Chapter Text
Head pressed against the dark solid wood of the door and Alina is too afraid to breathe, she might miss something.
It’s just so unfair that this house is so old and the doors so thick and she can’t catch more than a few words of what they’re saying. She hears someone talking of a dowry and laughing and she thinks she might have heard something about a farm and more laughs.
Damn.
Damn.
No, this is serious.
Fuck.
She needs to get out of here. Maybe if she runs away she can start a new life somewhere. New name, new identity. It could work.
She’s seen Gone Girl, it can be done.
No, no, no but she had to go back to her husband in the end after everything went wrong. She wouldn’t mind having to kill someone but she can’t bear the idea of doing all that work and then having to go back.
Husband.
She’s going to throw up.
Who is she kidding, she can’t go anywhere. She has no real skills besides music. She could play and sing for money on the street. There are people who do that. But then again no matter where she goes someone would probably realize that the Starkovs’ heiress is putting on a show for spare change.
Russians are everywhere, they would find her. Also she doesn’t even have a passport. Mama keeps it in the safe.
She could kill her husband, that is always an option.
Not a bad option in itself but they would find her another one and after two deaths people would start connecting the dots.
So there is that.
No way out of this.
She really is going to throw up.
But it suddenly feels stupid to throw up while sober.
They are going to marry her off to that man and they haven’t even allowed her to get drunk. Ever.
At least that’s something she can change, right now.
She steals a bottle of vodka off of the kitchen and some orange juice and makes her way quickly out of there. The kitchen is full of waiters and chefs and people shouting about one thing or another. She uses the side door to avoid rejoining the party, it would be impossible for her to get drunk if anyone sees her.
And it’s more dramatic to get drunk alone.
She hates this house, big and beautiful, tastefully decorated unlike her own parents’ gauche mansion. When she was a child, they used to come here for Papa’s meetings or so she could play with Genya. She used to imagine what it would be like to live here. To own the pretty green and gold paper on the walls. To be able to play the grand piano any time she wanted. To sleep on the huge high bed in the master’s bedroom surrounded by the smell of wood, leather, and cardamom.
But while she was allowed to look, she was never allowed to touch and the resentment grew alongside her. The longing for being mistress of a house like this and for being able to choose her own husband slowly made her loathe every nook and cranny of this place.
But as much as she might hate the place, she knows it well, so it’s easy to find her way to the study. It’s completely empty and she ignores the big desk with the imposing leather chair in favor of the deep green sofa. She has so many memories of falling asleep right here as a child. The calming smells of the room and the silence bringing her more happiness than her own house ever could.
She opens the vodka and realizes she forgot to bring a glass, tries drinking it straight from the bottle. The bitter burning taste on her mouth so unfamiliar and unpleasant she spits the whole mouthful as soon as she tries to swallow.
Now her dress is ruined. Her ugly orange dress, more fitting for a nun than a girl. Actually spitting might not have been a bad idea.
She tries the vodka again. Small sips this time, the taste chased away with the orange juice. Time passes and she keeps drinking.
Vodka then juice then vodka then juice then vodka…
So this is what being drunk feels like.
This is amazing, her head feels light and for once thinking about marriage to that man does not bother her at all. She will kill him and that would be all.
it’s ok, it can’t be that difficult.
Her dress smells bad. It’s disgusting, the smell of alcohol mixed with the smoke that was coating the main room when she came in sticking to the fabric. Might as well just take it off.
She is left in her white slip. Mama insists that every lady wears a while silk slip under her dress. Unless she’s a whore. Alina is not a whore, so she wears one. But she refuses to wear a bra as well, one layer of underwear is enough. That might make her a whore, now that she thinks about it.
Some time passes while she’s drinking. She lays on her back on the sofa and hums to herself for a while. It feels peaceful for the first time in a long time, head empty and muscles relaxed. She could fall asleep here.
— 🌟 —
“What is this then?”
A voice.
Whose voice?
She tilts her head to the side and sees him by the door. Mr Morozov standing there, he looks…angry?
She's not sure at the moment, he is a very difficult man to read.
He looks very handsome in his navy suit, it’s perfectly tailored and his hair looks incredibly put together and soft. He is always put together and she figures he has to be, the head of the Morozov’s family cannot be caught looking ungroomed.
Her father never bothers to look more than decent. He wears expensive suits that are badly tailored, his balding head slick and shiny like an oiled bowling ball, and his fingernails always have dirt under them.
Some of the other men are like that too, not only Papa. Too lazy and too ugly and too arrogant to think looking pleasant is even necessary when they are already rich.
Mr Morozov is not like that. He wears the nicest suits she’s ever seen, smells like leather and dark spices and sometimes like faint traces of expensive loose tobacco. His shoes always shine, almost like he wants you to lick the perfect surface of them and find out for yourself how good he is at caring for his things. He deserves to be the boss just by that fact alone.
“I’m drinking.”
“I can see that. Where are your clothes ?” Definitely angry then.
