Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
SOFIYA
T he darkness slowly leaves me as I wake up. Blinking, I stare at the ceiling, realizing I’m in Mikhail’s bedroom.
And Mikhail is standing over the bed, staring down at me.
I jerk away from him. “Don’t hurt me,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut.
Mikhail sighs. “I won’t hurt you. Sofiya, look at me. Let me explain.”
“Explain what? That you were beating that woman?”
“Look at me,” he repeats more firmly.
I open my eyes and force myself to meet his gaze. It’s overpowering. For a moment, I think I might pass out again.
“I’m a dom,” he says.
“A dom? What’s that?”
“You’ve never heard of a dominant/submissive relationship before?”
“No,” I whisper. My father kept me sheltered from most things in life.
“A dom is someone who likes to be in control. I like to have a woman submit to me. In all areas of life. Eventually, I want you to be that way. But I know this is all new for you, and I didn’t want to push you too hard. I had planned to introduce you to the lifestyle over time, but then you saw what you saw.”
“What I saw didn’t make any sense. You were beating her.”
“I was spanking her. She liked it.”
My breath gets caught in my throat. It feels like I’m sinking through the mattress. “I don’t understand.”
“Some people get aroused from pain.” He holds my gaze as he says this. I’m acutely aware of my body. The way my top clings to my chest. The way my skirt flares out around my hips. The tiny scrap of underwear underneath my skirt is the only thing protecting me from Mikhail.
“What you saw,” he continues, “was a form of play. The woman, Irina, has been my main sub for a long time. Everything is consensual.”
“She agreed to let you …” I gulp. “Spank her?”
“Yes.”
His simple word sends a jolt through me. “So … you and this woman are in a relationship together?”
“A dominant/submissive one. Nothing else.”
I feel like I’m taking crazy pills, but I need to know the answers. “What does a relationship like that entail?”
“I use her body for my pleasure, and she lets me. I spank her, flog her, sometimes whip her. She loves it. And then, we usually fuck.”
I gasp. How can my husband be saying these things to me? He has an entirely other relationship with a woman. On the plane, the flight attendant, Elizabeth, made it very clear Mikhail loved to partake in orgies, so it’s not surprising he likes more … unusual things. I know Mikhail is a man with experience. That he has certain appetites I can’t fill.
But I just assumed that meant sex. Now, I realize it’s so much more.
If I can’t even have sex with him, how can I partake in anything else? The thought makes me shudder. Mikhail has awoken something in my body, but he also scares me.
I also realize I’m a little jealous. He told me he’ll be the only one to touch me, and yet that rule doesn’t apply to him.
“Were you planning on … sleeping with her tonight?” I finally ask.
Mikhail’s lips twitch up. “Sleeping with her? You can say fuck, Sofiya.” I blush. He leans in closer to me. “Though, I do love your innocence.” His eyes flick down to my lips and back up to my eyes.
I make a point of scooting farther away from him. I need to think right now, and I can’t think with Mikhail looking at me like this.
“To answer your question,” he says, “no. I didn’t plan on fucking her tonight. Normally, I would. But now that we’re married, you’re the only one I want to be with.”
“But you were still in that room with her.”
“Just to do a scene together. We already had it on the schedule. I couldn’t disappoint her. She needed her dom to tell her what to do.”
A flash of hot jealousy rushes through me. “Shouldn’t it be me who you don’t want to disappoint?”
He sits on the bed—so close to me—and skims his fingers over my arm. Instantly, goosebumps arise on my skin. I don’t pull away, but I also don’t move closer. Frankly, I don’t know how to feel.
“You’re right,” he says. “You’re mine now. I want you to be happy here. But I also need you to understand I’m in control here. That you serve me.”
“But I’m not a …” What did he call it?” A submissive.”
“You naturally are. Which is why you’re perfect and why I wanted you. I could tell by the way you danced on that stage. By the way you averted your eyes when anyone else looked at you. By the way you didn’t put up a fight when I told you we would marry. You’re naturally submissive, Sofiya. And you will be my sub. Soon enough. When you’re ready, that is.”
“When will that be?”
“When I say so.”
I drop my gaze to my knees. Mikhail wants to spank me—that’s pretty much what he’s telling me. Panic seizes my heart. “I don’t want you to hurt me.” Tears begin to fall from my eyes before I can stop them.
For just a small moment, Mikhail’s eyes soften. “I’m not going to hurt you, Sofiya. But I will push your body. It will be for your pleasure. Always your pleasure.”
“And yours?” I whisper.
“And mine, too.”
I look toward the door, thinking of that naked woman downstairs—Irina. “What about Irina? Are you going to … continue to see her?”
“I will, yes.” I flinch. “Until you’re ready to become my sub.” He cups my cheek. “But Irina isn’t the one I can’t stop thinking about. She just fills my desires until you’re ready.”
