Can't Let Her Go

He’s one of those men who grow on you. Sometimes when you see a good-looking guy, you think he’s gorgeous, but the more you see him the more boring his looks seem to be, but with Hunter, he just becomes ever more intriguing and handsome with time. He’s what Russian women refer to as the full package. I grin inwardly. In more ways than one.

He looks at me as if he can’t believe his eyes, but in truth I’m as surprised by him as I am of myself. I have looked in the mirror and I know just how different I look, how sophisticated. I look nothing like the eighteen-year-old girl who left Sutgot. The makeup, the dress, my nails, and these tall shoes that I’m afraid I will fall from.

“You look terrific,” he says softly.

I let my eyes wander over the crisp white shirt, the big muscles in his shoulders and arms that the beautifully cut suit cannot hide and feel something flutter in my belly. “And so do you,” I murmur softly.

He holds out his arm, and I take it. “We’re going down to the lounge for a drink,” he says. “Then, we’re going to have dinner at a wonderful restaurant the bellboy told me about. After that, we’re coming back here for dessert. We could do more, but we have to fly out tomorrow and I don’t want you to be sick.”

“I know it will be the best night of my life.”

“You’re going to have many more great nights, Katya, many more.” Hunter leads me out of our room. “You smell incredible, by the way.”

“I sprayed perfume in the air in front of me and walked into it the way the make-up artist told me to. I hope I haven’t worn too much?”

“No you haven’t, but it’s all good. I like you with and without the perfume,” he says huskily.

We walk into the lounge and the men look at me. I’ve never been looked at by such sophisticated men before. The men in Sutgot stared at me, but they were oafs. They stare at all women like that. These are rich men, educated men, men with fine suits and gold jewelry.

Hunter leads us to a table in a cozy corner and a waitress comes to us immediately. Hunter tells her we will have vodka on the rocks, and she bustles away to fill our order. I look around at this beautiful lounge, at the soft lights and expensive … everything. The background piano music fits this room, these people. This is the kind of place I have read about and seen on TV. I never dreamed I would ever be in such a place. It is too much. I almost want to cry.

“Like it?” Hunter asks.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” I say.

“You’re not dreaming,” he answers.

“It’s really like a dream,” I tell him. “Do you always go to these kinds of places?”

“Naw,” he says with a laugh. “I don’t hang out in places like this. I can’t afford it, but I’ve saved for a very long time and I don’t want to die without spending it.” There’s something bitter about his laugh.

I take his hand and squeeze it. We’re the inmates on death row who get whatever they want for a last meal. I know we’re condemned and death is waiting around the corner, but I feel happier than I have ever felt. Right at this moment, I no longer care about tomorrow, about Anakin, about being a virgin. I’m happy beyond all measure. This is far beyond what I have ever imagined.

The waitress returns with our drinks, and Hunter makes a toast. “To non-virgins.”

I lift my glass. “To non-virgins,” I echo before taking a sip. It’s the best vodka I have ever tasted.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the room,” Hunter tells me.

I blush. “There are many women around us who are more beautiful.”

“But none like you. And none that have come through a blizzard to get here.”

I frown. “We shouldn’t talk about that.”

“I suppose not. Let’s talk about better things. Let’s talk about what you always wanted to be once you stopped wanting to be a ballerina or a gymnast. What’s your dream, Katya?”

I have to think for a moment. “I haven’t had a dream for several years, ever since my parents told me I was to be the next virgin. I suppose I gave up my dream at that point.” I lick my lips. “What do you think happened to all the other girls?”

Hunter shrugs. “I don’t know, and that’s the truth. I’m not trying to spin you. I am going to try and find out tomorrow though.”

“I agree. I’d like to know—but not tonight. Tonight, tonight I want to be the queen.”

His gaze is indulgent. “More like a Princess, but yes, you can be the queen. Tonight, you will be whatever you want to be.”