It’s so unfair that she can never have what she wants and now that she got one tiny little thing that she wanted he is mad.
It’s not fair .
“What’s not fair, princess?” He comes closer to her.
With her whole body laying on the sofa she realizes there is no place for him to sit. That might be why he’s mad. She tries to stand up and wobbles to the side, quickly losing her balance.
He’s next to her in an instant, holding her arm to steady her and using his other hand to hold her jaw and force her to look up at him.
“Were you here with someone, Alina?” His voice is hard and the hand on her jaw unpleasant but she can’t stop looking at his black eyes. She’s always wondered if other people have eyes like him or if he is the only one in the world with eyes darker than black. His eyelashes are so long and thick that they are casting shadows under his eyes. There's a perfectly round spot under his eye, a tiny mole. Unbelievable.
She shakes her head no. She was hiding, why would anyone be here?
“Are you waiting for someone? To meet them here?”
She shakes her head again.
“I’m- i’m- I am very sorry I used your study Mr Morozov.” She replies, voice prim and proper, the perfect little lady her mom raised.
Please don’t be mad .
She’s starting to feel a familiar sensation in her throat and she doesn’t know how long she’ll be able to hold her tears if he’s truly mad at her.
“Then why did I find you drinking half naked on my couch, looking like you are waiting for someone to find you, Alina?” His eyes are beautiful but he can be so mean, it’s really unfair that he chooses to be both.
If one thinks of his face, and she’s done that often, she especially likes the lines on his forehead and that nice patch of white hair that glimmers in the light. Would his whole hair turn that color someday she wonders.
Wait, did he come here to meet someone?
He is an older man, he must be experienced with women. Zoya certainly seems to think so. She said as much that time a man got angry at Mr Morozov during a gala because his wife was trying to get him to go home with her.
“That idiot is mad because he knows Mr Morozov is a good lover and could seduce his wife .”
Alina asked Zoya how she knew that and she said you can just tell by looking at him. Alina tried really really hard to erase that memory from her mind so she was very pleased when Zoya told her a few weeks later that the woman was now a widow and had moved back to St. Petersburg. She would not have to see her around anymore.
He is not with that woman now, or any woman for that matter. He’s still holding her, so close and so possessively that she smiles up at him.
“Would you fuck me if I asked, sir?”
She can’t read his eyes but they’re so close that she hears it. The moment his breathing stops, pauses for longer than what’s healthy, and then resumes again.
And then he’s dragging her to the sofa, his strong hands holding her arms and pushing her down to sit.
His hands are so big they span her shoulders. They feel warm on her exposed collarbones, so so close to her neck. If she tried to stretch a bit she could force his fingers to land there, she thinks.
“Wait here. Do not move.” A hard stare, his mouth pursed in annoyance and he walks away from her before she gets the chance to ask him again.
This is so unfair.
A horrible feeling of shame and embarrassment and defeat filling her throat and there is no way, she’s going to cry. She has already humiliated herself so she should be free to cry too. .
Through watery eyes she sees him walking to the door and talking to someone standing outside.
“Ivan, bring water and tell Genya to leave the party and wait upstairs in her room. No one comes to this room or this floor.”
She doesn’t particularly like Ivan but he must be pretty quick because a bottle and a glass appear on his hands and he turns around to look at her.
“You’re going to drink this and you’re going to explain everything that is happening right now.”
He sits next to her and isn’t that nice. He smells nice. It does something funny to her body, smelling him and feeling the heat of his body right next to her almost naked frame.
It’s…new. Well, not completely, she’s been around him before, but never this close and never alone.
He puts the glass and bottle on the side table and grabs her legs, quickly lifting her and sitting her on his lap. Her slip rides up like this, most of her legs on display since she is straddling his thighs, but she feels so comfortable she can’t be bothered worrying about modesty.
Her head notched in the curve of his neck and she drinks small sips from the glass he has given her.
“Would that be so bad? To have—to have sex with me?”
“No, princess, it wouldn’t be bad. But it’s not appropriate, you know that. Why ask?” His voice is so loud since her ear is pressed to his chest. She hears something else too, the steady beating of his heart, clear and strong.
“I don’t want my first time to be with him.” She sounds pathetic, even to herself, and he must think so too because his grip on her tightens.
“Who? Your boyfriend?” His right hand is holding her thigh painfully and his left has made its way to her nape, holding tightly onto her hair there.
She giggles.
“I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m not allowed.”
“Who then?”
“My husband.”
His hand yanks her hair back, forcing her to lift her head and look into his eyes. He’s angrier now, expression darker than it was when he found her here.
“And who would that be, princess? As far as I know you are not married nor engaged?”
She doesn’t move her head from the awkward angle he’s holding her in, even if it’s painful. If he wants her like this, she won’t disappoint him.
“I wasn’t chosen for the Christmas recital, and then I got a bad score on the group assessment last week.“ A hiccup and she’s crying in full force again, fat tears running down her face. “And yesterday the new director of the conservatory called me into his office and said I wasn’t working hard enough and I might be kicked out.”