I have no choice but to meet his eyes again as he holds my face in his strong hand. “What if I’m never ready?”
“You will be. For me, you will be.”
How can I tell Mikhail that he both excites and frightens me?
“Is Andrei a … dom, too?”
“He is. We like to do scenes together. Sometimes, we share women.”
I jerk away from him. “You share women? Like …”
“Yes. Andrei has fucked Irina before. It doesn’t bother me.”
My head is swimming. Mikhail really is a stranger to me. And now I’m married to him and stuck living in his home in a country where I don’t even speak the language.
Realization dawns in Mikhail’s eyes. “He won’t touch you, Sofiya. I would never share you.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that.”
He rubs his thumb along my cheek, comforting me. “You don’t have to say anything. I am a man with needs. With desires. And I desire you and no one else. I will never let another man touch you. You’re mine and only mine.”
But you’re not mine , I want to say. He still has Irina, and he won’t give her up until I’m ready. Ready for what, I’m not exactly sure. I just know I’m not ready to have sex with Mikhail, and if I’m not ready to have sex, I’m not sure I’ll be ready for anything he was doing in that room.
“Mikhail,” I whisper, unsure what I’m going to say.
His eyes darken as he leans in closer to me. I gasp. And then he kisses me.
It’s gentle but powerful. Mikhail kisses like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing. It makes me feel inadequate because I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve watched kisses on TV and in movies, but I’ve never done it before. Father would never have allowed it.
Thinking about my father makes me think of my mother and her kind face, words, and comforting touch.
I start to cry as Mikhail and I kiss. My tears slip down my face and brush my lips, intermingling with our kiss. Mikhail pulls away, a frown on his face.
“I’ve never made a woman cry from a kiss before.”
My tears are impossible to stop. It’s the release I’ve been looking for since my parents’ funeral. I haven’t had a good cry since then.
I curl into a ball and let the tears come. Instead of getting angry, Mikhail wraps his arms around me and holds me, which only makes me cry harder. He shouldn’t be comforting me. He should be pushing me to the side. It would make it easier to hate him. Easier to be repulsed by him.
But I’m not repulsed by him. And I definitely don’t hate him. I don’t really know how I feel for him—just that it’s complicated.
Eventually, I stop crying, and I wipe my tears as I pull away from him. “I was thinking about my mother,” I admit.
“While we kissed? I’ve never had that reaction before.”
“No. I was thinking about how my father never let me kiss anyone, and then it made me think of my mother, and then I was crying.”
He shifts on the bed. It’s only then I realize we’re on the bed together. “You were close? With your mother?”
“Yes. She was kind. She’d know exactly what to say to me right now.”
“And what’s that?”
“That everything will be all right.”
He swipes his thumb along my cheek, wiping away my stray tears. “Everything will be all right. You’re mine now, Sofiya. You’re the most protected woman on this earth. No one will hurt you.”
But you , I think. You want to hurt me . Mikhail wants to spank me like he was doing to Irina. The thought makes me cold.
“You were my first kiss,” I whisper.
“Good. I will be your first everything.”
My knees press together tighter. Why do I always feel a twinge of arousal when Mikhail says those things to me? He’s arrogant to assume he’ll get all my firsts, but I know he’s right. He will get all my firsts.
And I think I might want him to have them.
“I’ll leave you to sleep,” he says, standing up. “It’s late.”
“I slept most of the day. Jet lag.”
“You need to get on a normal routine. Go to sleep.”
“But I’m hungry.”
Mikhail turns the full force of his eyes onto me. “You will eat in the morning. Go to sleep now, Sofiya.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have to finish things with Irina.” His words jab me straight to the heart. I know we don’t have a normal marriage. Mikhail never made any vows to be faithful. I just have to hope he won’t sleep with her. That he’ll keep that one promise.
I watch him leave the bedroom and shut the door, and the sudden pain of loneliness hits me more than I’m ready for. I gasp and curl back into a ball.
I stay that way the rest of the night.
VIKTORIYA
“I can’t believe this,” I say over breakfast after Mila tells me Boris showed up last night, telling her they’ll marry. “He held a gun to your head?”
Mila nods, her wide eyes. Scared, she looks younger than usual. “It was terrifying.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Because you’ve had a trying day, and I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Mila.” I push my plate away from me. “You’re my sister. I want to protect you. I will not let Boris marry you. We will find a way out of this.”
She opens her mouth, closes it, and then opens it again before shutting it again.
“Spit it out,” I grumble.
“You say you want to protect me, but … you didn’t do a good job of protecting Sofiya.”
Her words smack me in the face. “Sofiya doesn’t need my protection. She can handle herself. Besides, she made a good marriage match. She’s set for life.”
“Sofiya is in Russia and hasn’t called us yet. Sofiya would call. Why hasn’t she?”
