Most of the people here tower over me, the women teetering on high heels, the men tall and well-dressed, a lot of them with tattooed arms. I have to fight to keep my expression neutral, to suppress the urge to let my mouth fall open and gawk. This is Andrei’s kind of crowd?
My husband is guiding me to the front of the line, garnering us some bitter scowls from those waiting to get in. I whisper to Andrei, “Don’t we need to go to the back of the line?”
“The owner’s husband is an old business contact of mine,” he replies simply.
I feel like that may not be a sufficient excuse, but I don’t say a word. The burly guy at the door gives Andrei a nod and lets us through without hesitation, causing some guys to angrily shout, “Hey!” from behind us.
“Oh, settle down,” orders the door guy, without even looking up from his phone.
Once inside, we walk down a curving corridor. I am immediately assaulted by the sensation of pounding, pulsating music. The deep, reverberating bass and the fast pace of the music makes me feel instantly out of place. I’ve never listened to anything but classical music and hymns, as my father always insists that “popular music is the root of sin in today’s youth culture” and therefore, all access to radio and television media were very restricted. I’ve also never seen this many people in one place, this close together, moving like this.
Dancing.
I cling helplessly, fearfully to Andrei’s side. I have never been allowed to dance or to watch anyone else dance. It is a direct path to temptation and sin. It’s utterly immoral for people to move together this way! At least, that’s what I’ve been told my whole life.
Perhaps Andrei picks up on my intense fear, because he wraps an arm around me in a surprising gesture of protection and warmth, his fingers gently brushing through my hair.
“Is it too much?” he asks, leaning in close so I can hear his voice through the deafening music. I shrug and shake my head, not wanting to admit my true feelings. He raises an eyebrow at my silence, clearly not convinced, and guides me through the crowd to a counter where lots of people are seated on glossy bar stools. There are shelves upon shelves of multicolored bottles of varying shapes and sizes.
Alcohol. Another vestige of a sinful world. ‘The devil’s drink,’ my father calls it.
I gulp back my fear as Andrei muscles us through the throngs of swaying, laughing people to get us about a foot’s width of space at the counter. His arm is crooked around me, accidentally pinning me against the bar. A tall, pretty girl with cropped hair dyed blue at the tips is working the counter, taking incomprehensible drink orders from the already-buzzed crowd with a cool, collected ease.
When she catches sight of Andrei, she does a double-take, then gives him a familiar nod and smirk. She slides over and says, “Long time no see! Been busy lately?”
Before he can answer, her eyes fall on me and her smile widens. “Guess that answers my question. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
I struggle to make my voice heard over the pounding din. “C-Cassie.”
“Nice to meet ya, I’m Natalie. Whatcha drinkin’ tonight, hon?”
Andrei interjects, “She’s underage, Natalie. But she’ll have a cranberry juice, and I’ll have a — ”
“Yeah, yeah, vodka tonic. Creature of habit, this one,” the bartender adds to me.
She turns and prepares our drinks so quickly it astounds me, then spins back to us and sets it on the bar counter with a smile. When Andrei tries to hand her cash, she purses her lips and shakes her head.
“Nah, you know it’s on the house. Have a good time! And look after Miss Cassie here,” Natalie tells him with a wink. Andrei lifts his drink in a kind of casual salute and guides me back away to a corner table, the two of us skirting the dance floor.
“You must be very popular,” I remark.
Andrei shrugs. “Like I said, this place is the most like home for me.”
“Is Natalie from Siberia, too?” I ask genuinely.
He chuckles and takes a sip of his drink. “No, no. But I am a regular here.”
“What does that taste like?” I gesture shyly toward his vodka tonic.
Offering the little glass to me, he says, “Try it for yourself.”
“But… I’m underage,” I protest, even as I take the glass from him.
“It’s only a taste,” Andrei counters.
My father’s voice in the back of my head shouts at me sternly, urging me to put the glass down and resist temptation. Instead, I raise it to my lips and take the tiniest of sips. I immediately grimace at the bitter taste. A shudder runs through my body and Andrei looks like he might actually crack a smile.
“Don’t like it?”
Not wanting to seem rude, I deny it. “N-no, it’s… it’s good.” To prove my point I take a big, long gulp of the disgusting clear liquid and have to fight to keep it down.
Andrei reaches over and takes the drink back, his full lips finally breaking into a rare, captivating smile. “How do you feel?”
The effect is instantaneous. My head gets fuzzy and my limbs tingle. I almost want to laugh, for no real reason except that I feel pretty darn good. I lick my lips and can’t help but notice the way Andrei’s eyes dart to my mouth when I do it. That makes me feel some kind of warm sensation between my legs, and suddenly I want to do something crazy.
I want to dance.
Hopping down from the high-top bar stool, I reach for Andrei’s hand, swaying ever so slightly on my feet. He gives me a questioning look, but when I tug on his sleeve, he tosses back the rest of his drink in one deep draught, gets to his feet, and allows me to lead him into the pulsating throng of dancers.