“And what does that have to do with a husband?”
Her neck is really painful now but she can take it.
For him.
“Mama and Papa said I had to be the best and do well in school if I wanted to continue studying. If I was serious about music I wouldn’t have to marry until after graduation.” He must think her so incapable, unable to excel in the only thing she’s good at.
“But it’s been very difficult lately and I can’t concentrate and Mama keeps saying that—that—'' she takes a big gulp of air, tasting her own tears in her mouth. “That I am lazy and an embarrassment and that I will be married to him by the end of the year.”
“And who is this man you are to marry then?” His mouth is lifting up at the corners, is this funny to him?
“Vasily Lanstsov. Mama said so.”
He laughs now, loud and powerful, making his whole face lit up as he does. She wants to feel proud of herself for managing to make him laugh but it doesn’t seem funny to her. She guesses if it was someone else marrying him then she might laugh too, he is a very ridiculous man after all.
The hand on her hair relaxes and allows her to put her head back on the crook of his neck. That same hand travels down her back, a finger slowly trailing her spine up and down as he speaks.
“So you decided to get drunk because you thought you were going to marry him someday?” A hint of humor in his voice.
“No, it’s going to be soon. I’m sure the director called Papa already because I saw him today talking to Vasily’s father and going into the big study— And you were there too! I heard you all laughing through the door.”
His right hand slaps her thigh painfully and it stings but she doesn’t mind it. It awakens something new in her, the sudden impact of his hand on her like that. Hot and electrical.
“Naughty, little Alina. You know you’re not supposed to.” Hands her the glass and it’s nice because her mouth is so dry and she feels her whole body start to flush.
“I thought about running away, but I knew they would find me.” She pauses and says in a low voice. “I think I will just kill him.”
He laughs again, this time the sharp loud sound echoes through the room and she squirms a bit on his lap.
“As far as I know there is no plan of you marrying anytime soon, princess, you’re only twenty-one.” And he would know, she reasons, he is the boss after all.
The boss of everyone she knows, especially Papa, who sometimes has to drink before going to a meeting with him, too scared he might not come back after another disastrous mismanagement of his affairs.
One hand gentle on her back and the other one still cruelly squeezing her leg and she can barely keep up. She’s not even feeling drunk anymore, her whole mind and body focused only on him.
“So you don’t wish to marry then? You want to be free and go into the world by yourself?” He’s mocking her but she takes it, will take whatever he gives her as long as that keeps his attention solely focused on her and only her.
“I don’t want to marry him .” She hides her face into his neck a bit more, voice quiet. “He is horrible, you don’t even know how horrible he is.”
“What do you mean?” His voice loses all its humor instantly, he’s way too perceptive to miss the quiver in her voice.
Oh so he’s angry again, but not at her this time.
“He hit me, once after a party. It was really hot that day so I had to step out to the garden and he was there kissing some woman. I don’t know her name but she’s married. He told me to mind my own business and slapped me in the face.”
She doesn’t even cry while telling him this, now that she knows she won’t have to marry that idiot anytime soon she can’t be bothered to care about the slap. It was rude, but he’s just some stupid boy, it doesn’t matter.
His hand travels back up, burrowing tightly into her hair.
“The Lantsovs used to be powerful people, did you know that, princess? But they are way too stupid to see danger and that made them weak.”
She agrees, she nods into his chest and rests her chin on his sternum, keeping her eyes on his face. His lips are very distracting, and so is his tongue, visible as he speaks.
“Well, it’s lucky that they have two sons, and I believe the younger one is a bit more capable. He will do well as the heir.”
She bolts up straight, her weight shifting and putting her center directly in contact with the cool fabric of his trousers, only her panties separating her sensitive pussy from it.
“Would you do that, Mr Morozov? Would you get rid of him for me?”
His hand moves again and she feels like this whole time he has been mapping out her body. It settles on her neck, finally, fingers loosely holding her there and isn’t that nice too.
Warm and safe. Contained. Like having a safety belt on, making sure she won’t fall.
“You used to call me Sasha when you were little.” He says softly, he seems almost sad at the thought.
“It’s not proper anymore, I’m a woman now.”
The hold on her throat a bit more firm but still pleasant.
“I can see that, Alina.” He hums deep in thought. “Maybe it is time for marriage.”
“Okay. That’s okay.” She says, but she’s too desperate not to add a condition to her agreement. “Just don’t let Papa choose, please.”
“I would not let your father choose between shades of white, Alina. I would never trust him with something so precious.”
That’s good. He is the most capable man in the world so he will find her a decent husband.
She still feels the weight of that future. Of a house that is not this house. Of a man that is not this man. Of children that won’t have his dark eyes or carry his name.
“What are you thinking of, princess? You can tell me anything.”
“Would you still do it?” She says, she is sitting on his lap and the last of the alcohol is giving her the courage to ask for this. “Have sex with me, I mean. I would like it to be with you, the first time.”
A pause.