“I’m sure she’s just busy.”
Mila shakes her head and stands up. “Sofiya is never too busy to make time for me. Something is wrong. You wanted her gone so she wouldn’t be competition to you. You didn’t protect her, Vik. So, how can you protect me? Boris wants me now, and I’m scared he’ll get what he wants.”
I grab her hand. “I won’t let that happen.”
“I want to believe you.” She stares down at me with sad eyes. “I really want to believe you.”
I want to snap at Mila to stop being foolish. That, of course , I’ll protect her.
But I know deep down she has a point. I didn’t protect Sofiya because I was jealous and wanted Mikhail for myself. Well, I won’t make the same mistake with Mila. I’ll find a way to get her out of this.
The sudden weight of the realization that I’m just a woman in a man’s world hits me harder than anything ever has before.
SOFIYA
When I wake up, I find Mikhail next to me. I tossed and turned last night until sleep finally took me. At that point, Mikhail still hadn’t returned. Looking at him now, I see he obviously joined me at some point. I don’t know how to feel about Mikhail sleeping beside me. But this is his room, his bed, after all. Still, it’s strange. I’ve never slept next to anybody except my sisters and they don’t really count.
I slip out of bed, careful not to disturb him, and go into the closet and choose an outfit. A simple floral printed white dress. I glance toward the bedroom before quickly stripping my clothes off. Mikhail has seen me naked before, but I’m not in the mood to repeat that.
I grab underwear and a bra. Lacy, I notice. All lace. My face flushes at the thought of Mikhail buying lingerie for me. He did it with me in mind.
I’m standing there, fully naked, when I hear a creak behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see Mikhail in the doorway, watching me.
I gasp and stumble back, bringing the flimsy undergarments to my body.
“I want to dress you,” he says so casually it takes a moment to realize what he’s saying.
“Dress me?”
“You need to start learning that I’m in control here. That when I tell you something, you will obey. I want to dote on you, Sofiya. So, I’m going to dress you.” He walks into the closet and right up to me, which feels like too much. Even though the closet is a walk-in, it’s still small enough for his presence to intimidate me. My lips part as I stare up at him.
He grabs the underwear and kneels before me. He can see my fully naked body. There’s no hiding anything. “Lift your foot,” he says, tapping my right ankle. I practically jump out of my skin.
After a moment, I do as he says. He slips the underwear around my foot. “Now, the other one.” I lift my left foot. Mikhail skims his fingers along my legs as he pulls my underwear up. Breath doesn’t make sense to me right now. I keep my eyes glued to the closet wall as I feel him set my underwear in place. His fingers lightly touch my pubic mound before he stands up. A flash of arousal hits me.
Mikhail trails his fingers up my stomach to my breasts. I hold carefully still as he presses each thumb against my nipples. I gasp as he lets me go. “Your bra.”
It’s only then I remember I’m holding it. I quickly hand it to him. He slips the bra onto me, expertly clipping it without looking.
He steps back, eyeing me over. “You look good in pink. Innocent.”
“My dress?” I point to it on the hanger.
He takes it off and brings it over my head, helping me get into it. Finally, I’m fully clothed, which helps me breathe.
“I have work to attend to,” he tells me. “You have free rein of the house.” With one more look at me, he walks away, leaving me shaken.
I head into the kitchen, where Mary is cooking breakfast.
“Here,” she says, setting a plate down before me. Eggs and ham. “Eat. Before it gets cold.” Mary’s snappish tone makes me quickly pick up my fork and dig into the food.
My eyes fall on the landline. It’s only now I realize I don’t have my cell phone. I left it back at the theater when Boris took me. Mikhail never retrieved it for me, and now, I have no way to call my sisters.
Except for Mikhail’s phone.
I get up and walk toward it, but Mary steps into my path. “What are you doing?” she asks curtly. “You should be eating.”
“I wanted to call my sisters.”
“No.”
I raise an eyebrow. “No? Why not?”
“Because Mr. Ivanov didn’t give you permission to use his phone. Now, turn around, sit down, and eat your food.”
“But I want to talk to my sisters. I have a right.” When Mary doesn’t budge, I sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask Mikhail for permission.”
“No. He’s working. You will leave him alone. Eat your food. Mr. Ivanov wanted you to eat breakfast. He said you were hungry. So, eat.”
There’s no way I’m getting past Mary, so I sit back down and eat, making a mental note to ask Mikhail later if I can use the phone.
Later never comes because Mikhail is busy with work all day. Even when I get ready for bed, he doesn’t show. Mila must be worried sick that I haven’t called her yet, and it’s not like she can call here—she doesn’t have Mikhail’s number. Vik is probably ecstatic I’m out of the picture. I’m gone, so she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore.
I fall asleep thinking of my sisters’ faces and wake up later to the sound of screaming.
