“You naturally are. Which is why you’re perfect and why I wanted you. I could tell by the way you danced on that stage. By the way you averted your eyes when anyone else looked at you. By the way you didn’t put up a fight when I told you we would marry. You’re naturally submissive, Sofiya. And you will be my sub. Soon enough. When you’re ready, that is.”

“When will that be?”

“When I say so.”

I drop my gaze to my knees. Mikhail wants to spank me—that’s pretty much what he’s telling me. Panic seizes my heart. “I don’t want you to hurt me.” Tears begin to fall from my eyes before I can stop them.

For just a small moment, Mikhail’s eyes soften. “I’m not going to hurt you, Sofiya. But I will push your body. It will be for your pleasure. Always your pleasure.”

“And yours?” I whisper.

“And mine, too.”

I look toward the door, thinking of that naked woman downstairs—Irina. “What about Irina? Are you going to … continue to see her?”

“I will, yes.” I flinch. “Until you’re ready to become my sub.” He cups my cheek. “But Irina isn’t the one I can’t stop thinking about. She just fills my desires until you’re ready.”

I have no choice but to meet his eyes again as he holds my face in his strong hand. “What if I’m never ready?”

“You will be. For me, you will be.”

How can I tell Mikhail that he both excites and frightens me?

“Is Andrei a … dom, too?”

“He is. We like to do scenes together. Sometimes, we share women.”

I jerk away from him. “You share women? Like …”

“Yes. Andrei has fucked Irina before. It doesn’t bother me.”

My head is swimming. Mikhail really is a stranger to me. And now I’m married to him and stuck living in his home in a country where I don’t even speak the language.

Realization dawns in Mikhail’s eyes. “He won’t touch you, Sofiya. I would never share you.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

He rubs his thumb along my cheek, comforting me. “You don’t have to say anything. I am a man with needs. With desires. And I desire you and no one else. I will never let another man touch you. You’re mine and only mine.”

But you’re not mine, I want to say. He still has Irina, and he won’t give her up until I’m ready. Ready for what, I’m not exactly sure. I just know I’m not ready to have sex with Mikhail, and if I’m not ready to have sex, I’m not sure I’ll be ready for anything he was doing in that room.

“Mikhail,” I whisper, unsure what I’m going to say.

His eyes darken as he leans in closer to me. I gasp. And then he kisses me.

It’s gentle but powerful. Mikhail kisses like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing. It makes me feel inadequate because I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve watched kisses on TV and in movies, but I’ve never done it before. Father would never have allowed it.

Thinking about my father makes me think of my mother and her kind face, words, and comforting touch.

I start to cry as Mikhail and I kiss. My tears slip down my face and brush my lips, intermingling with our kiss. Mikhail pulls away, a frown on his face.

“I’ve never made a woman cry from a kiss before.”

My tears are impossible to stop. It’s the release I’ve been looking for since my parents’ funeral. I haven’t had a good cry since then.

I curl into a ball and let the tears come. Instead of getting angry, Mikhail wraps his arms around me and holds me, which only makes me cry harder. He shouldn’t be comforting me. He should be pushing me to the side. It would make it easier to hate him. Easier to be repulsed by him.

But I’m not repulsed by him. And I definitely don’t hate him. I don’t really know how I feel for him—just that it’s complicated.

Eventually, I stop crying, and I wipe my tears as I pull away from him. “I was thinking about my mother,” I admit.

“While we kissed? I’ve never had that reaction before.”

“No. I was thinking about how my father never let me kiss anyone, and then it made me think of my mother, and then I was crying.”

He shifts on the bed. It’s only then I realize we’re on the bed together. “You were close? With your mother?”

“Yes. She was kind. She’d know exactly what to say to me right now.”

“And what’s that?”

“That everything will be all right.”

He swipes his thumb along my cheek, wiping away my stray tears. “Everything will be all right. You’re mine now, Sofiya. You’re the most protected woman on this earth. No one will hurt you.”

But you, I think. You want to hurt me. Mikhail wants to spank me like he was doing to Irina. The thought makes me cold.

“You were my first kiss,” I whisper.

“Good. I will be your first everything.”

My knees press together tighter. Why do I always feel a twinge of arousal when Mikhail says those things to me? He’s arrogant to assume he’ll get all my firsts, but I know he’s right. He will get all my firsts.

And I think I might want him to have them.

“I’ll leave you to sleep,” he says, standing up. “It’s late.”

“I slept most of the day. Jet lag.”

“You need to get on a normal routine. Go to sleep.”

“But I’m hungry.”

Mikhail turns the full force of his eyes onto me. “You will eat in the morning. Go to sleep now, Sofiya.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have to finish things with Irina.” His words jab me straight to the heart. I know we don’t have a normal marriage. Mikhail never made any vows to be faithful. I just have to hope he won’t sleep with her. That he’ll keep that one promise.