“Please, Sasha.”
Hand tight on her throat now, her air flow restricted and making her heart pound faster in her chest.
“You think I’m going to fuck you and then gift you to some idiot who won’t even understand the value of what has been given to him?” His voice is angry, eyes almost enraged. “Do you think me so stupid then, huh?”
“No, no, i’m sorry sir I—”
She can’t speak, the strong grip of his hand on her throat making it impossible for any air to go in or out of her lungs.
“Well, I am not a stupid man, Alina. I can see a prize when it’s right in front of me, and I want you to understand that there was never any outcome for this but you being mine . I would not have allowed you to marry anyone else, not for love or duty or any other alternative.”
Maybe his words and his eyes and that silver patch of hair are actually more important than breathing because she can’t seem to care about air at all when he’s holding her this close.
Not when he’s saying that he wants her, that he wants to choose her, after all the years of pining and disappointment she is finally getting what she thought was impossible.
“You must have misunderstood my patience for generosity but I am a selfish man, Alina. And it’s about time you realized that you have always belonged only to me .”
She is nodding furiously, as much as his hand allows. He eases up and she’s able to take a deep breath.
That cruel hand is still on her neck when he kisses her. His lips firm, relentless, pushing against her mouth and swallowing her gasps. They feel soft, softer than his hands have been on her. He acts like a man in complete control, moving her right or left according to his taste and she has no problem following directions, she’s always been an apt student after all.
She has kissed a couple of boys and girls but it was never like this. His tongue and lips are so demanding on her mouth she can barely keep up. She tries using her tongue, the way she has seen people do in movies, swipes it shyly across his bottom lip and he pushes deeper, makes her open her mouth for him.
His left hand is lifted from her thigh and he uses it to hold her jaw and pry her mouth open. He is everywhere and suddenly there’s real fear inside her, afraid that he might eat her whole and leave nothing behind.
“Is this what you wanted then?”
She probably nods, she’s not sure with her head so fuzzy and not enough air in her lungs. Her mouth still open where he holds her.
He drags the tiny straps of the slip down her arms, bearing her chest to him. He latches onto one pink hard nipple, his teeth are sharp for just a second and then the soft feeling of his lips soothing the hurt.
It’s wet and she feels his mouth in her core, her cunt alive with each pass of his tongue there. She tries to squirm away, unsure of the proper way to react, would he be mad if she likes it too much? But trying to move away just makes her grind against him, only the fabric of her panties and the hardness of him to offer her relief.
“You are so sensitive here, Alinochka. I think you could come just like this, don’t you think?”
She’s trembling, too overwhelmed to know what she should answer, not enough air for second guessing herself.
“I— Ah- I don’t know.” She feels tears start to gather again and she just wants to know how to do this right and he keeps asking her questions and it’s so difficult. “Do I have to?”
“Don’t cry princess, you’re doing so well. Do you like it?”
Finally an easy question.
“Yes, Sasha.” A whimper as his other hand makes its way up to her ass grabbing her roughly, nails digging in. “Do you like me? Am I good?”
He groans at that. His lips are so pink where they meet the hair on his upper lip, shiny with spit. Such a handsome man, almost pretty from this close up, and to Alina it feels like the biggest privilege to be allowed to see him like this.
It’s exhilarating to know a man so intimately, this man, who holds so much power, who allows so very few eyes to witness his private life. And she’s the one here with him, watching him indulge himself on her body.
“You are so so good, princess. I think liking is a bit of a juvenile word for me but there is nothing I don't like about you. I have waited for so long, my love, you could never disappoint me.”
It feels like flying, a high like no other.
Good. Good. Good.
She’s so good.
And he likes her.
“Do you know what wives do, Alina?” She can tell he’s getting more worked up as they stay like this, with her tits out and her cunt grinding on him, but she can’t help it, it feels incredible and there’s nothing in the world she wouldn’t do to keep him like this forever.
“Of course, I’m a grown woman.” She huffs, she’s not totally clueless. She did ask him to fuck her so she’s not that innocent either. “I have watched porn.” She whispers, a blush blooming on her cheeks.
“By yourself?”
She blushes harder, thighs squeezing him unintentionally.
“I can’t— Mama monitors my devices. I saw it with Genya, during sleepovers sometimes. She showed it to me and we watched together…”
His eyes are playful and he’s sucking his lower lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the seam, but there’s nothing funny about the position of his body or the hardness under her.
“I should probably have a very serious talk with my sister. Seems like you two have been getting into some trouble under my roof without me knowing, huh? That’s very naughty.”
“You said I couldn’t disappoint you, don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, Alina.” He says it so calmly that when she starts pushing her off of him towards the floor she just follows, barely registering what he is doing with her.
“Why don’t you show me then? I want to see what my good little wife has learned.”
She’s on the floor now, bony knees digging into the green plush carpet and looking only into his eyes. And it’s really not fair because she would do anything he asked to be good and to be his wife and to please him.
