To Have and to Master

by Sparrow Beckett

  He set to work spanking her. Hard and fast, he didn’t waste time with a warm-up. And with her bottom still sore from the earlier spanking, she was wriggling and yelping in no time.

  “Stay still,” he ordered, throwing a leg over her kicking ones.

  “I can’t help it!” she cried. “It hurts.”

  “That’s the point.” He started again, this time targeting the backs of her legs.

  She sobbed apologies but he kept going. The pain was immense—worse than any spanking he’d given her so far. Through the pain, however, there was a sense of satisfaction. She deserved this. When he was done, he’d forgive her.

  It took her a moment to realize he’d stopped. That was it? She was limp and crying but she acknowledged it could have been worse. Then she watched from the corner of her eye as he picked up the stick.

  “No!” She fought to get away but he held her firm.

  “Shh,” he soothed. “Just five. You can take them.”

  With a whimper, she gave in, hanging limp across his legs. Could she take five? Surely, from this angle they wouldn’t be too hard. Five wasn’t a lot. And he wanted her submission—he wanted her to do it for him.

  “You can take five for me, can’t you, Varushka?”

  His voice was smooth and calming—as if he were trying to relax her. It may have been more effective if it hadn’t sounded so sexy.

  “Yes, Master,” she answered, then sniffled.

  “That’s my good girl.” He slid his hand over her ass, soothing the pain there. He stroked up her back and down her legs, until her breathing slowed and she started to calm.

  “I’m going to do them fast. I won’t make you count. This is an introduction to the cane. Next time I won’t be so easy on you.”

  She gulped. There’d be no next time as far as she was concerned. She’d behave from now on.

  The blows landed fast and hard. She screamed but didn’t have time to try to get away. It was over in an instant then she exhaled a loud sob.

  Konstantin lifted her up, then sat her on his lap. Her bottom ached where it touched his legs, but he cocooned her in his arms and made soothing sounds as she cried on his shoulder.

  “You did very well,” he told her in Russian. “I’m proud of you.”

  Proud? She’d pleased him that much? A warm glow in her chest that spread throughout her body. A strange, buoyant feeling took over, like the aftermath of an orgasm but more . . . spiritual in a way. Despite her stinging backside, she’d never felt so loved. Tears pricked her eyes again, but this time it felt different. Not tears of guilt or regret, or even pain. These were tears of joy. Deep down inside, a little voice was whispering something she’d never felt for anyone before—not like this. She loved him. It made her want to do something wild like knock him over with kisses. She settled for grinning instead.

  Konstantin shifted underneath her, then pushed away a few inches. “Come on, malish. Let’s get to bed.”

  “Bed?” Her heart sunk. “But . . . we’re not going to . . .”

  He tsked. “No, Varushka. Naughty girls don’t get rewarded.”

  She frowned. The spanking was too intense to turn her on but she’d hoped it would made him want to have sex. With the whisper in her soul and the conviction she wouldn’t go to Hell for it, she was ready to make love to him.

  Even so, she obediently settled under the covers with him by her side. There’d be no sneaking down the hall to her own room tonight. She listened to his breathing slow, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in his arms and knowing she’d sleep like that all night—naked, with their bodies touching at every point. Exhausted, her body relaxed and her eyes drifted shut. Just before she nodded off, she said, “Master?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I was serious, you know,” she whispered. “I am ready to have sex.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, malish. Go to sleep.”

  Feeling like she was under some hypnotic spell, the world faded and she slept, sounder than she had in weeks.

  A rhythmic clicking woke her. She rolled over and felt the spot next to her was empty. Her eyes peeked open. A glow came from the desk across the room. It took her a full ten seconds to realize it was the computer screen, and the dark silhouette in front of it, Konstantin, twirling a pencil in his fingers with breathtaking fluidity.

  “How are you doing that? Is it a trick pencil?”

  “No. Just a regular one. It’s a little harder to do with a knife, but not much.” He winked, then chuckled at her skeptical expression.

  “A knife?” She smirked. “Were you an assassin before you became a businessman?”

  He arched a brow. “Not quite.”

  “What are you doing on your computer?” she asked.

  “Answering a few emails.”

  “In the middle of the night?” Did the man ever rest?

  “It’s not the middle of the night at home.” He smiled warmly. “Am I keeping you awake?”

  She huddled further under the covers, remembering what had woken her before the clicks. “No. I just had a bad dream.” She’d been sucked under the ocean current, screaming to Konstantin for help. He’d been holding out a hand but she couldn’t reach it.

  Varushka shuddered. She could almost feel her lungs sucking in seawater and the chill of being submerged.

  Konstantin shut his laptop, then walked to the bed.

  “I’m okay,” she told him, feeling bad she interrupted his work. “You can—”

  “Shh.” He climbed into the bed. “Come here, my sweet girl.”

  The bed dipped under his weight and she rolled into his arms. He kissed her hair several times and held her close. It was so tender and sweet that tears threatened to spill again.

  She looked up at him. “Are you still mad at me?”

  “Mad?” He frowned down at her. “I was never mad.”

  “You were when I disobeyed you.”

