Six

SOFIYA

Iremain awake the rest of the night, waiting for Mikhail to come to me. I shouldn’t want that. I should be happy he has Irina to take his darker desires out on. But I can’t stop thinking about them in that room together. What are they doing? Why wouldn’t Mikhail allow me to stay?

And why do I care so much?

After about an hour, Mikhail finally shows up in our room. He stops when he sees me sitting up in bed.

“You’re still awake,” he says.

“I couldn’t sleep. Not after everything.”

He nods once and begins to undo the buttons on his shirt. It amazes me how cool, calm, and collected he is. He’s acting like he didn’t just whip Irina in front of me and make her orgasm.

“What did you and Irina do that I couldn’t see?” I blurt out.

“I had to comfort her. Make sure she was ok. I do that after every session.” He keeps his eyes on me as he says this—not hiding anything.

“What does comfort mean exactly?”

“I hold her and make sure she’s all right. Then she gets dressed and goes home. Nothing else.” He slides his shirt off, and I have to look away. His body is too much right now. For a man in his forties, he’s kept himself in really good shape. It’s overwhelming. All of this would be so much easier if he were ugly. If he were Boris. I could hate Boris.

I’m not sure I can hate Mikhail.

Even though I have every reason to. He took me from my home. He made me leave my sisters. He made me marry him when I didn’t want to. I should absolutely despise Mikhail.

“Why do you comfort her? She liked what you were doing to her. Why comfort her?”

“Because that’s how those things go,” he says, sliding into bed with me. I can feel the heat radiating from his body. Intoxicating. “Yes, Irina enjoys pain, but I have to make sure I didn’t hurt her too much. That’s never my desire. I like to push my subs to their limit, but I never go over.”

“Have you had a lot of … subs?” The word feels foreign on my tongue.

“I have. Irina is the one who has stuck, though. But I don’t just entertain women as subs. Some women I just like to fuck and call it a night.”

I flinch. “You’re so crass about it.”

“No. I’m honest about it. Wouldn’t you prefer me to be honest?”

“I guess.” I just wish he wasn’t so honest about it. Some things I think I’m better off not knowing.

He sighs as he lies down, resting his arm behind his head. It makes his bicep flex and look even bigger. I gulp. Mikhail’s body does things to me, confusing me. “Now, it’s your turn to be honest. How did it make you feel seeing me do that to Irina?”

“I hated it,” I say on instinct.

“I asked for honesty, Sofiya. You will be mine in every way. I need to know your limits so I can push them.”

“I was honest. I hated seeing you with her.” I feel his eyes boring into the side of my face, but I don’t dare look at him. “I don’t want you to be with another woman like that.”

“Fair enough. But I am a man of needs, and I’ll expect things from you. Are you willing to give me what I need?”

I don’t think I’ll ever be willing. “I’m not sure,” I admit.

He’s silent for a moment. “What else did you feel? Other than jealousy.”

“I’m not jealous,” I say quickly, glancing at him.

He raises an eyebrow, which only makes him look more handsome. I can feel it all the way between my legs. “You’re not?”

“Would you get jealous if a man did that to me?”

“I would. And no other man will ever do that to you.” His words have a chill to them that sends a shiver over me.

Mikhail’s possessiveness is intriguing. It makes me want to lean in closer to him. Have him comfort me. Not Irina.

“I was … I couldn’t look away,” I finally say. “But I don’t think I liked it. I don’t want you to whip me.”

“I won’t. It’s clear you won’t enjoy pain the way Irina does. But I am going to push you, Sofiya. When you’re ready. It’s good you’re asking me questions.”

“It is?”

“Yes.” His fingers skim up and down my arm. I hold still, not even breathing. “It means you’ll be ready soon. Now, let’s go to sleep. It’s been a long night.”

It has. I draw the blanket up high around my face and turn away from Mikhail. I don’t think I have it in me to face him again. Everything is happening so fast, and there’s no way for me to slow it down.

When I wake back up, I find myself pressed up against Mikhail’s back. I quickly turn away from him.

“You didn’t have to move.” His voice makes me sit up, my heart pounding.

“Sorry.” I get out of bed and hurry to the closet. I need to get out of this flimsy nightgown and into real clothes. I need something to protect myself against Mikhail.

He joins me in the closet again, but this time, he doesn’t dress me. He just keeps his eyes on me as he changes into a suit. I avert my eyes when he drops his pajama pants and slips into his slacks.

“You can look you, you know,” he says.

“I … can’t.”

When I look back, he’s fully dressed. Why does he have to look so good in a suit? My body tightens at the sight of him in a white shirt, navy jacket, and slacks.

“Aren’t you going to change?” he asks.

“Yes.” I grab a blue dress and another bra and underwear set. I stare at Mikhail, and he stares back. It’s only after a few seconds pass I realize he’s not going to move. He’s going to stand there and watch me change.

With a big gulp and a sigh, I let my nightgown fall down my body. Though I keep my eyes down, I can feel Mikhail’s gaze on me as I put on my bra and underwear. He doesn’t try touching me again. For some reason, I’m slightly disappointed.

Just slightly.