It should concern her, that he seems to know that now, and he is the kind of man who won’t be afraid to use her desperation against her.
She sits there kneeling with her hands uselessly laying on her lap and her eyes focused on his, waiting to follow wherever he leads. His long beautiful fingers opening his trousers and the loud clink of his belt and suddenly his cock is there and there’s hardly any time to register the look of it, she just opens her mouth obediently and lets him guide himself inside her.
“Cover your teeth and breathe through your nose, princess. I will do the rest, don’t worry.”
How nice of him.
Except he really isn’t.
He feeds her his cock and it feels uncomfortable very quickly. He rests it on her tongue, not the whole length of him, just what she can hold in her mouth for now. She doesn’t dare move even as she feels spit start to dribble from the sides of her mouth.
“So good, princess, so good. don’t pull back now, okay?”
He keeps pushing, past the resistance at the back of her mouth, into the throat. She remembers all those voice exercises she did in school and how the instructor always said she was good at relaxing her throat.
One of his hands is tangled in her hair, pushing her head forward and she lets her tears fall but does not push back. He is so big, the girth of him already uncomfortable and the length cruelly hitting her throat.
She never imagined it would feel like this.
Full and almost dangerous, like he could easily hurt her if he wanted to.
She’s so much smaller than him, she feels fragile in his hands, still unsure of what that should make her feel. But it also feels exciting, she’s aware of how wet her underwear is, of how quickly she could come if he allowed her to touch herself right now.
She looks at his face, low grunts coming from his mouth and moisture gathering on his forehead.
She thinks of thanking him.
It feels good, her thoughts sluggish as she devotes most of her attention to his body, his needs. And she’s allowed to look at him for as long as she wants while they do this. She’s allowed to enjoy the weight and feel of his cock, of his hands on her hair. The nice smell of him and the soft feeling of being used and being useful and finding her purpose right here, kneeling in front of the most important man of her life.
“My good girl. Making me so proud, love. I’m almost done, you are taking me so well.”
She thinks he might be lying but can’t tell how long it’s been.
She can’t be sorry it’s taking a while, she’s getting used to the discomfort, the fullness. She’s slowly reaching a point of no return, a sense of floating, of being both completely in tune with every nerve in her body and being far far away where there is not a single thing to worry about.
His speed increases and he pushes her head a bit more, her nose coming in contact with the dark curls at the base of him. She can’t breathe like this, but he makes a pleased sound so she closes her eyes and waits for it to pass.
“ Saints .” He sounds awed, like he has seen the sun itself shining after a storm. “Hold your tongue out, princess keep your mouth open.”
He pulls most of his cock out of her mouth and she whines, already missing the weight of it on her tongue. He keeps rubbing the head on her tongue, back and forth, and her whole face is wet, tears and spit running down into her neck and chest. Her tits are wet too and it’s making her cold but she won’t move, not until he says so.
His grip on her hair tightens just before he comes, she is looking directly at his face, deeply flushed with exhaustion while his eyes travel between her mouth and her pointed breasts.
His come lands on the back of her tongue and he drags it with him all along its length. She curves her tongue trying to hold it there but some still falls down her chest, landing on her breasts.
“ Fuck, Alina . You look so good like this. Hold it there for a second, don’t move. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You took it so well, so pretty. ”
She does as he says, the taste of him on her mouth unfamiliar but not unwelcome. She would never complain, she would do anything to have this.
His hand grips her hair almost gently now and his eyes are so warm and adoring she can feel more tears roll down her face.
“You can swallow now, pet, go ahead. Well done. ”
She obeys and smiles up at him, feeling the warmth of his praise deep in her chest, filling her with an almost euphoric sensation.
She rests her head against his leg and closes her eyes briefly. She did well, she worked hard for this.
“ Thank you, daddy .”
“Alina” He groans. “I just came, give me a fucking minute here before you say something like that.”
She giggles, euphoric and happy, sunshine cursing through her veins.
“Sorry, daddy. I can wait.”
He groans so loudly her whole body trembles at the noise.
“Where did you learn to say that, princess?”
“Genya said some people like that, and that it can be nice…to let someone take care of you.” Her voice is hoarse, lower than she’s ever heard it. It should be concerning, she has a recital in four days.
He rubs his elegant hand over his face, messing up his perfectly styled hair, a bit long on the top and falling onto his face.
“I’m going to have a very awkward and serious talk with my sister. I’m afraid to ask what else she has shown you. She has been trying very hard to get me to buy her her own horse for years now, I guess she was trying harder than I thought.”
Her inhibitions are low and her head feels heavy and full of nothing so she can finally ask the question that has burned in her for so long.
“You call her your sister, but I always thought you were meant to marry her. That she was... chosen for you.” She manages to contain her jealousy pretty well, she thinks. She’s been doing it for years to the point it has now become easy as breathing.
“She was, yes. When I turned twenty-three my mother decided to do things her way. She found her back home. Her parents were dead but very respectable and her mother was a known beauty so Mother took her in with the idea that I would party and play around and then come back to marry this girl she had chosen for me once I tired of the bachelor life.”
