face. “Julie, my love, I will fix this for you, but not tonight. Tomorrow, we get new furniture—whatever you want, money is no worry. I will pull down the wall for you, put in new lights, anything—this I promise you. But I cannot do this right now. For tonight, you must know you will be last woman to ever sleep in this bed with me.”
That was good enough. And I certainly didn’t need him to pull down the light fixtures for me—I might like some more inviting furniture, and the gold and cream wallpaper was really a bit much—but I wanted a different feel to the room. Something that spoke to who Ivan and I were, together, instead of who he was when he first arrived in the United States as a lost seventeen year old kid, trained to murder people. It made me so sad.
And the ghosts of all the women doubtlessly pleasured beyond their breaking points were not helping me either.
I stood for a moment, staring at the big bed. It was even larger than the California King back at my house… My father’s house. The place I could never return to. Ivan came and stood beside me.
And then, very slowly, I felt his hands on my body. Sliding my coat off of my shoulders, gently pulling my arms free. Tugging my shirt off over my head, sliding his palms across my belly so he could sit on the edge of the bed in front of me, his nimble fingers unbuttoning my pants. He loosed the shoestrings on my sneakers but didn’t pull them off, and then stood up again and moved behind me. Something told me to stand perfectly still, so I obeyed my instincts, as if I were a gazelle in the wild, knowing a lion moved in the reeds around me. Ivan unsnapped my bra, letting it fall forward so my breasts were exposed to the cool air. Then he reached down, letting his chin rest on my shoulder as his hands wrapped around me from behind and slid my pants down over my hips, and then my underwear. “Ivan—” My shoes were still on, and with my pants down I was effectively trapped… Which turned out to be exactly the point.
Ivan tipped me onto the bed, my legs locked together inside of my bunched up pants. I tried not to feel as ungraceful as I must have looked, or as self-conscious; I was suddenly on my hands and knees are the largest bed I’d ever seen, completely bare with my ass in the air.
“You did not finish apologizing to me earlier,” Ivan said slowly, and I felt his hands on my ass cheeks as he slid his rough palms across my skin. “When you were cruel to me, Julie.”
How he could think of sex after the night we had, I didn’t know. And I wasn’t my usual libido driven self, either, given the events of our evening and the fact that I was now in the same position many women probably had been before me, in the same bed, in the same damn room. “Ivan—”
“Did you feel guilty for making me think you would cheat on me?”
I sucked in a deep breath. The answer to this question, of course, was yes. But I’d already—WHAM! Ivan’s palm landed sharply on the center of my left cheek, making me squeal. “Ivan!”
“Did you?” His voice was velvet gravel. “I hope answer is yes, milaya.”
“I already apologized to you!” I snapped at him, then started to twist so I could see his face when—WHAM! His hand landed on my other cheek, the blood rushing to the surface to meet it. I inhaled sharply, feeling my body respond; my back arched, my legs opened, my pussy flushed with heat. My interior was probably glistening in front of him, wet for him to see.
Ivan knew exactly what he was doing to me. He slid a finger along the cleft, his long finger brushing my anus, before he allowed one to linger in my center. After my body bucked towards him, begging silently, he gave me a little taste and slipped it inside. He teased me for an interminable moment, then pulled out and used both hands to squeeze and separate my cheeks, opening me more. Ivan didn’t bother responding to my protest; it was just an excuse to ignite the spark that was always smoldering between us. He sank his tongue inside of me and I felt my clit begin to throb, begging to be sucked. When I said his name this time, it was with the rush of desire that filled my body. “Ivan, please—” He abruptly pulled out and began to lap at the folds, carefully avoiding my clit. “Ivan, please, I need it—” I tri
ed to guide him towards my clit but he reached underneath my torso with both long arms and grasped my breasts, squeezing my nipples until I cried out. He stroked them then, making them hard, elongated buds, and I felt them drag on the silk duvet as he returned his hands to my ass and allowed his tongue to sweep below, teasing my clit as I moaned with relief. I felt the orgasm humming inside of me. It began to throb as he worked, and when one of his long fingers slipped back inside of me I knew I was about to erupt. Ivan licked my pussy from clit to anus and then sucked my button, hard, making me shudder as the orgasm wracked my spine. I screamed his name, hearing the sound echo in the giant room around us, and rocked into his face, not caring that he was positioned so precariously behind me, not caring about anything at all. Ivan fucked me with his tongue, making my body ripple with ecstasy until I was flat on my stomach, my legs as wide as they could go while still restrained. Ivan gently pinioned my pants with his own knees as he leaned in to my center, stroking my damp skin with the velvet head of his cock. When he entered me, he kept it shallow, teasing me with his girth until I shivered and felt myself ready to cum for him again. My ass was high in the air, his hands grasping it firmly, his lithe body positioned to piston in to me… But instead he kept it gentle, light, opening me with his broad cock but not plunging all the way in so far that it hurt. I liked it like that, but I liked this too. I shattered and came for him again, screaming his name once more so loudly they could probably hear it downstairs. Ivan felt me convulse on his cock and emptied into me, sighing my name lightly as he did. When he was done, he quickly stood up and peeled my sneakers and pants off completely before laying me down and yanking the comforter over my body. I was already half asleep, giving in to the delights he’d shown me. I didn’t care any more that he’d probably done the same thing to dozens of other women in this bed. I slept dreamlessly.