I jump out of bed and run into the hall, then freeze. The screaming is coming from downstairs. It’s female.
I slowly inch my way to the staircase and look down. No one in the living room. Careful not to step on a creaky stair, I make my way downstairs. I look in the kitchen—empty. I grab a large knife for good measure. My eyes land on the phone— if only some woman wasn’t screaming, right now would be the perfect time to call my sisters. I eye the phone longingly, then turn toward the sound. My sisters will have to wait. I need to save whoever’s screaming in pain.
I get closer and closer to the door. The door that leads to Mikhail’s dom/sub room. What’s going on? What’s he doing?
I push the door open and stop. That same woman—Irina—is bent over a bench. Mikhail is behind her, whipping her across the butt. Every time he does, she screams.
But it’s only then I realize her face is pinched in pleasure. Not pain. She’s enjoying it.
Mikhail stops when he sees me in the doorway. “Sofiya.”
I hold the knife up higher. “You’re hurting her. And you said you want to do this to me.”
Irina glances up at me with an annoyed expression. “We’re busy right now. Can you leave?”
“You’re a monster,” I whisper, staring at Mikhail.
“No. Sofiya, you don’t understand.”
“You’re a monster.” I take off running again.
I hear Mikhail’s thunderous footsteps behind me before he grabs my arm. “You’re going to hurt yourself with that knife.” He rips it from my hand and tosses it away. “Sofiya, stop.”
I do stop, but not because I want to. Because I’m afraid of what he’ll do if I don’t listen to him.
“You’ve taken what you saw out of context. Irina loves to be whipped. She craves pain. It’s what gives her pleasure.” He steps back and holds out his hand. “Come with me.”
“What?”
“I want you to watch.”
“ What ?” I jerk away.
“I want you to see that something like this can be pleasurable. But don’t worry. I will not whip you. I have no desire to scar your pretty skin. Irina needs this to come.”
“Come?”
“Orgasm,” he explains.
“You want me to watch another woman …? What sick game is this? Are you trying to hurt me?”
“I’m trying to get you to understand. I told you I would push you, Sofiya. This is how I’m pushing you.” He stands up straighter. “You will go into that room and watch until I can say you can go. You will not argue with me about this. Understood?”
I want to argue. I want to scream and cry.
But I don’t.
The way Mikhail just commanded me to listen to him sends my heart fluttering. It sends a throb of pleasure straight to my core.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then take my hand.”
I do as he instructs.
Inside the room, it smells musky—like sex. I want to dig my heels in when I see Irina laid out over the bench, her backside covered in red welts, but I don’t. Mikhail wants me to watch, so I’ll watch.
He sits me down in a chair. “You will not leave until I say so. You will also never look away. You will watch this.”
I slowly nod. My heart is pounding so fast, it hurts.
Mikhail walks back over to Irina and picks up the whip. Then he hits her with it. Again. And again. And again. Every time, Irina moans while I flinch. She even wiggles her butt closer to him. How can someone enjoy this?
Mikhail’s commanding presence does things to my body. But pain? I’ve already experienced pain when I lost my mother. I don’t want to feel pain ever again.
The harder Mikhail whips her, the more Irina seems to enjoy it. I grip the edge of the chair until my fingers are white and cramping. Irina’s moans annoy me. The sound grates on my ears. I don’t want to hear Mikhail pleasuring another woman, even if it is through pain. A dark part of me wants Irina to be crying because it hurts so much. Instead, she’s moaning because it hurts, not in spite of it.
Mikhail uses the whip closer to the bottom part of her butt—closer to her vagina. I gulp. He’s whipping her there. His strokes are more gentle, but he’s still using pain on that part of her body. Irina confuses me. How did she even discover this part of herself?
I’m leaning forward, rapt in fascination. What I’m watching scares me, but it’s undeniably hard to look away from.
And then Irina moans, louder than before, as her body shudders. Her eyes roll back, and she calls out Mikhail’s name. I hate that. I don’t want another woman to call out his name.
Ever.
As Irina comes, Mikhail looks up at me and catches my eyes. He doesn’t look away once. I’m caught by his invisible grip.
It’s only when Irina’s moans stop that Mikhail looks at her. “You can leave,” he tells me.
I jerk upright. “What?”
“I said you can leave, Sofiya. I need to make sure Irina is cared for. You don’t need to be here to see that.”
His words punch my heart. He’s going to make sure she’s ok, and he doesn’t want me there to see it. How can he hurt me like this?
Mikhail looks back up at me with a frown as I remain glued to the chair. “Sofiya,” he warns darkly.
I stand up, tears filling my eyes, before I run from the room. I can feel his gaze on me as I leave, which gives me some satisfaction.
But that just makes it hurt more when he shuts the door, locking me out of whatever he and Irina will do together, alone.