I was spent. I felt I had run a fuck marathon. Finally, with my exhausted body sprawled out on my back, and my arms and legs relaxed against the bed. He pushed into me one last time with a quaking orgasm. We were both sweaty and spent and lay against the bed, catching our breaths. When my heart rate was finally normal, I rolled into the crook of his shoulder and nestled my head there. He kissed my forehead and said, “Ya lyublyu tebya, Lyubimaya.”
“What does that mean,” I said tracing the outline of a tattoo with my finger tip.
“It means, I love you, my Sweet Darling.”
“Oh Alexi, I love you too.” I climbed up to kiss his mouth. A tear welled in my eye. Why did my love feel like pain? It was all so overwhelming, so unreal, so unknowable. The tear fell on his cheek, and he wiped it away, looking into my eyes.
“Why do you weep, Lyubimaya? Aren’t you happy?”
“Yes, this has been probably the best day of my life. I just don’t know what to do with it, or where to put it in my head, or in my heart.”
“Don’t worry, my Darling. I will take care of everything, and you will know more than you have ever known, see more than you have ever seen. And I will show it to you."
Chapter Three
I ran up to the Neo-Gothic castle entrance and gasped like an exited child. It was magnificent and perched on the cliff face high over the sea. It looked like a fairy tale castle. The sea glistened below the color of the soft morning sky. A breeze kicked up white caps and ruffled the flags that topped the four conical spires. I turned to Alexi, my face wide with a beaming smile.
“But it can’t be that old,” I said, “It looks like it belongs in Disneyland.”
“Sparrow’s Nest was built in 1912,” he said flatly, “It is a tourist attraction. But I thought you would like it. It is quite a spectacle.”
I dug out my camera and began clicking away. It was so exciting. I couldn’t wait to paint it when I got back home— wherever that was going to be from now on. We walked down a stone path that led under the castled along the rock face. I was able to take pictures of the dramatic angle of the castle from down below. It seemed to thrust out over the cliff, as if it wanted to dive into the sea.
Yellow summer flowers smiled at me as I took pictures of everything I saw. I turned my camera on Alexi, studying his features with my camera. He was so handsome, I wanted to weep. There was something about the shape of his face, the way his goatee framed his full mouth, the way his hair fell to his shoulders, that made me want to serve him for the rest of my life, just so I could look upon his beauty. He smiled at me, his face in front of the Gothic castle. It was a dream. It had to be a dream. I stepped toward him and kissed his cheek and then nestled into his shoulder smelling his body. I never wanted to leave.
We walked back and went to lunch at an outdoor cafe. I watched the sea birds dance on the breeze. Alexi excused himself to make a phone call, and I sat under the patio umbrella feeling the joy of life’s pleasure seep through my skin. When he returned, a wicked smile curved on his lips. He took my hand and lead me back to the Range Rover.
“We will visit an ancient castle now, and then I will take you to meet one of my oldest friends. Does that sound good to you?”
“Yes. It sounds fantastic,” I said climbing into the passenger seat of the Range Rover.
We drove about two hours along the coast, listening to music from my iPod. I sang along and looked at the sea as it passed, dreaming that my life was always this easy and perfect. Alexi gripped the wheel and smiled at me when I looked at him.
When we arrived at the next castle, we parked and got out of the car. The sun was high in the sky and warm on my bare legs. I was wearing black short-shorts, and a screen printed tank top. Alexi moved along the path that led through the park. Beyond the entrance gate, spanned an ancient castle from the middle ages. It’s stone walls trust into the sky above the cliff face overlooking the sea. The ancient fortress walls of weather worn stone crumbled in places. I was awe struck by the seer presence of the fortress. It was the oldest structure I had ever seen. I was from Seattle. The oldest buildings in that part of the world were from the Gold Rush era.