~~~
Ivan was beside me, my body nestled into his longer, broader torso, warm and safe, when I woke. Sunlight was crawling slowly over the edge of the sky, creeping into the edges of the giant room. It didn’t look as gaudy in the morning light. I might have been biased, though, given the nice time I recently had in it, so I was feeling a little less critical. I stretched a bit and felt his lips on the back of my neck. He was already awake, and then his body announced itself below, the tip of his cock gently sliding back and forth over my still-damp slit.
“Good morning,” I whispered, and he kissed me in response. He didn’t go deeper, instead just lightly running the velvet head back and forth, back and forth, over my sensitive lips.
“Good morning, milaya,” he said, his rumble seducing me all over again. He pushed another inch inside while his hands ran over my skin, feeling me all over. His rough palms ran calloused trails over my hips, my back and belly, and then found the hot little button below. He tilted my leg up, hooking it in his strong arm behind the knee, and sank inside. Once again, he wasn’t so deep; his thrusts were rhythmic, controlled, even as I heard him gasp with the effort. His long cock could’ve allowed him to pound me, but he held back. We’d never made love like this before—with no restraints, no power exchange, no overt domination… Although he was definitely still running the show. I let him tease me into a trance state, feeling my body surrender again to the pleasure he so easily gave me. When my pussy clenched, preparing to orgasm, he swelled inside of me. I knew as he stiffened that he was close, but he still held back, arching away from my body, keeping only a few inches inside that he moved faster and faster, in and out of my ecstatically responsive tunnel. We came together, bursting with the orgasm that owned us, our bodies rocking in tandem until we were done.
I rolled away so I could look at him, and he blinked at me, his hands automatically reaching out as if he couldn’t bear to let me go. “You’re different,” I said softly, and reached back, placing my palm in his. “You’re not like you were at the house.”
“You mean, I am not so rough with you?” Ivan smiled at me, his face exquisite in the early morning sunlight. He ran his fingers through a lock of my hair that was splayed on out the mattress between us, his eyes thoughtful. “I am trying very hard. Do you like it, my Julie?”
“I do,” I said, surprising myself. “I wasn’t sure if I would… But I guess there’s so many things I don’t know…” I swallowed, feeling shy. “I don’t know anything about sex.”
“I do not agree,” Ivan said, raising that arched black brow as high as it would go.
“Well, before you,” I said, laughing, “I didn’t know anything.”
“You were still beautiful,” Ivan said softly, watching me. “I am sure if I was not the lucky one, someone would have love you.” He sighed. “I wish I was doctor. I wish I was someone good for my Julie.”
“Why are you being so gentle with me?” I studied his lovely face. “Is it because you think I’m good now?” I raised my own eyebrow and slapped his arm lightly. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“You are still naughty in bed, this is true,” Ivan said, rolling on to his back and putting his arms behind his head. He was magnificent. His muscles lolled lazily as he stretched, the sharp delineation of each one standing out in the light. He was masculine perfection. “But you have very good heart, Julie. You good person.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I said, and he glanced at me.
