To Have and to Master

by Sparrow Beckett

  “What are you doing?” she asked in disgust.

  “Kissing you. Using your tongue is normal if you’re kissing someone you’re planning to marry.”

  She grimaced. “Ick. Maybe it’s normal in America, but people in Russia don’t kiss like that.”

  “People kiss like this in high school, Varushka. It’s not gross or weird. And yes, people in Russia do kiss like this.”

  “Fine. Do it.” Varushka leaned toward him again and opened her mouth.

  Gentle fingers came to her chin, and he pushed her mouth closed. “Your mouth will open when it’s the right time. You don’t have to let it . . . hang open like that.”

  Antonia had never told her this kissing business was so complicated.

  He kissed her again. The hand in her hair controlled her movements, and although she was pretty sure that wasn’t normal, the feeling of being trapped and at his mercy made the spot between her legs tingle. He deepened the kiss, and his tongue insinuated its way into her mouth, coaxing her to reciprocate. She did, but he stopped and pulled back too soon for her liking.

  “Why did you stop?” Her heart was racing. She squirmed in place, frustrated that he’d backed off, and feeling like she wanted something she hadn’t gotten yet.

  A noise like a growl came from deep in his chest. “Do you always squirm and moan when someone kisses you?”

  “Was I doing that? I’ve never kissed anyone else, so I wouldn’t know if I always do it.” She tried to look sorry, but she just wanted him to shut up and kiss her again. “I’ll try not to. Did I hurt you?”

  “‘Hurt’ isn’t the word I’d use,” he said through gritted teeth. He looked as desperate as she felt. “You’re a very . . . enthusiastic kisser.”

  “It makes me feel like I need something, but in a good way.” She was starting to get the impression that when Antonia had told her that women lay with men to please them, that she had only half the story right.

  He kissed her again, and this time the fingers of his free hand drew little shivery lines above the waistband of her leggings. When she squirmed and giggled, he laughed, too, but it was huskier than before and made her wonder what terrible, wonderful things he could show her.

  His hand moved higher into her tunic top. More of his gentle touches followed the edge of the barrier of her bra. By the time he slid the straps down her arms and freed her breasts she was desperate for it. Feathery strokes explored her sensitive skin, and she startled and gasped when his thumb grazed her already-hardened nipple. Something hard and uncomfortable was wedged against the back of her thigh and she wondered what he had in his pocket. She squirmed around, trying to get comfortable, but he tugged harder at her nipples, making her feel needy and out of control.

  The pressure between her legs built, and she realized she was making throaty begging noises at him, but she couldn’t stop. He squeezed one of her nipples too hard, and she squealed as the pain shot a strange pleasure between her legs. Sweat broke on her skin.

  “Please, Sir.”

  “Please, what, little bird?” His dark and sinful eyes were half-lidded.

  “I don’t know,” she whined desperately.

  “This?” He pressed a hand between her thighs, rubbing where it ached.

  She tried to tell him yes, but all that came out was a moan. His mouth fastened roughly over hers, and she cried out into it, his hand making the pressure in her lower belly build until she thought she would go mad. She grabbed his shoulders and clung to him, her fingers digging into muscle.

  The need crested, more devastating than she could have imagined, then released, sending currents of pleasure from his clever fingers all through her body. She struggled, confused by her reaction. He held her in place, making her feel everything he gave her.

  “Shh,” he murmured. “You’re okay, sweetness. Do you have another one for me?”

  His words and stubborn hand brought her to the brink again. She shuddered, gasping and squealing as he gave her body a second release. When she was done, he mercifully stopped. A third one of those might have destroyed her.

  With her face pressed to his chest, she inhaled the manly scent of him, hoping the tears that were soaking through his T-shirt didn’t bother him. He held her that way for a while, wiping her tears away with his hand. When she was calmer, he lifted her and carried her into his bedroom.

  He laid her on the bed, then stretched out beside her. The way their bodies pressed together and the protective arm he had draped over her midsection made her sigh with contentment.

  “Are you okay?”

  A more ridiculous question had never been asked. “Yes, Sir.”

  “From your reaction, I’m guessing that was your first orgasm?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Sir. I liked it very much.”

  He brushed some hair back from her eyes. “Most people do.”

  The thing in his pocket was still jabbing into her. “What’s this thing you keep sticking me with?” She grabbed at it, and he hissed.

  “That’s my cock. You squirmed all over it, and it wants inside you. But we’re not going to do that today.”

  His cock? Knowing she’d made him hard was a rush. She was disappointed he didn’t want to keep exploring.

  It was true what Mama had told her when she was younger. Fooling around with a man was a bad idea, because it made you want more, and the next thing you knew you were pregnant. At the time she’d thought Mama was being ridiculous, but now she understood the temptation.

  “You don’t look happy about that.” Everything about him was so sexy and suggestive, she didn’t know how he expected her to be the voice of reason.

  She shook her head. “My body wants more,” she admitted, “but I don’t think we’re ready for babies yet.”

  Konstantin drew a finger down the line of her nose, and it felt almost as intimate as when he’d touched her privates. When was the last time someone had touched her face?