“Oh my God,” I said trying to take it all in. I felt a little stupid. There were old buildings in Venice and Budapest, but nothing had impressed me as much as this fortress. Perhaps it was because those buildings had been retrofitted and restored so many times, they no longer seemed old. The fortress wasn’t a building that could be used for anything other than what it was, a defensive military structure from the middle ages. I slowly walked out into the interior courtyard and began to snap photographs. I caught Alexi with his hair blowing in the wind, in front of the back drop of the stone walls. He seemed to belong in this fortification, as if he was from another age, another lifetime.
There were cannons mounted along the walls and a small museum with artifacts from the Byzentine era in the 6th century. It was mostly earth colored clay pots and sword hilts. Alexi watched my childlike fascination with at the remnants of his ancient culture with an air of detachment. He seemed to enjoy my enjoyment at least. Looking at him standing there waiting for me, made me feel so… American. I sighed at myself. I couldn’t help it. I was American— a wild west, pioneer, capitalist, tourist. I couldn’t help it. That's who I was.
“We will have our supper at Victor’s house,” he said holding his arm out for me to take.
Chapter Four
We arrived at Victor’s house as twilight fell. We pulled up into the front drive of what had to be described as a Gothic castle. A full moon peeked out behind the many decorative finials. I suddenly felt entirely under dressed. I swallowed hard.
“Your friend lives here?”
“This is his summer home, yes.”
“Summer home?”
“Dear Julia, close your mouth.”
I sat back in my seat and waited for Alexi to park the car. I put on my best impression of cool that I possibly could. It might have helped if I had been a little drunk. When we parked, a butler came out and opened the car door for me. Ok… I stepped out of the car and saw that Alexi was directing them to bring in our bags. I didn’t know he had packed our things. As I looked up at the impressive monument, I was glad I had evening dresses.
A tall, slim man with high blond hair came bounding down the stairs in a tailored suit. As I saw him, my mind blanked and waved into darkness. He was beautiful. High cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, and a quick angular body. He and Alexi embraced and kissed cheeks. I stood there, trying to be cool. They spoke in Russian or Ukrainian and laughed.
“Victor, this is Julia Donovan. Julia, this is my old, dear friend Victor Doroschenko.”
Victor took my hand and kissed it, looking into my eyes. We walked up the front steps into an elaborate entrance hallway, and past a party of well-dressed people laughing in a drawing room. We were quickly escorted to our rooms to change.
My room had a window that overlooked the back gardens that I could see under the full moon light. The gardens extended to a long fountain that disappeared into the darkness. My room was decorated in 17th-century French style luxury, from the delicate white and gold side table to the gilded bed posts that reached to the ceiling.
I tried to remain relaxed as I changed. I guess I was expecting a upper-middle-class home and a man with an overweight wife and small children. I’d walked into an upscale dinner party with the glitterati of Crimea. I’d just spent the last week hauling my own water, and the weeks before counting my pennies to travel by train through Europe. I was just a college girl on her first foray out of my highly insular society. And I only spoke English— a fact that made most Europeans look down on you almost instantly.
I dressed in a capped-sleeved, black cocktail dress and red pumps. I put my hair up in a flouncy bun with ringlets hanging down my shoulders and back. I put on smokey eye-makeup and deep red lipstick. I couldn’t help that my heart was pounding. I put on some dangling gold earrings and a necklace of tiny pearls. Alexi met m
e at the door of my room, looking sleek his black shiny suit. He took my arm and led me downstairs to the drawing room where the party conversed over cocktails.
The drawing room continued the opulent 17th century style but with a black and red theme. It had a high coffered ceiling outlined in red. The walls were papered with filigree designs surrounding the puffy red velvet couches and round settees. Against the back wall was an elaborate mahogany bar where a server mixed drinks.
All together, the party consisted of thirteen people, including me and Alexi. There were six men and seven woman. Everyone was dressed in posh designer clothing. Alexi brought me the bar and spoke to the bartender in Russian. He handed me a fruity mixed drink and ushered me around the room. Victor came to us and began to introduce me to his guests in English. Most of the party guests were between their late twenties and early forties. I was definitely the youngest one there. One of the more mature looking women in a long scooped neck dress with an intricately beaded short-sleeve jacket, and sharp pageboy hair cut, walked over to me. She was introduced as Dina Pavlova.
