He leaned in and bit the side of her neck. She squealed, the pain shooting straight down to her pussy. When he kissed the small hurt, she let out a moan, feeling her insides turn to jelly.
“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, then backed away. Looking at her sternly, he said, “I have things to do tonight. You are not one of them. Quit tempting me!”
She bit her lip to hide a smile. It was fun to be a distraction. It meant she was wanted. Should she say sorry? She wasn’t and she’d been taught not to lie. After a giggle, she asked, “What do you have to do that’s so important?”
“First, book our vacation.”
Her gaze shot to his face. “Vacation?” She’d never been on one.
He smiled, seeming to enjoy her surprise. “Yes. I want to take you to my beach house in the Caribbean.”
“The beach?” she almost yelled. Was he joking? She could already feel the warmth on her face, sand between her toes. Well, how she imagined it would feel. “A real beach?”
He did something on his phone for a moment, then held it out to her. A picture of sand with clear blue water in front surrounded by palm trees took up the screen.
“We can go here?” She felt like popping out of her skin with excitement. It was gorgeous. Like a movie.
Laughing, he leaned in and kissed her. “How’s that for your spoiled rich boy?”
She liked that he’d called himself hers. At home, nothing had truly been hers. Not even a bedroom. But if she was his, that meant he was hers too, didn’t it? A warm glow started in her chest.
“It’s beautiful, Konstantin,” she answered, then kissed him back. “One question.”
“Yes?”
“Can we take a boat?”
Chapter Eight
Despite Varushka’s worries about traveling by air, the flight didn’t seem to scare her after takeoff. Everything had gone smoothly, and she’d seemed to have fun watching out the window while Konstantin amused himself, kissing her neck and whispering dirty things in her ear.
Considering the pleasant weather forecast, each of them only needed a small duffel bag of beach clothes and sandals. His vacation home stayed stocked with towels and toiletries even when he wasn’t there. Konstantin threw the bags in the backseat of a taxi that was waiting outside the airport terminal and the two of them slid into the remaining space beside them. Konstantin gave the driver directions, and for a few minutes he simply enjoyed watching Varushka stare excitedly out the window.
But he hadn’t brought her there for the sights.
Excitement and anticipation thrummed through him. They were far away from everyone they knew, and it gave them permission to be who they were for an extended period of time, instead of needing to wear their public faces for hours every day. The anonymity of bringing Varushka to Saint Thomas, where he’d taken care not to get to know anyone, opened up possibilities he’d never allowed himself to consider with her.
He reached past Varushka and unzipped the side pocket of his duffel bag, withdrawing the leather collar he’d stashed there. Watching her reaction, he let it dangle from his fingers. She licked her lips and nodded, her grin shaky.
“This is temporary. You’ve been asking what it’s like to be a slave. This week I’ll show you what it could be like with me, if you want to try it.”
She nodded eagerly, silly girl.
“If you like this experience, we can discuss making it more permanent.” He fastened the thing around her neck, where it laid cool against her warm skin. “You asked me before what I was into, Varushka,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ve shown you a little, but now I’ll show you more.”
Shyly, she touched the thing around her neck, her fingers following the smooth leather. It looked like a collar a man might put on a dog, too obvious to use in public, but for now it made a point.
“We’ll see what you think and go from there. You still have ‘rutabaga’ if something bothers you, but you’ll wear that until we leave. That and nothing else.”
Her arm snuck across her chest, covering her anticipated nakedness. “But only when we are at your house, right?”
Konstantin had a vision of parading her through the town square naked, on a leash. If he got her hot enough she might just agree to it, not that it was legal here or anywhere else that he was aware of. Keeping her naked on his property was a different story. There were no neighbors nearby, so he had her at his mercy for a week.
He chuckled and nodded, then toyed with the bare skin of her knee, trying to make her wonder if he’d do something sexy and vile to her in the back of the cab.
When they pulled up in front of the house, Varushka leaned over his lap to press her face against the window, giving him a generous flash of bare thigh.
“It’s so beautiful!” she breathed. “Your house in America is very fancy and modern, but this one looks—warm and lazy. More like a house and less like a place where you work.” She sat quickly back on her seat when his hand grazed the back of her thigh under her skirt. The way she averted her gaze and blushed pushed him one step further into Dom space.
He flipped through his wallet and handed the taxi driver a stack of bills, then urged Varushka out so he could grab their bags.
When they got to the door he punched in the entry code, then led her inside. She looked around, admiring the pretty foyer.
“The banister . . . someone carved this? Look at the mermaids!” She ran her fingers over the wood. “And the little tiles on the floor make a picture!” She tiptoed off of the mosaic to get a better look at the swirling tentacle pattern in the entryway.
Konstantin shut the door behind them, then turned to watch her. The girl was like a naive and helpless fawn who’d stumbled into a wolf’s path. She gazed around, so soft and sweet that Konstantin was almost drooling. There were so many things he hadn’t done to her yet—so many things she didn’t even know people did, let alone that he wanted to do them to her.