My heart hammers in my chest. That warning voice in my mind is hissing at me to resist, resist, resist! But the alcohol combined with the hard, warm body of the man behind me radiates a numb determination around my body and I just need to move. We weave through the crowds to where the music beats loud and rhythmic above us and all around us, the bassline thumping alongside my heart. The conscious part of my brain is floundering because I don’t know how to dance. But some subconscious instinct takes over and seizes my limbs, making me sway, then raise my arms above my head and roll my hips side to side.
As though pulled by invisible marionette strings, I start to move with the music, and Andrei slides in close behind me, his arms coming down to keep me near. His large hands fall to my waist, rocking me, gently controlling the rhythm of my movements. I can feel his ticklish, vodka-tinged breath on my cheek, his lips brushing along the slope of my neck to press soft, teasing kisses against my jaw. His hands slide up and down my frame, squeezing my thighs, roving up my stomach to subtly brush over my breasts. The music, the sensation of his body against mine, and the intoxicating drink are sending me into a confusing state.
I’m dizzy and frightened and exhilarated all at once. I can feel a wetness growing between my thighs and suddenly I can’t stop myself from spinning around to face Andrei. I tilt my head up to look at him, peering into his dark eyes, his solid features, and my hands both go up to bring his face down closer to mine…
So I can kiss him.
At first, my lips are closed tight, and a cold nervousness threatens to unravel the moment. But then I remember that this is my husband. He chose me. And he wants me. My lips part and my tongue prods into his mouth, and he answers with the same. His hands slide into my hair and along my lower back, pulling me into him so that I can feel every rippling, tensing muscle of his body against my own.
There’s something long and hard against my leg, and I lean into it hungrily, without a single thought as to what it might mean. I kiss him in a way I never knew was possible for me. I kiss him like I’ve never seen before, save for one time…
My mind flashes momentarily back to the most scandalous thing I’ve ever seen, a memory which has sustained my flickering desires for love for years. I was fourteen, and it was one of the rare times when my mother allowed me to visit the park with her and Isaiah, who
was only a toddler then. He threw his ball, which rolled down a hill, and I went to fetch it for him.
At the bottom of the hill, several yards from where the ball had stopped rolling, there was a willow tree by a pond. Beneath the graceful, slim branches of the willow lay a couple, tangled up in each other’s arms and legs, their lips locked together in a passionate kiss. They were fully clothed, but there was such an obvious heat between them that they might as well have been naked, the only two human beings left in the world. They did not acknowledge me, and even though I knew it was a sin, I stood entranced, watching them for several minutes until my mother came looking for me. When she saw what I was looking at, she yanked me away by the arm, scolding me for being a voyeur, urging me to beg God’s forgiveness.
After that, I was never allowed to go to the park with them again, instead having to stay home and practice my piano lessons. But every time they went out and I was left alone at the black and white keys, my mind inevitably wandered back to that afternoon in the park. I wondered if I would ever know a passion like that.
And now, wrapped in Andrei’s arms, I feel a unique stirring deep inside me. It’s happening — despite the grim circumstances of our union, despite his coldness and my fear, things are beginning to change. He’s an imposing marble statue and I am a trembling, lost little girl, but he is beginning to thaw and I am finding my strength.
It’s only the start. We hardly know each other. But I know this is real, whatever it is.
And when Andrei starts to guide me backward through the crowd and into a sequestered chamber near the back of the club, I don’t resist. The sign on the door says VIP LOUNGE and when he opens the door, there’s no one inside. As though fate itself has aligned to let us in, alone together at last.
He sits down on a plush red sofa and pulls me down to sit sideways on his lap, his mouth still devouring mine needily. When his hands slide up my thighs, I inhale sharply, and fear begins to sneak its ugly tendrils back through my mind. Surely he isn’t going to touch me like he did before… not in a public place! This isn’t what I ever envisioned for my first time. I suddenly feel so exposed, so uncertain, my former oblivious fog clearing away.
When his fingers brush over my panties underneath my dress, I break away with a jolt.
Andrei looks at me, his features hard and cold yet again.
I start to open my mouth to say something, but I don’t know what to say. Suddenly, I am very afraid. I’ve rebelled. I’ve teased him. I made him want me so badly and now I’m pushing him away! To serve and please my husband is my primary purpose in life, and now I’m screwing it all up. I remember my mother warning me, ‘Do as your husband tells you, Cassandra. Even if you don’t want to, you must always obey him, or he will be angry with you. The only way to protect yourself, to be a godly woman, is to do as he says.’
My heart pounds in my chest, waiting for his reaction.
A flicker of darkness crosses his face and I prepare for my punishment.
Andrei
Each thump of her heart that I feel makes me want her more, and I sense her desire for me creeping out of the tight-knit cocoon she’s spent so long bound up in.
I’ve never desired her so strongly. As my hands venture dangerously up her thighs, pushing away all the expensive lace that makes her all the more rare and precious, I hear soft moans escape her lips. And they seem to beg me to press onward.
I will make her first time worth remembering.
I’m looming over her like a ravenous predator, and as my hands explore her body, Cassie seems to be readying herself to be devoured, urging me forward. With a low growl in my chest, I wrap my hands around her hips and move in to give her all that she could possibly want…
But she recoils.