“So you are America?” she asked in a thick accent.
“Yes, I’m on summer vacation before going back to graduate school next spring.”
“Ah, and what do you study, my Dear?”
“Business.”
“Julia studies business, but she is really a talented artist,” Alexi interjected.
“Really,” said Dina, “What kind of art do you make?”
“I paint watercolors. Landscapes mostly, and architecture. I’m also thinking of doing some nudes.”
Dina took my arm and led me to sit on a settee with her. I watched Alexi walk into a group of people speaking animatedly in Russian and laughing.
“I’d love to see your work,” Dina said touching my hand.
It felt good, but strange that this chic, older woman was interested in my work. No one like her had ever been interested in my artwork before. Most of the art people I knew back in Seattle where young hipsters or older hippies or my high school teachers. She leaned into me, and I could smell her Dior perfume.
“How did you meet Alexi?” she spoke low into my ear.
“On the beach, in Odessa.”
“It is amazing you hooked him. The girls have been trying to get a hold of him for years.” She made a short, low laugh, and tilted her head toward the other woman across the room. “It is even more amazing that he should bring you here, already.” I felt my mind wonder and go blank. When I regained full awareness, I saw a petite brunette woman brush Alexi’s hair away from his shoulder. My eyebrows narrowed as I saw her touch him. I wanted to stand up and push her away, but Dina continued talking.
“He really is quite a catch. There hasn’t been a koldun as powerful as he for decades besides maybe Victor.”
“What is a koldun?” I asked. She looked at me with a confused expression, and then stood to rejoin the rest of the group.
I ran my arm through Alexi’s and stood close to him, feeling comfort in his closeness. I looked at the petite woman, Anya, with devil eyes. She smirked at me and lit a cigarette. I felt like a barbarian standing next to the tiny, narrow woman. My body was all muscle and hour glass curves with broad shoulders. Her body was almost Asian in its litheness. I was distracted by my rival, and almost forget what Dina said about Alexi being a koldun. What did that mean? I meant to ask Alexi as soon as we had a private moment.
The dinner party moved into the dining room that was lit with crystal chandeliers over a long Louis XIV table and high-backed chairs. It was set with dinnerware with an intricate gold rimmed design. Cut, black orchids and white roses dripped from overflowing floral arrangements between the lit candles in gold candle holders. We were served exquisite food and drank a different vintage wine with each course. By the time desert was finished, my head swam from the noise of the room and the variety of wine and all the rich flavors of food.
Victor stood at the head of the table and tapped his crystal wineglass with the side of a silver tea spoon. The room quieted and all eyes fell on him. “Let us proceed to the night’s main event.” People gasped, and a woman laughed broadly. The party quickly stood of from their chairs. The room was awash with noise and commotion, and they suddenly disappeared through the doors.
“What’s going on?” I said to Alexi as he guided me out behind them.
“It is in honor of you, Dear Julia.”
“What?”
“Do you know the game, hide-and-seek?”
That caught me off guard. Why would a bunch of chic, rich adults want to play a children’s game?
“Yes, but…”
He cut me off, “You will be the seeker. Go to your room and when the bell tolls, you will come seek us. Do you understand?”
“I guess, but…”
“No questions. Now go.”
I did as he asked and went to my bedroom. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of running around in my new pumps and wondered if I should change. I found a flashlight sitting on my dressing table and picked it up. It wasn’t mine. Why was it here? Suddenly, all the lights in the house shut off, I heard a loud clang. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I guess that was what he meant by “when the bell tolls.” I wasn’t expecting all the lights to go out. What were these people up to? My heart raced, and I switched the flashlight on. I walked out into the darkened hallway. The only light was from the full moon beaming through the windows casting a pale blue hue over the antique furniture. I felt cold wash over my body as if something incredibly dangerous and strange was happening just beyond my perception.