There was a moment when all of his monstrous thoughts came to the fore—all of the dark fantasies he never admitted to other people begged for his consideration. His sadism ran deep, as well as his need to dominate a woman completely. It had been over a year since he’d really mastered a woman, and longer since he’d administered a serious beating. He’d been holding back with Varushka, not wanting to scare her, knowing he needed to ease her into things, but the most sinister parts of him paced in the cage he’d made, eager to be released. Opening the cage door a crack would mean having to shove it closed again before too much of his evil got out. She might be ready to see a little, but no woman could take it all. No woman should have to.
Dropping the innocuous mask he often wore around the girl, he let a hint of his depraved thoughts show in his expression.
Varushka read the difference in him immediately. She froze in place, apprehension showing in the tension of her every muscle. They stared at each other across the short expanse of the foyer, like predator and prey. Both knew how the game would end even though the fawn seemed to hope her stillness would render her invisible. Stalling, he struggled to shove the worst of his evil back in its cage. He folded his arms and leaned a shoulder against the door.
“Strip. Now.”
She blinked at him, shocked. He set his jaw in the line which signaled that a spanking was imminent.
Trembling, she unbuttoned her dress and let it fall to the floor.
Amused irritation flashed through him. “I thought I told you not to wear panties,” he growled.
Maybe she’d thought she would be able to sneak to the bathroom and remove them before he found out.
“I couldn’t do it, Sir. Traveling bare like that was too vulgar.” She blushed prettily. God, she made him crazy. “But I did wear the smallest ones.”
“Pull down the front of them and let me see you.” He let his gaze grow as hard as his cock.
Mouth quivering, she obeyed. He held his breath as she pulled down the scrap of pink fabric to expose the small tuft of red hair and the hint of her sex mostly hi
dden between her legs. His pulse thundered in his ears.
Maybe she wasn’t confident and full of sex appeal like some women he could have had, but he’d never wanted a woman more in his life. Not putting her to her hands and knees on the stairs and shoving his iron-hard dick into her sweet little body was taking a herculean effort.
Too shy to look at him, she stood, eyes downcast, shivering despite the warmth of the house.
“There’s a big wet spot in your panties, naughty girl. What has you all hot and bothered?” He stood there and looked her over, pretending he was content to look all day and not touch.
She moaned with embarrassment and shifted, but from the smell of her, being ordered to expose herself to him was doing exactly what he would have hoped. The only problem was he was making it worse for himself too.
“It’s not my fault, Sir. You were being very mean to me on the plane.” The quaver in her voice was almost enough to break his control. There were O-rings and sturdy furniture all over the damn house, and the fact that he was going to use as much of it and of her as she could handle over the next few days was making him crazy and impatient.
He moved closer and rested his palm on her belly as though he was going to slide his fingers down and check her wetness for himself. She waited for it, panting, and when it didn’t happen, she whined.
“You love it when I’m mean to you.” He made his voice low and menacing, and her belly twitched under his hand.
“Oh god. Yes, Sir.”
His response was half groan, half chuckle.
“Let go of your panties.”
She did as he asked and they snapped back into place. Then his hand did sneak downward, but instead of easing her, he bunched the fabric of her panties into a narrow strip and pulled until it insinuated itself between her pussy lips. He tugged gently upward until the wet fabric nestled against her clit. When he let go they stayed mostly in place. She gasped and wriggled in place, trying to dislodge them.
“Kneel.”
She knelt quickly and gave a low moan. “Sir, my panties . . . It hurts.”
“How much?”
“Almost enough.” She sobbed a laugh.
“Fine. But if you take them off, you need to make yourself come for me.”
She shook her head, apparently not that desperate.
“You wouldn’t have that problem if you’d obeyed me, would you, bad girl?”
“No, Sir.”
“Crawl.” He grabbed a handful of her red hair and brought her into the living room, then the kitchen, letting her kneel in each place to look around for a moment. “While you are in this house, you will be naked. You will kneel on the floor when I’m in the room and you won’t use the furniture without permission. If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you sleep in my bed—otherwise you’ll sleep on the floor at the foot of it.”
She frowned in confusion. “Are the rules because you’re mad at me?”
He smiled slowly. “No, Varushka. The rules are because I like them.”
To his surprise, she nodded obediently.
“When you kneel, you spread your legs and show me what’s mine.” He nudged her knees apart with the toe of his shoe, and she rocked her hips against the pressure from her panties. He placed her hands palms up on her thighs. “Like this. Stay.”
He grabbed their bags and went up to the bedroom, then changed into board shorts. Peeling his T-shirt off felt good, but his dick still ached.
Back in the living room, Varushka was kneeling where he’d put her, gazing out the window at the beach.
“Are you ready for a swim?” He urged her up, then carefully pulled her panties down her thighs, glorying in the beautiful scent of her frustration.
The poor girl didn’t answer, so he sat on the sofa and pulled her into his lap. When he kissed her she moaned, and he rearranged her until she straddled him. Shamelessly, she ground her pussy against his shorts-covered erection. The feeling of her damp softness pressed against the thin fabric of his bathing suit made him thrust against her. He fantasized about yanking down his shorts and burying himself inside her. In irritation, he swatted her ass, but she only moaned and kissed him harder. She was gasping and about to come when he urged her up.