Alina knows some parts of this story, she can still remember when she met Genya for the first time. They were around the same age and Mama took advantage of it, placing Alina in the Morozov’s house as often as possible with the excuse of getting the girls to play together.
Even then, Alina knew she would never be like Genya. She was, even as a little girl, stunningly beautiful, with soft feminine features and stunning big eyes. She was elegant and did not try to play in the mud like Alina. She didn’t even want to sneak into the studio or the master bedroom. She was the perfect lady and Alina learned very quickly about jealousy and longing.
“I always saw her as a little sister. She was only nine and too shy to even look at my face at first. It was never anything more and, while I allowed my mother to think she was getting what she wanted for a while, she became too insistent when Genya turned fifteen so I had to invite her to leave the country.”
“Have you ever seen me like that?” She is almost afraid to ask, afraid of him telling her that this is wrong and she should be ashamed of what she feels for him.
“No, Alina. I loved you for who you were then and I love you now for who you are now.” He sounds tired, resigned but not ashamed, and it sparks hope inside her, that she might get to have this after all. “But It’s a different kind of love, I could never love little Alina like I love you. As a woman.”
Her heart is suddenly beating a mile a minute.
Love.
He said love.
“Is it like that for you or do you see me like a brother?” He seems a bit nervous and it makes him look younger, almost like the handsome boy she had known as a child.
“I dreamt of being your wife before I even knew what a wife was. I used to imagine that this was my house and that someday I would get to hold your hand all day and night.” She smiles up at him, letting her face show the depth of her feelings, the deep longing she has carried for so long. “Also you were barely there most of the time, I had to fight for crumbs of attention, you would never qualify as a brother.”
He laughs and she’s proud of making him laugh this time. She laughs too because it is funny, this incredible moment between them. The fact that they have found each other finally, after all that pining, they’re here together.
“I love you too, Sasha.”
“Come here, princess.”
She’s pulled up back into his lap. And it feels nice to give her knees a break, she kisses his chest as a thank you.
“Did you really mean it?”
“What exactly?”
“About us marrying .” She mumbles into the soft fabric of his shirt, resting her nose on his breastbone.
She’s heard of men who promise things to get girls to say yes to sex and then change their minds. It’s terrifying, the possibility that this will be taken away from her.
“Only if you want, princess. We can be engaged for a while if you’re not ready, you’re so young.” His voice is calm while he says it but she can see it, the guarded look in his eyes.
“I want to. As soon as we can, please, Daddy.”
It’s possession. That look in his eyes when he looks at her. It has taken her a while to see it but now she wonders how long it’s been there.
“So you do want to be my little wife, don’t you princess?”
She feels him hardening against her and she’s proud of it. She might be inexperienced but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him at all.
“So it wouldn’t matter, right? We can have sex now if we will marry soon anyway?”
His hands are back on her, finding homes in places where it’s starting to feel familiar, one around her neck and the other one on her ass.
“You’re so desperate, aren’t you? Of course you are, you didn’t get to come.”
She huffs and shakes her head. It’s actually unfair. She wasn’t going to say anything but If he’s willing to bring it up so is she.
“It’s not fair, daddy. I was good.”
“I will tell you what’s fair or not fair, princess.”
Her whole body trembling, she registers the air being choked out of her first and then two of his fingers traveling the length of her underwear. He goes up and down a few times, through the slickness gathering there. She can tell that pleases him, but she’s getting so desperate it’s hard to hold her whining now.
He must be tired of teasing because he pushes her down onto the sofa, fully on her back with one leg dangling to the floor. It almost gives her whiplash, this little dance they are doing going from a normal conversation to this… insanity.
How much more will he push now that he knows how she thrives on pleasing him.
He pulls her panties down and then the slip goes next. She’s fully naked on his sofa in the middle of his study and he’s looking at her like he wants to break her.
“Pretty little thing. You haven’t stopped begging me to fuck you since I came in here. Well, princess, you’re going to get your wish.”
He kisses her mouth, a hard press of his lips and then his tongue pushes in. He quickly tires of just kissing her and makes his way down her throat. A sharp bite that stings followed by a couple more, down down down . It stings, badly, and he will surely leave a mark but she can’t complain when every bite is followed by a tender swipe of his tongue.
He goes for her breasts next. She can see it on his face, how much he likes them, the way he seems transfixed by them, unable to look away. Alina knows that is going to be an issue for him because she plans on using that information against him as often as possible.
Some of his come is still drying there, in between her breasts and a few drops on each tit and he works around it, making sure not to disturb his previous work.
He keeps going down, unhurried, and she’s starting to lose that connection to reality, her brain emptying—
She gasps when his mouth finally makes it to her cunt.
“So pretty here too. Lift your leg for me, love, nice and open.”
One leg dangling on the floor, the other one perched on the back of the sofa and she’s completely at his mercy.