“Hello?” I called. My voice carried through the silent halls and echoed back to me. I took a step forward and forced myself to continue moving. The last place I had seen anyone was downstairs in the dining room. The stairs creaked quietly under my feet as I stepped down. “Hello?” I called again, hoping someone would come save me from this terrible game. When I reached the dining room, I shined my flashlight across the now bare table. The servants must have been really on it to clear all that so fast.
Then I crossed the wide entrance hall to peer into the drawing room. There was nothing in there either. But I spied a crack in the wall that had not been there before. A faint light glowed around the outline of what looked like a door. I stepped forward, my heart pounding, and a trickle of sweat beaded down my arm. When I reached the door, it swung slowly open revealing an old staircase that spiraled down. Faint gold light glimmered from far below, and I followed it, hoping that they wouldn’t jump out and scare me half to death. The only sound was that of my heels clicking and the creak of the rough, wooden stairs below my weight.
When I reached the bottom of the staircase, all I saw was a lit candle. Beyond it was a dark tunnel that smelled damp and looked foreboding. I shined my flashlight down the tunnel. It had a curved stone ceiling, and I could hear the sound of water dripping in the distance. It looked ancient, older than the rest of the house even. I stepped into the stone tunnel, my heels clicking with each step. I was covered in darkness except the light from my flashlight and the fading light from the candle behind me. The tunnel curved and began to slope gently downward. I stepped forward, and my heel caught in a crevice, sending me down on my hands and knees.
“Fuck,” I whispered, as if I was a thief in the night.
I stood up and looked at my knees. One of them was scratched and trickled with blood as did my palms. I pressed my hands together and clenched my eyelids closed. My poor hands were already a mess from the hours of yard work I’d done all last week. Now they were badly scraped and bleeding. I pulled my shoe out of the stone and moved forward. It seemed logical to me that they were hiding down here— the open hidden door, the lit candle. But why? What was this game all about?
At the end of the tunnel was a closed metal door. It looked like a belonged to a fallout shelter or underground bunker. I gripped the handle and pulled it slowly open. Inside the room was dark and smelled of candle wax. I flashed my light across the wide expanse a
nd saw a painted black floor with a strange alter in the center. I didn’t feel alone.
“Hello?”
“You have found us Julia,” spoke Victor’s voice. Slowly, candles lit. They were held by people in long, red cloaks, their faces concealed in darkness.
“What is this? What's going on?” I felt my heart race. I was about to run when I felt a familiar hand grip my upper arm. That’s when I blacked out.
Chapter Five
Chanting voices cooed in the candle light. I blinked. Above me was a white pentagram painted into the black ceiling. Within the arms of the stars were strange symbols that looked like the ones on Alexi’s chest. My head was woozy. I tried to sit up, but found myself bound hand and foot to the alter by rigid, black leather strips to the four corners of the alter. I was naked.
“Alexi?” I said. My voice was soft when I meant it to be a scream.
“Lie quietly, Lyubimaya.”
“What’s happening?”
“We are making you perfect.” I heard the chanting voices rise in volume and speed. They spoke in Russian or some other language I did not understand. I pulled against the bounds but couldn’t move. Alexi was here. I would be OK.
I felt myself drifting. Memories of the last few days floated through my mind. I relaxed and smiled, thinking about my love for Alexi. My body felt supple and beautiful, even though I was tied down to an alter. Somehow the beauty of what was me, of my physical form, of my soul, seemed to be accentuating. I felt my breasts swell, and my pussy started to twitch.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Hands touched me. Rubbing my body. Dozens of hands caressed and fingered me. The chanting continued, and I wanted to roll over and let them touch all of me. I pulled against the bounds but couldn’t move. Warm, smooth liquid dripped down on my body. It smelled of spices and sex intermixing with the rich scent of burning frankincense and musk. The hands rubbed the warm oils into my skin, rubbing it over my erect nipples and inside my thighs.
Entranced: Spellbound (Book Three) Page 2