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“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.
“I need you, Master. Please?”
He grumbled something, then walked back to his chair and sat. Ashamed, she turned her face back toward the corner and tried to dry the tears that tracked down her cheeks. It was hard to do without a shirt to wipe them.
“Come here.”