“Noooo. Please, Sir. I need an orgasm.”
“You don’t need an orgasm, you want an orgasm. There’s a difference, spoiled girl.”
If she came, he’d come, and there was no way he was getting off in his shorts. He hadn’t had such an intense and frustrating dry-hump session since fucking high school. Those days had seemed like they were long over, but apparently months of frustration were in his future.
She sobbed quietly, but no tears came. Briefly he considered throwing her on the coffee table and getting her off with his mouth, but even that might set him off. His balls ached. Why on earth was he doing this to himself?
“I don’t want to go for a swim,” she complained, then balked and backpedaled when she realized he was taking her outside naked. “No! Someone will see!”
“No one will see. There’s no one around,” he reassured her. She hid behind him then peeked around his shoulder to survey the beach. It was empty except for a few gulls and several judgemental-looking shells.
“So when we’re here, I just swim naked?”
“Yes, unless you can’t handle it when Banner and Ambrose are here with their women. They’ll play in front of us though. You’ll just have to get used to it.”
“You’d keep me naked, even in front of them?”
“Yes, if you agree to it. They’ll look at your pretty body, but they won’t touch you.” Well, Ambrose might have if he had permission, back in the day, but since he’d been with Everly he’d been a one-woman man, not that he’d ever been a cheat. It was a good thing, because punching out one of his two best friends might put a damper on their friendship. And that was if Everly didn’t get to him first.
He brought her under the shelter of the pagoda, then went back in to get the sunscreen. Varushka got braver and ventured to the water’s edge. The water lapped her toes, and she grinned like a happy child. Her hair shone like fire in the light of the sun, now only a few hands above the horizon. The curve of her small breasts and narrow hips drew his eye, and he would have to have been dead not to check out her sexy little ass. It was her face, though, and her expression of wonder as she watched the waves that moved him.
“It feels like we found the end of the world. Look! It’s like there’s nothing left in that direction but the sea.” Varushka crouched down and picked up a handful of sand, then let it trickle through her fingers. She found a small white shell and rinsed it in the water, then slipped it apologetically into his pocket.
“Can you hold this for me? I have nowhere to put it.” Her wry smile forced him to kiss her—a warm, affectionate kiss that made him feel lighter.
He opened the bottle of sunscreen and warmed some between his hands. “I’m going to put some of this on you so you don’t fry like a piece of bacon out here.” She nodded, and he smoothed lotion over her fair skin, enjoying the feel of her under his hands.
“Where are the sharks? How far can I go without getting eaten?” she asked, standing on her toes to see farther into the water, and shading her eyes with her hand.
He snorted. He’d eat her in the pagoda if she wasn’t careful.
“Sharks don’t usually come in this close. It’s safe to swim here.”
“Really? I thought they would be right there where I could see their fins, like in the movies.” She pointed to a spot about five feet away.
“Nope. Every year more people get killed by vending machines falling on them than by shark attacks.”
She laughed. “It’s good I don’t like soda much, then.”
He greased her legs, then her ass, going far enough into the cleft to graze a finger over her asshole.
“Hey!” She grimaced comically.
“You wouldn’t want to get a sunburn there,” he said sagely.
“Rude.”
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“You have no idea how many rude things I plan to do to your ass.”
Her mouth dropped open and she looked around like there could be invisible listeners lurking nearby.
“And your mouth. You might want to close it before you give me ideas.”
Her mouth snapped shut and she glared at him adorably. He lotioned the front of her, too, making sure to get her breasts and nipples so thoroughly she was panting when he was done. He threw the lotion bottle on the table in the pagoda and waded into the water, then dove in, letting the cool water close over him and soothe his blue balls.
When his head broke above water, Varushka was knee deep, looking worried.
“You shouldn’t go Underwater like that.”
Her expression clued him in. “Can you swim, little bird?”
“No. Where would I have learned to do that?”
“Come here.”
She obeyed, but stopped when she got waist deep. “Can this be far enough?”
Konstantin moved closer, took her in his arms and brought her out to where the water met his waist. He urged her onto her back, and floated her there, holding her from underneath.
“Don’t let me go!” She clung to his forearms, her nails digging into his skin.
“I won’t. Not until you’re ready.”
She folded in half and would have sank if he hadn’t held her up.
“Come on, try again.”
Although she did it, she stared up at him, looking worried the whole time.
“Take a deep breath.”
She did, and he could feel her body become more buoyant.
“I’m still holding you. Can you feel yourself floating a bit?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, sounding amazed. “The sky is so blue here.” She bobbed upright and stood, pointing at the horizon. “It’s hard to say where the sky ends and the ocean begins.” A second later she shrieked and climbed up into his arms.
“What?”
“A jellyfish just tried to eat my toe!”
“Jellyfish don’t bite!” he said, carrying her toward shore. “Did something sting you?”
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