  “Don’t worry. When we do have sex we’ll use protection. No babies until we want babies. If we want babies.”

  “So we can do things without having to worry about that?” She remembered being told contraception was wrong, but it was better than getting pregnant out of wedlock, wasn’t it?

  “Yes, I’ll take care of that.” His hand had slipped up into her top again and was lying on her belly. Even though it wasn’t doing anything, it made her feel warm and jumpy.

  Curious, she grabbed his cock through his jeans again, loving the way it made him groan and push against her hand.

  “What do you want from me, woman?”

  The way he said “woman” made her bite her lip, and she rubbed against him. “I want more.”

  “More? If you like sex as much as I do, we’re never going to get anything else done.”

  “You just told me you’re not having sex with me today, so I guess we’ll have to wait to find out.” She sighed dramatically, then giggled at his frustrated expression.

  “Are you looking for trouble?” he asked warningly.

  He could have taken advantage of her, but hadn’t. She wasn’t afraid of him anymore, just feeling needy again. She shrugged. “If I was looking for trouble, apparently I wouldn’t know where to find it.”

  Chapter Four

  It would have taken very little effort to turn her over his knee, pull down her leggings and panties, then spank her sassy ass.

  His fucking dick was going to explode.

  An hour ago he hadn’t known whether she’d ever be ready for sex. Now, after playing with her for a while, there was no question in his mind, other than when and how often he could take her, and how kinky she’d end up being.

  Obviously, Varushka was looking for trouble and every dominant urge he had was screaming at him to take her in hand. If he let her run wild now, her behavior would be that much more difficult to fix later.

  Whoa. Down, boy.

  She’d never had sex and seemed to be completely baffled by orgasms—how on earth was he supposed to disc
uss kink, consent, and safewords with the poor sheltered girl?

  “Do you want me to spank you, Varushka?”

  Her face turned pink, but her lips parted and she wriggled under his arm. “Noooo.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She paused, looking like she wanted to say yes but was too nervous.

  Jeez. It was like being in high school again—feeling a girl up and teasing her about barely kinky things he wanted to do to her. Considering what his adult life had been like up until now, it had never occurred to him that he could get this turned on by vanilla things.

  “If you’re not sure, maybe you should stop sassing me.” They had a brief stare down and he was surprised she was able to defy him. So much for her deep submissive instincts. He had no doubt he could get her to submit, but it seemed there might be a bit of a bratty streak in there too.

  When she dropped her gaze, she scrunched her nose.

  “No spanking today,” he decided. The girl had the gall to look disappointed. “Tonight we’re going to go somewhere so you can see what interests me sexually. It’s a club. We’ll go and watch for a while, and you can meet my friends. No pressure.”

  “Will they like me?”

  “What’s not to like?” He kissed her forehead and she melted into him. She was so sweet and genuine compared to the girls he used to date. Anna and Sindee had been fun, but it had been like dating dolls sometimes. They’d never really had a conversation that implied they needed anything from him other than his cock, and they’d all been emotionally unavailable to one another. That had been what he’d wanted at the time, but it wasn’t what he wanted in a wife.

  Whether or not he’d marry Varushka remained to be seen, but her eagerness and artlessness were both things that appealed to him.

  “I’m excited to go out.” She smiled broadly. “It’s a club? Like where people dance on TV? I don’t really know how to dance like that. Some girls went to clubs when I was away at school, but I never did.”

  “It’s a club but most people don’t go for the dancing.” He paused. Bringing her tonight was probably rushing her, but the sooner he got her used to the idea, the sooner he’d know if this relationship would be worth pursuing. For both of them.

  He also didn’t want to take her virginity unless he was relatively sure he’d marry her. She seemed like a natural submissive, but he didn’t want to wait years to see if they were truly compatible. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them—especially if she saw things tonight and wasn’t into any of them.

  “There are going to be people there doing things you probably won’t understand. You just have to keep in mind they all want to be there, and they’re all getting what they want or need out of what’s going on. Remember I was teasing you about spanking? It’s that sort of thing. The people being played with, or spanked, or hit, like it or are willing to accept it to please their partner. If they want it to stop they have a word they use that everyone agrees means their partner has to stop, called a safeword.”

  Varushka’s eyes were round. “So it’s a room full of women getting spankings and yelling stop?”

  He managed not to laugh, but the visual her words had given him was funny. Like a spanking factory.

  “Most of them wouldn’t use their safeword for a regular spanking.” Would she safeword the first time he spanked her, or would she submit to him? “A lot of the time safewords are different words than no or stop, because sometimes the people being punished want to be able to yell no and stop and have their partner not listen to them. Instead, their safeword might be rutabaga or carousel—something they wouldn’t normally say during something like that. And it’s not always girls being spanked. Sometimes it’s men.”

  “So if I let you spank me, then you’d want me to spank you?”

  At first he thought she was bratting, then he realized she was just confused.

  “In some relationships it works that way, but with me it never will. It would always be you getting spanked. Or . . . whatever.” It probably wasn’t the best time to start listing all the depraved things he had in mind.

  “If it hurt too much and I asked you to stop—or to rutabaga—would you be mad at me?”