“Sasha, daddy, please, please—“
His mouth is fully open, tongue darting out when he finally kisses her cunt. Wet, tender swipes of his tongue where she feels like a raw nerve exposed to the world.
Alina feels like screaming, like she should stop crying so she can look at him and drink in the view of his face pushing her open but she can barely get enough air into her lungs to avoid passing out as it is.
It feels like nothing else. His mouth so wet and hot, the rough drag of his beard on her tender skin, the surprisingly soft suction of his lips on her clit. One finger teasing her entrance, not gentle at all.
“You taste so sweet, my love. I will have you like this every day after we marry. My pretty little wife flat on her back, not a single thought in your head that it’s not about me, does that sound good?”
She can not possibly speak right now but it does.
It really does.
It’s a very comfortable sofa so she could stay here as long as he wants. Let him eat her out, or fuck her, or do whatever he pleases in every room in his house.
Her house.
Her husband.
Hers.
And maybe that’s why this thing, this enormous dark thing that seems to bring both their deepest natures right out into the open works.
Because she’s also possessive and greedy. And she will marry him and he will be hers and only hers and she will not let anyone come between that. She will protect that at any cost necessary.
“Daddy please–”
His teeth a faint sharp feeling on her clit and his sharp nails digging into her nipple.
“Please, please let me come please—“
“Be a bit patient, didn’t I wait for you? I think you can wait your turn too, isn’t that—“
“But I DON’T WANT TO .”
A sharp smack of his hand across her face and she suddenly feels more clear headed.
He just slapped her, the heat of the impact starts blooming on her face and traveling down her neck. She clenches, one of his fingers still deep inside her, and she must be soaking his face and hand.
“Don’t interrupt me while I am speaking, Alina. Do you understand?” His face hovers just above her cunt and he looks so intense she’s pinned in place by the cruel expression on his gaze. “Now, you’re going to come twice on my mouth and then I will give you what you want so desperately. Understood?”
She sobs, full gulps of air shaking her chest every time she inhales. She nods furiously and tries to focus on following his orders.
“Good girl. Stay still now, ok? Daddy is working hard and doesn’t want to be disturbed.” He chuckles.
She does love him so so much but what a fucking asshole .
He resumes his exploration of her cunt. He keeps a stable pace at the beginning, paying close attention to her sounds, constantly bringing her almost to the edge and then changing the rhythm when he feels her get agitated.
She starts sweating, babbling, trying to control the rhythm with her hips, too overwhelmed to pay attention to what she’s saying at such a time but he seems to approve because he keeps going.
It all feels too hot and wet, it’s way too much stimulation for someone as unfamiliar with it as she is. She thinks she might pass out at some point, she’s not too sure, it definitely feels like she’s drifting in and out of herself. Tears, sweat, drool and slick coating her body. She thinks it might be months since this all started, it must be, can’t barely remember being anywhere but here.
After a while she feels him change his intensity, he becomes more focused and less restrained, three of his long fingers are inside her now, and when did they even happen?
She feels herself approaching that point of no return and when she clenches and looks at his face he doesn’t try to pull away this time.
He allows her to come, keeping his speed steady and his dark eyes on her as she sobs his name. There’s hot and cold blood running through her veins at the same time. A faint ringing in her ears. A trickle of slick leaving her body and dragging down her leg.
“Thank you Sasha thank you thank you—“
“One more, Alina.”
She almost wants to say no but that won’t work. He won’t listen.
She could scream.
But instead she nods and sniffles. It’s way too much, way too soon, he hasn’t given her time to rest or catch her breath so when he lowers his mouth to her cunt again it’s not immediately pleasant.
“You can give me one more right princess? And then I will put my cock right here.” his fingers press deeply inside her while he speaks. “I will be the first, right?”
She nods frantically, and he resumes the work of his mouth on her. It tethers the line between pain and pleasure, but it keeps growing and growing. There is a strange feeling like cotton on her mouth, her eyes blurry and unfocused. She wants to use one of her hands to push him away but instead it burrows into his hair and grips him tightly.
He is unrelenting and one moment she thinks she won’t be able to come at all and the next she’s there. Her whole body shaking and she can’t say his name but she lets out a loud noise, pain and pleasure coexisting inside her for a long endless moment.
He kisses her on her belly and then on the mouth, gently and kindly, making her cry harder.
He rearranges her on the sofa, moves her legs and arms how he wants them and holds her hands. The gentle swipe of his thumbs around her wrists as intimate as anything they just shared. He kisses her palms and then nips playfully at her fingers.
“Thank you daddy” she sniffles, trying to focus her eyes on him.
He seems watchful now, looking for signs of something on her face.
“I should put you to sleep, Alina, I think it’s enough for today, we can wait for tomorrow.”
She didn’t know she had the energy for it but she breaks one of her hands free of his hold and uses her sharp nails to scratch him. A hard swipe of her nails down his neck and she realizes he hasn’t even taken his clothes off for this.
“NO!” she must be shouting, she feels feral and desperate and fucking angry. “You said I could have it! It’s not fair, Sasha.”