I hold up my drink, and we toast again. “And you’ll be whatever you want to be. Can you be my Prince?”

He smiles. “Have you ever seen Big Ben?”

“Who?”

“Not a who, a what. It’s the bell in the most famous clock tower in the world.”

“Can we see it?” I ask eagerly.

“We will, on our way to dinner. We’ll see it and several other famous sights. You’ll be Cinderella going to the ball.”

“And you’ll be the handsome prince. Only I have no glass slippers.”

“You don’t need them. You’ve already snagged the Prince.” He gives me a wink.

Hunter

We don’t have time to be proper tourists, so we take a taxi ride all around London, past Big Ben, London Bridge, Buckingham Palace, and the Embankment. Katya holds onto my arm and stares out the window as the driver gives us the tour. It’s fine, but it’s not as heady as her perfume and the vodka racing through my blood. She is a princess tonight, my princess. She’s everything that any prince would ever want. I want to keep that. I don’t want to think about tomorrow, or the fact that I cannot promise her anything real.

We’re on our way to a feast and that’s all that matters.

Katya’s eyes grow wide when we arrive at the restaurant and there’s a liveried doorman to open the car door for us. The place is first class all the way. A snooty headwaiter shows us to our table, and a smarmy waiter recommends expensive dishes, and we bite. I don’t care. Tonight nothing matters but seeing Katya’s face move from fascination to joy, to wonder, to astonishment, to amazement, then back to fascination again. Tonight belongs to her. And me. Tomorrow might be my last day on this earth, so I’m gonna make this night special.

The wine we order would eat up my entire month’s booze budget. It’s so much, it makes Katya’s eyes pop. Why not? I think, why not order something ridiculous. We’re not going to do this again. It’s now or never. The food is as good as the wine. The service is exactly what is expected. Some other diners regard us with something less than respect, but that doesn’t matter. I’m used to that, I have a tattoo on my neck that snakes out of the collar of my shirt. The men look at Katya and lick their lips. I can’t blame them really, she’s the best thing on the menu tonight.

After dinner, we go back to the hotel. It’s not real late, but it’s late enough. We have to fly out in the morning. Katya hangs on my arm like a beautiful trinket, but she’s not a trinket. She’s my trinket. I feel possession flare up inside me like a beast that has broken free of his chains. Something that I

have never felt before rises up inside me. She is mine. Only mine.

In our room, I ask if she wants room service dessert, and she says no. She has had enough food and drink for one night.

“What would you like?” I ask.

She blushes then she blurts out, “I want everything. Tonight, I want us to do oral sex on each other at the same time.”

A vein in my neck is already throbbing as I take off my jacket, and I feel that familiar stirring that only she can bring to my body. The yearning inside me is so elemental and intense, I can feel hot pre-cum leaking out. “Go in the bedroom and get naked.”

She doesn’t have to be told twice. She almost dashes into the bedroom, and Katya has no idea how much I want her, how much I want her to feel everything.

I strip as I head for the bedroom. By the time I get there, she has switched off the light. The winter moon is shining through the window, it’s luminance falling on her. She’s already on the bed, nude, smooth as silk, her glistening little cunt taunting me. Like an alluring moon goddess she calls to me to worship her. I slip onto her altar. My hands reach out to touch her silvery curves. I can smell her arousal and it is making me feel giddy.

“What do these tattoos mean?” she asks, delicately tracing the blue ink on my chest.

“They were my way of reclaiming my body. They helped to cover some of the scars and burn marks and gave me a feeling of being in control.”

“They’re beautiful,” she whispers.

“I hate them. I should have saved my skin for you. Your name should be on every inch of my body,” I murmur, sucking her nipples into my mouth.

She shivers. God, I love it when she shivers. Her fingers find my erection, teasing it, taming it. Her touch is incredibly erotic and I can feel my heart pounding like crazy. She’s a siren, a woman I cannot resist. I pull her close and kiss her, but my desire overwhelms everything else and I … devour her.