  He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “No, little bird. I’d be happy you told me the truth.”

  “Okay. Then that’s my word. If you do something I don’t like, I’ll say rutabaga if I want you to stop.” Her smile was innocently seductive.

  He sighed, trying to bolster his self-control. Just because she had a safeword didn’t mean he should rush her.

  * * *

  Varushka insisted he show her what other girls wore to The Catacombs. After the first few clothing websites he showed her, she threw up her hands in dismay.

  “I have nothing like this!” The girl ran out of the room and he followed her to her bedroom. Frantically, she went through her closet, pulling out anything black and throwing it onto her pretty eyelet bedspread. “These things cover too much of my body. If I go in clothes like this, everyone will stare at me and think I don’t know what’s appropriate.” She slumped onto her bed and sorted glumly through her options.

  “I didn’t think you’d like to wear something that showed a lot of your body.” He should have thought of buying things she could wear to The Catacombs, but at the time she’d seemed too easily shocked. Apparently jumping to the conclusion that she’d rather be covered up than fit in was wrong. Between this and making out with her earlier, it was clear she was more ballsy than he’d thought.

  Her mouth turned down at the corners. “I know. I don’t have a pretty body like the girls you showed me.”

  “You do have a pretty body, Varushka. If you want clothes like that, I’ll take you shopping now.”

  She stood watching him, nibbling the end of her thumb.

  “What?”

  “You buy me too much.” She shook her head, as though she was determined to make the best of things. “These are good. I’ll think of something.” She lifted one black dress and studied it. “Maybe I can hem it shorter.”

  He left her with her thoughts, but dialed Everly from the hallway. An hour later Everly and Kate were on his doorstep with shopping bags full of possibilities.

  They evicted him from Varushka’s room, and in no time a lot of talking and giggling came from behind the closed door. It sounded like a stereotypical preteen slumber party. He was pacing the floor like a disapproving father by the time Ambrose and Banner arrived after work.

  “Are you going to be okay, buddy?” Banner asked, urging him out of the hall and into the living room. “If you stand around outside the door while a woman gets ready, it takes longer.”

  Ambrose nodded sagely. “And it takes even longer than that if you take the locks off all the doors, because then you’ll be tempted to muss her up again.”

  He couldn’t even joke around with them. Taking her to The Catacombs was probably a bad idea. She was young and impressionable, and didn’t have enough life experience to know what vanilla things she was into, let alone go to a kink club.

  “Nothing like throwing her in the deep end to see if she can swim.” Ambrose sprawled on one of the couches.

  Banner, always more dignified than their other friend, took the one by the window, probably trying to avoid the wrestling matches that often broke out when they were together.

  “If they dress her in black leather or other fetish stuff she’s going to look silly,” Kon said. “You remember how young she looked in her picture? She looks younger in person.” He ran his hand through his unruly hair and it caught at his fingers as though it wanted to keep them. “And if they dress her in a schoolgirl uniform or something, no one is ever going to believe she’s legal. And we might have to keep you blindfolded all night, Ambrose.”

  “That’s hot.” Ambrose winked.

  “Shut up. And don’t think I’ll be sharing her with you, you fucking pervert, because it’s not going to happen.”

  Ambrose’s laugh boomed through the
cavernous space. “Not so happy now that the shoe’s on the other foot, are you? Remember when you used to tease me about sharing Everly?”

  Konstantin frowned at his friend. “Varushka is different. You can’t even joke about things like that. She’s an innocent girl.” Desperation started to rise. He shouldn’t have fooled around with her. He was corrupting the poor thing.

  At one point he’d thought he could see whether one of his grandmother’s favorites would suit him as a wife, but by the time he was done figuring things out, he would have irrevocably meddled with her. The effects could last indefinitely.

  If he marked her permanently that way—if he exposed her to too much—would she ever be able to go back to her old life and find a decent husband?

  He heard the women coming down the hall, and he turned to face them. His good intentions abandoned him when she walked into the room.

  They’d dressed her in a dark red PVC babydoll dress with a top that resembled a ballet leotard and a full skirt that reached her knee. The scoop neck was low, and it was obviously fet wear, but it covered enough of her to satisfy him. She looked young, but not so young that he could hear sirens when he looked at her. He’d almost convinced himself to send her back to her family on the next plane, before he did her any more damage. Now he wanted to tie her to his bed and lick her in places that would shock her.

  She twirled shyly, her eyes only for him, then ducked her face against his chest when she realized there were other men in the room.

  “You look lovely, Varushka.” He wrapped his arms around her and smiled at Kate and Everly over her head.

  “Did you see my sandals? I love them!” she whispered, as though it was too private a thing for his friends to overhear.

  He made introductions, and she unburied her face long enough to be polite. The makeup they’d put on her was subtle, and suited her, and he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to insist she change or wash her face and chance hurting her feelings. Everly and Kate seemed to understand what she needed and what he wanted perfectly.

  It was eleven o’clock, and although things at The Catacombs would just be getting started, he wondered how soon Varushka would start nodding off. She was used to going to bed early and getting up early, and she still hadn’t completely adjusted to the time change.