  “No.” His arms tightened around her and she fought to breathe. “I was disappointed. Not angry. I would never discipline you while I was angry.” When he released her, she sagged against him. “But it’s over now. You took your punishment well.”

  His approval was starting to mean everything to her. That glowing feeling—in her chest, in her heart—left sparks shooting all over her body.

  “Master?” Although she’d meant to say “Sir,” the word “Master” had slipped out again. The former conveyed respect, but it didn’t seem to fit their relationship as well as the latter did. She bit her lip, unsure how to ask for what she wanted, afraid of rejection, afraid to be humiliated.

  “Yes?”

  “Um.” God this was hard. “Will you . . . make love to me now?”

  His brows rose but he smiled. “Why are you in such a hurry, little bird? I don’t want to be something you regret.”

  “I’m not in a hurry. It’s just . . .” How did she explain it? The overwhelming desire to have him inside her, be unified, be fully joined and connected? “I . . . want to show you how I feel about you.”

  He went silent. All she could hear was the gentle waves of the ocean outside and his heartbeat under her ear. Had he read between the lines? Did he understand how she felt?

  “You can show me in other ways,” he finally said.

  She shrugged a shoulder. “I suppose.”

  A moment later, he said, “Or you could tell me.”

  Tell him? A lump lodged in her throat. She tried to swallow but it was hard to even breathe. Maybe if she blurted it out, it wouldn’t seem so stupid. Or maybe he’d say it back.

  “Well,” she started, steeling her courage. “I think I love you.”

  Silence again. Would he reject her? Would he laugh? Tears threatened to betray her when she was trying to be strong.

  “You think you do?” he finally said.

  “I’ve never been in love,” her voice broke, “so I can only guess this is how it feels.” Did he love her too? Had it been too soon to say so? “Do you . . .” It was too hard to say the words
—she couldn’t even force them out. She inhaled a shaky breath and wished she could disappear into the mattress.

  “Yes, Varushka.” He squeezed her. “I love you.”

  Her heart felt like it might burst. He loved her? Although her first instinct was not to believe him, she had to admit Konstantin always treated her like she was important. His actions, and the way he looked at her, all pointed to his words being true. When they’d first met, she’d wondered if things between them would work. She’d never guessed these deep feelings of affection would happen so fast. When he peered down at her with his dark eyes, full of wicked things, it made her all shivery inside. His eyes were dangerous but his smiles were all warm and his hands tender and sweet. Well, most of the time. When they weren’t, she liked that too.

  He provided for her, protected her, listened to her, and now he loved her. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

  She looked up at him. “So can we? I’m really ready.”

  After a long sigh, he asked, “Are you sure it’s what you want? And you don’t feel pressured? You won’t cry tomorrow because you’re not a virgin anymore?”

  “I’m sure,” she answered, feeling it right down to her soul.

  His dark eyes glittered at her. “We’ll see. For now we will wait. I want you, but I saw how upset you were after you went to confession. I’m not interested in being the man who stands between you and your faith.”

  The expression on his face was focused but unfathomable. She shivered, wishing she knew what he was thinking, but also loving that she had no idea.

  He made her want to be bad.

  For her entire life she’d been a good girl, other than the one time she’d borrowed her brother Vanya’s motorcycle without asking. Compared to how worldly most women her age were, she felt like a silly child. Even in Penza, where she’d gone to university, she’d been shunned by the other girls in her cohort, too innocent and backward to make friends easily. She’d spent her time there studying hard, trying to deserve the chance her rich American benefactor had given her. At the time she’s thought him nearly a saint, to hear his baba and the rest of the village speak of him. He’d done so much for so many.

  The way he watched her now, though, as she lay naked in his bed, reminded her he was very much a sinner.

  Varushka’s family had been ecstatic when Baba Nina had suggested the match, thinking a marriage to such a decent, wealthy man would be a wonderful opportunity for her. It was, but not in the way they thought. Maybe there was enough darkness in him to have done unscrupulous things in the past, but she didn’t believe that of him now. Papa wanted her to spy on him, and find out if he’d done immoral things to start off in his business, but she didn’t care. Now she just wanted him to take her and make her his own before anything he might have done in the past came to light. To hell with what Papa thought of him. Konstantin was kind and smart and dangerous and sexy—the kind of man she had never imagined she’d catch.

  The ocean that separated her from her family was like magic. Here she was free to be a different Varushka—there was no chance that a cousin or neighbor from Nasva would stumble across them here. If she lay with Konstantin, no one would guess it from seeing her guilty face, except maybe for Everly and Kate, who would only hug and congratulate her. Being a good girl around him had a very different definition than what being a good girl meant while living in her papa’s house. She liked Konstantin’s version of good much better.

  “Well, then,” she said primly, recklessly pulling down the sheet so he could see all of her. “If you can’t bring yourself to lie with me, I’ll have to fix my problems myself. Again.” She gave a half-shrug, willing her heartbeat to slow. Staring into his eyes, she cupped a breast in one hand and let the other hand slide down between her legs. He didn’t stir, damn him, so she made a show of parting her legs and settling a finger determinedly over her clit.

  Konstantin sat up, the bed shaking with his movement. “Stop.”