“No,” he said, then rolled back to face me. “No, it does not.” He met my eyes, his beautiful hazel ones taking me in. Ivan hesitated for a second, then continued in his usual blunt manner. “I think about what you say. When you feel strange about women I have here before. And I want different thing with you, too.” He gazed at me. “I love you—I never love anyone before. I want lick you, taste you; I never want before. I will be gentle, make sure your body is ready, is happy; I never care before. I take for granted I make happy, but I do not ask; I do not care. I love you. I am different with you—that is why sex is different.”
“I thought you were just worried about the baby,” I told him, and he nodded.
“I do not think the way we do this is safe for baby sometimes,” he told me. “I know you like to make me angry, make me… Punish you…” Ivan raised his eyebrow at me again. “I find different way to punish you, when you naughty.”
“I like the way we do it now,” I said, and was surprised to find myself responding even to the idea of being punished, as he said. But I was. I rolled onto my back, now, and watched his gaze go to my nipples, hard and sensitive, bright pink in the growing light. His body began to respond again as well. “I know you like it too,” I said, feeling shy but excited. “I know you like it a lot.”
“I want the baby to be safe,” he said, but as he spoke he reached down and slowly stroked himself, from base to tip, while taking in my reclining form. His thick, velvet cock was still damp from being inside of me, and I opened my legs and looked up at him, my eyes wide. “I want you,” he said, his voice husky, his hand tightening on the long shaft. “And I know you want this.” He bit his lip, and the sight of it almost made me moan out loud. “How we do this thing we like so much but keep baby safe?”
I hesitated for a moment, then came closer to him and ran my fingers over the silky trail of black hair that divided his broad pectoral muscles. Feeling bold, I teased him with my fingertips, running down his belly, finding my way to that special place at the bottom that had served me so well, so many times, giving me so much pleasure. Teaching me so much about myself. I licked my lips while Ivan’s eyes grew hooded, then tasted the tip of him with my tongue, teasing him gently at first, and then letting my tongue glide from the top to the bottom while he moaned uncontrollably. The tendons in his neck stood out as he watched me, and he hissed out a long breath when I took his head in my mouth. I couldn’t believe this monster had actually fit before, but that was in a very different position, and he helped me make it work. This time, he carefully laced his fingers together as if to keep himself from forcing my head further down the shaft, and I teased him slowly, taking him in a
nd out.
He tasted like my own juices, mixed with his, and when I was done tasting him I leaned up and kissed his lips, letting him experience the same. I gingerly climbed on top of him, feeling the wet underside of my body getting ready. I arched my back and allowed the shaft to slide along my cleft, teasing him again; when he finally couldn’t take it and reached for me I leaned back and shook my head at him. He growled. I slid once more along the heavy shaft, then allowed the tip to catch on my narrow opening and pushed him inside.
This was new, too; we’d never been in this position before. Ivan thrust up, his hips flexing and the hard muscles of his stomach rippling as he pushed into my body; I arched into it, feeling how deep he was and loving it. I heard myself moan as he rocked back out and tried to regain control. I wanted to guide him, to find out more about these gentle ways one could love, something neither of us had apparently ever experienced. I felt Ivan’s hands on my breasts and slowly rolled my own hips, and felt him stiffen below me. When I gazed into his eyes, I saw they were dilated, his teeth grinding together. “Are you alright?”
“You are so beautiful, my Julie,” he growled. “You make me so hard, I want cum already.”
“You’re not allowed to cum yet,” I said, once again shaking my head at him. His fingers teased my nipples to fine points, and it was my turn to gasp and arch into him. I rode him then, rocking backward and forward as I watched him gasp with pleasure. I tipped my body backward, giving his cock a different angle, and felt him hiss another exhale; he was plumping up even more inside of my body, and I cried out, feeling him get closer and closer. Finally, I couldn’t take it any more and my pussy began to squeeze him, contracting as I came. I screamed his name, feeling him thrust up in to me from below, but when I didn’t feel his heated seed fill me I looked down and saw his face.
Ivan was staring up at me with pure joy and fascination. He looked as though he were watching a sunset for the first time. “My beautiful girl,” he said, reaching up to run his hands through my hair. “My beautiful American girl.” And then, just as suddenly as my body had succumbed to pleasure, Ivan flipped me onto my back and pinned my hands above my head.