The way she moves is unmistakable—I feel her limbs pull into her body, moving away from me instinctively, and as I freeze in place, still as a statue, I look into those large, shining eyes of hers and see the telltale glint of fear in their pupils. She fears me.
A true lamb cowering before a wolf.
“Cassie,” I say in a whisper, drawing back ever so slightly, “printsessa, what’s the matter? Do you not want this?”
Her voice cracks as she struggles for words tragically.
“I…” Before she can continue, her cheeks flush an even deeper red, and she turns her face away from me, shame mixing with her terror as she curls up tight into herself on the couch.
My heart sinks, and I realize that I’ve pushed her too far. Maybe this young woman truly isn’t ready for such an experience, not so soon after escaping the stiflingly repressive world she was reared in.
“Cassie, I know I may seem frightening to you still,” I say gently as her eyes flit back to me briefly, “but I only wish to bring you pleasure—and there’s so much of it just within reach. But I would never force you to do something you don’t fully desire.”
“No!” she gasps, looking suddenly panicked. “No no, I-I want this, I really do! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” she wrings her hands together. “I should never have said anything, I—I don’t mean to make you think I…” She bites her lip, stumbling over her words.
“I just don’t know if I’m ready,” she finally lets out.
“Cassie…” I say to her in a low tone, and she looks up at me fearfully. I meet her gaze, even and unreadable, and I let the moment linger between us for an instant before continuing.
“You will never have to do anything you don’t want to do. I didn’t buy you for you to be my slave. All you have to say is stop, and I will. Cassie, you are more than just an object to me. You’re a person, and you deserve to have a say in what happens in your life. I know you may have been taught only to obey, but from now on I want you to choose your own path. I will do everything in my power to make you happy, even if it means I never get to touch you again.”
There were tears in her eyes already, but they well up to the point of bursting in the moment that follows, and before I know it, she throws her arms around me, embracing me tightly, and I slowly return the gesture, pressing my cheek against the top of her head.
Then I feel a kiss at my neck.
Her face has moved up from my chest, and her soft lips are pressed into my exposed skin, and as she lingers there for some time, I feel her hands exploring my torso with more bravery than before.
I feel her heart on my chest again, thumping away, worked up into a storm as it tears itself apart between its repressed, chained-up desires and its need to free itself.
I move my face down to meet her, and with a newfound hunger I didn’t know her to possess, she reaches up and wraps her hands around my head, hoisting herself up into a kiss.
It’s deep and long, and she moves her lips against mine as though desiring so much more. I do not deny her. Sliding my hands around her waist, I let her meld into me, moving my tongue to her lips gently at first. As they part to let me in, I delve forward with abandon, and she meets me with just as much energy.
Now her gasps become desperate between kisses, and we become totally lost in one another as I feel her grasping at my clothes, climbing me needfully and hungrily.
“Andrei,” she whispers into my ear as she rests her chin on my shoulder, letting my hands grasp her ass. “All my life, I’ve never felt like I’ve had a real choice in things. Even if I wanted something, I felt like it was decided before I was ever involved. With you, though…”
She moves back just enough to look me in the eyes, and I look upon her radiant features and feel my heart begin to melt.
“...I feel like I can finally desire and choose with you, Andrei.”
“You deserve nothing but what you wish, printsessa,” I whisper back in a husky voice.
“I admit,” she says, “I’m...I’m still afraid, but I know for certain that I want this. I want this more than I’ve wanted anything in a long, long time.”
My gaze boring into her, I ask, “Do you want me?” I take her hands and draw them across my body, feeling my rock-h
ard muscles, swollen with blood flow that she stirred up in me. Slowly, I trace her hands down towards my thighs, getting dangerously close to the stiff shaft between them. “Do you want everything you feel, everything my body can give you? Do you want all of that to be inside you, taking every ounce of you?”
“Yes,” she breathes, “but I just don’t know how. I’ve never even seen…” her voice trails off as her eyes fall on the bulge of my cock, the hard outline desperate to escape my pants.
I move in and kiss her again, my tongue swirling through her mouth, dancing with hers as we revel in one another’s warmth.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her as we break. “I will teach you.”
There’s a long pause between us, and her eyelashes flutter after she steals another glance at my manhood.
“Will you show me tonight?”
Cassie
The ride home from Brighton Beach is a whirlwind. Even though the drive there seemed to last forever, the trip back seems to pass by in the blink of an eye. Perhaps this is partly due to the fact that Andrei doesn’t seem to pay any attention to traffic laws and speed limits on the way to the apartment building. The Corvette weaves nimbly in and out of traffic, down side streets and shortcuts, some probably at least borderline illegal, in order to get us home before our heads clear completely.
I wonder if Andrei feels the same way I do right now: all flaming nerves and skipping heart — but then I remember that he has probably done this before. It’s a rather strange thought, that my husband has most likely touched other women before me. He is older than me, older than any of the young men from the congregation or the homeschooling community I previously viewed as contenders for my hand. And although I have not asked him outright, all signs point to the fact that he is not of my faith. Living outside the church, it can only be assumed that he has not been saving himself for marriage as I have.
Sights on the SEAL: A Secret Baby Romance Page 24