  She forced herself to smile at him slyly, even though she was filled with a mix of arousal and fear. What would he do if she disobeyed?

  “But Master, when you said I couldn’t pleasure myself, surely you didn’t mean ever? If you won’t lie with me until we marry, you can’t expect me to wait all that time.”

  His eyes narrowed, irritated yet aroused. Maybe teasing him was a foolish idea, but if she didn’t goad him he would just cuddle her all night while she was expected to go back to sleep. She didn’t want to go back to sleep. She wanted to know what all the fuss was about sex. She wanted her big, bad Master to make her scream with pleasure, and maybe with pain, too. He had linked pain and pleasure together in her head so many times that it was getting hard to pull them apart.

  Although she’d thought the cane was awful, the memory of him standing over her, holding it and gazing down at her with his eyes alight made it more arousing than a kiss. There was something very intimate about choosing to let the man she loved punish her because he liked it. Knowing one word from her would make him stop was more power than she’d ever felt in her life. Except maybe when she’d made him grunt with pleasure when he came in her mouth.

  The heat between her legs intensified, but all Konstantin had done was sit up on the bed.

  “I can see how tired you are, Master. Let me see to this work for you, and you can go to sleep.” She bit her lip, giddy at the way he bared his teeth at her, like a threatening dog. Was she going mad? The idea that he might punish her again was exhilarating.

  Show me you can Master me, even when I’m bad.

  Konstantin stood, then grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly from the bed. Her heart sped. He was going to bend her over a piece of furniture and spank her, then shove his cock deep inside her and make her weep with pleasure. She knew it. The tension in his body mirrored her own.

  “Little girls who brat don’t get what they want,” he growled and marched her to the corner of the room. But there was no furniture there to bend her over—how would this work? Firmly, he placed her facing the corner. “Stay,” he barked.

  “Here?”

  “Yes.”

  She frowned at the corner. The neutral paint color, which she’d found so calming and classy earlier, did nothing to help her figure him out.

  “Why?”

  “You’re being punished for trying to make me do what you want. If I want to do something, I will do it. If you want me to do something, there are ways to ask.”

  She wanted to grumble at him that she had asked, but she didn’t think it would go over well. Staring at the corner, she waited. Why was she staying where he put her? She was an adult and had been raised by strong women, and yet here she was following Konstantin’s orders like a dubiina. Only a woman as dumb as a piece of wood obeyed a man like she was doing.

  If she didn’t stay in the corner, though, what would he do? Doubtlessly, he’d be disappointed. She didn’t understand all the rules yet, so he was teaching her like a child. But why was obeying him making her thighs damp?

  Shyly, she glanced back at him, assuming he’d be staring at her bottom. Instead, Konstantin had gone back to his computer and ignored her. Outrage sparked along her mind. How dare he stick her in the corner and ignore her?

  Varushka’s angry thoughts chattered around one another like squabbling chipmunks, while she tried to decide what to do. Had she been too forward, and he was trying to show her she meant nothing to him? That one hurt. But he’d just said he loved her, so maybe that was wrong. Maybe he was showing his disapproval of her trying to goad him into doing something he didn’t want. But why didn’t he want to have sex with her? Was she too ugly, even though he’d said he loved her? Maybe he thought of her like a little sister. But if that was true, he wouldn’t have his hands on her so much, right?

  She sighed loudly, confused and exasperated.

  “Is there a problem?” He had silently moved up behind her and the feel of his lips brushing her ear made her whole body quake. Her nipples tightened until she
was afraid they’d make scratches in the wall paint.

  “I—I . . .” The rest of her words were cancelled out by her own loud breathing.

  “You, what?”

  “I’m confused, Master. You like when I let you touch me, but you don’t want me to be like American girls. So you want me to act like a shy virgin and let you treat me like a bliad?”

  He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “I don’t treat you like a whore, Varushka. I treat you like you’re mine.”

  The word “mine” shivered through her body, and she thought maybe her slickness might leave a shameful puddle on the floor.

  “You are mine, aren’t you, Varushka?” His hand slid around her throat, gripping it over the collar. Her lashes fluttered and she forgot about breathing. When he let go the collar would feel like an echo of his grip. She’d taken courses about abuse, but this assertion of his authority over her body was different. This she could eat for breakfast and not need anything else all day.

  “Yes, Master.” She’d whispered so quietly she could barely hear herself, and yet the truth was loud within her. “I’m yours.”

  Lips brushed the back of her neck and she cried out, letting her forehead press against the corner. He hadn’t let go of her throat, but the gentle firmness of his grip was even more arousing than a finger pressed on her clit would be. His mouth traveled in slow paths over the back of her neck, her shoulders, and the bits in between. Warm breaths made the little hairs there stand on end, and every bone in her body melted. Her sounds of pleasure were loud and tawdry, but she couldn’t help it. When his mouth paused behind her ear and he made a humming noise, her orgasm threatened. She was so confused and aroused, her eyes welled with tears.

  “Master, please,” she begged.

  “Please, what?”

  Varushka pressed her ass back against his groin and whimpered. He cursed and bit down on her neck. Beads of sweat formed on her skin, and she felt feverish.