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When she finally managed to slow her breathing and focus, she noticed the car was parked in an empty lot.
Konstantin rested his head on the steering wheel. She watched him, biting her lip. Had she upset him?
“What’s wrong, Sir? Are you mad at me?”
He laughed humorlessly. “No. No, Varushka.” He moved his hand back over hers. “You were perfect.”
Her gaze fell onto his lap, where a giant bulge strained at his jeans. She remembered feeling that underneath her at the club. Now, she longed to feel it inside her.
She gave her head a shake. Bad, Varushka. We are not married yet.
He groaned and gripped the steering wheel. “Stop staring at it, woman, or I’ll give you an up close introduction.”
Quickly, she turned her head away. She didn’t want that, did she? No. What they’d done had been bad enough. Good girls didn’t do such perverted things in a car after getting turned on by perverted things in a club. She hadn’t been to church in too long. That was the problem.
Tomorrow, she would go to confession and pray for strength from God. She only hoped there was a church close by with a very open-minded priest.
With a frustrated sigh, Konstantin pulled out of the lot and drove them home.
* * *
Varushka paced the hallway outside Konstantin’s bedroom. The man was still asleep, damn him. It was nearly eleven o’clock. She’d never slept past eight, even on the weekend, so it’d surprised her this morning when she’d finally awoken and the clock read almost nine. They’d been out late last night, plus her body was still adjusting to the time change.
She’d cleaned the kitchen, even though it looked like it’d been cleaned already, then she’d washed their clothing from last night. She’d made breakfast, then covered a plate for Konstantin for when he woke up. Now, she had nothing to do but wait, pacing and chewing her thumbnail.
“Come in, Varushka,” he called from the other side of the door.
She stopped in her tracks. How did he know she was there? Had she woken him? Was he angry?
Nervously, she opened his door. The curtains were closed and only a crack of sunlight shone through the gap between them. It was light enough to see him sitting up in bed, the blanket covering his lap but leaving his chest bare. Her cheeks felt suddenly hot.
His bedroom had a forbidden feel at the best of times, but with him in it, in bed and shirtless, it was the definition of temptation.
“Why are you pacing outside my door, little bird?”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I-I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to wake you.” When he didn’t say anything, she peered up at him curiously. “How did you know?”
“I could see the shadow under the door. Nobody comes to clean on Sundays. Plus, I could hear you nibble your nail. It was either you or a giant mutant squirrel.”
“I’m sorry.”
After a quiet moment, he said, “Come here.”
Her body obeyed him even though her brain shouted to retreat. She still wasn’t sure if he was angry. And what would he do if he was? Punish her like the Dominants in the club? Spank her like a child?
God, she hoped so.
Her knees shook as she approached his bed.
She stopped at his side and kept her gaze down.
“If you ever need something,” he said, “you can knock on my door. You don’t need to be afraid of me.” After a quiet chuckle, he added, “Well, not right now anyway.”
Gently, he took her hand and pulled her so she sat on the edge of the forbidden bed. She was in a man’s bed. No good could come of this, especially after the way he had made her feel the night before. He cradled her jaw in his hand and turned her face to his so she was forced to look at him. “Now, what is it you want?”
“To go to church.”
He stared at her a moment, then dropped his hand and muttered something in English. Rubbing his hand over his face, he swore in Russian too. “I haven’t been to church in a long time.”