“Alina, be reasonable, it’s a lot to take for your first time.”
“You said I could have it if I came and I did. Are you a liar then?” She knows it’s too much but the words are out there before she can think it through.
“I should slap you again for that. But I'm feeling generous, love, and I have a feeling you’re going to be a quick learner.”
She thinks she nods but soon after he says that he starts to remove his clothes and her head goes a little fuzzy at the sight. His suit jacket and shirt go first and she has the clarity of mind to be thankful he doesn’t wear those old man undershirts. He is quick and efficient in removing his trousers and underwear and suddenly he’s completely naked in front of her.
He is so handsome, almost pretty, but she should probably never tell him that. He has a solid but elegant frame and she swipes her nails down his chest where some dark hair seems to grow. Who knew men could look like this. Who knew they could alight her heart at the simple sight of bared skin.
But where she really wants to look is down, where the patch of hair under his belly button leads to his cock. He is hard again, long and so pretty and close, her mouth waters again.
She knew all that begging was for something.
He sits back into position and rearranges her, pushing both her legs up into her chest and holding them there.
“Hold your legs up for me, princess, nice and open.” He kisses each knee and she feels herself drip down into the sofa.
He aligns the tip of his cock to her entrance and maybe she should be afraid but there is not one part of her that isn’t desperate to finally finally have him inside her.
“Take a deep breath, princess.”
He pushes in slowly but it’s too much. The shape foreign inside her. She’s too small, it won’t work. She looks at his face, tries to tell him that it’s impossible, she’s not made for this. But he’s not looking at her face. No, he’s looking at the place where they’re joined, where his cock is slowly making way for more.
He kisses her mouth, pushing her weight down and forcing her to fold her legs tighter to her chest. Another kiss on her nipple, gentle this time. And she feels something inside her start to give, opening up to let him in.
“Alright, well done, just a little more.”
There’s sweat running down her temple, her hair a mess under her, impossibly tangled. She attempts to look down, to get a glimpse of how much more she’s supposed to take but it’s impossible with him standing in the way.
He is endlessly patient while she just lays there, tires to breathe and waits for a sign that it’s all in. His thumb pressing on her clit helps too, the fit is so tight that she feels it when she relaxes just enough to let the final inch slip inside.
He stops for a second, breathing hard like this is as difficult for him as it is for her. Which she doubts, he’s not the one being stretched to the point of desperation.
“Well done, princess, well done. It’s all in now.” He moves a little as he talks and she presses her nails into the skin of his shoulders to stop him. “Okay, we– I can wait, don’t worry…”
He closes his eyes, his brows furrowed in concentration as he breathes, runs his hand down her chest and starts circling his thumb around her clit again.
Ah.
That’s good.
That’s fantastic, actually.
That’s exactly what she needed to turn pain into pleasure.
He keeps doing that, checking her face for discomfort as he starts to move, dragging the length of his cock in and out of the slick path inside her. She moans, an unfamiliar sound but he seems pleased so she keeps going, letting him know what works.
The pain bleeding away into pleasure as he keeps moving, the relentless pace of his cock inside her becoming more, better, a fire that spreads and consumes her.
“I– I like it, I didn’t know…” She says, shocked that everyone keeps this a secret, that they don’t go around shouting how good it is. How life-altering.
That pleases him, she can tell by the faint smile on his lips, the way he presses his thumb inside her mouth as a reward.
“Does it feel good? Even when you’re so small, princess?” He grunts, the effort of producing words evident in his voice.
“I’m not—I’m not small, you’re just too big…”
He groans, pushes his thumb all the way inside her mouth towards the back of her tongue.
“You can’t say things like that, it’s not good for my conscience.” He replies with a shaky laugh. “Now stop squirming or I’ll tie you up.”
There’s an increasingly frantic energy inside her, her orgasm quickly building as he keeps fucking her, she sucks on his finger, tries to keep her eyes open and remember every second of this.
“Almost there, huh? Come for Daddy, princess.”
Those words, whispered so tenderly into her ear with the feeling of his cock dragging alongside something sensitive inside her are enough. She gasps as she feels her orgasm crest, digs her nails into his arms and comes. Eyes open as she takes in every expression on his face.
Bliss.
She starts coming down from her high slowly, faintly aware of the ringing in her ears. She hears Aleksander, groaning into her ear as he pushes into her, just a few more pushes of his cock inside her and he still. There’s a strange new sensation when his come lands inside her deep and she imagines it must be warm too.
He’s out of breath, dragging his parted lips along her mouth. For a few indescribably minute they stay intertwined together, sharing the same air, his warm fingers caressing her face like he’s trying to catalogue and keep every memory of this.
Later, he will help her dress again and carry her tired body up towards a guest room. He will lay her gently on the bed and when she grabs his hand, stay by her side until she falls asleep.
Much much later, he will be gone by morning.
But right now, with his body pressed to hers and his lips lazily keeping her awake, there’s nothing else in the world but them.