“You get it when you get it.”
“I need Spotify, too. Or Apple music. Something to listen to.” Now I’m just testing him. Really want I need is access to the internet.
Of course, he knows what I’m up to.
“Nice try. You give me a playlist, I’ll download.”
“Did my brothers send the money?”
“Da.”
“I want to go shopping. Aren’t you supposed to be keeping me in the manner I’m accustomed to?”
Again, a hint of a smile on his face. “When you earn an outing, you’ll get one.”
Arousal heats between my legs when I consider how I might earn such a thing.
I’m guessing sex would get me a long way with Vlad.
Too bad I’m not willing to give it to him.
Although after last night, I’m not sure how much longer my resistance will take before it crumbles.
“When do my studies start?” Mika asks.
I snag a piece of bacon from Vlad’s plate and pop it in my mouth. “What studies?”
“I thought you could tutor him,” Vlad says, dropping the rest of his bacon onto my empty plate.
“What about school?” I ask.
“No school,” Mika growls in a perfect imitation of Vlad.
I roll my eyes. “Why not? Don’t you want to be around kids your own age?”
He shakes his head emphatically. “I want you to teach me.”
“Will you?” Vlad forks a stack of pancakes.
My mind is already running ahead with what it would take to get him going—assessments in each subject, etc. “It would have to be in English, of course. He would need someone else to teach Russian reading and writing.”
“I don’t need Russian.”
“I won’t be able to assess that,” I tell Vlad.
“I will assess and get other tutor if he needs it,” Vlad offers.
Mika brightens.
“I will need access to download a curriculum.”
“I’ll get what you need,” Vlad promises.
“Today?” I ask.
“Are we starting today?” Mika actually seems excited about the prospect. It occurs to me that he’s had far too little adult interaction or supervision. He’s ready to soak anything up, even tutoring in school subjects.
“Yes,” I say, even though I don’t know what I’m doing yet. The kid needs structure. I’m going to give it to him, starting today.
I look at the clock on the wall. “We will meet from 9 to 12 every day, Monday through Friday. You get weekends off to play.”
Mika snorts at the word play.
“You’ll have to learn to play. I know you had to grow up faster than you should’ve, but somewhere in there, there’s still a kid who wants to play.” I ruffle his hair and he ducks out of my reach. “Now go take a shower and comb your hair. I’ll meet you…” I hesitate.
“You can study at dining room table.” Vlad waves his hand toward the adjoining dining room with the long, beautiful cherry wood table.
“I’ll meet you there at nine,” I tell Mika firmly in my best school teacher voice.
He slides off his stool, leaving the plate on the table.
“Ah ah,” I chide sharply. “Take that plate to the dishwasher and tell Zoya spasibo.”
He obeys and Zoya seems pleased, glancing over at me with a bob of her head.
Vlad’s phone rings. “Excuse me, zaika, I have business to attend to. If you need anything, Zoya will help you.”
“Right, because I speak Russian so well,” I snark at his back as he walks out of the room speaking in terse Russian to his phone.
Vlad
I answer to Victor all morning—taking his calls, dealing with his money, joining conference calls, but all I’m thinking about is the way Alessia looked orgasming last night.
The taste of her pussy.
The feel of her supple skin beneath my hands.
I want to spread those thighs wide again and make her scream. I want her in trouble with me—ass bared and spanked, hands tied.
I want her breathless and hot and ready.
But I’m not going to push. Time is on my side. Alessia’s my prisoner, here for two years, maybe more. I know she’s turned on by me. Her body responds. So it’s just winning her mind now. Her heart. Bending her will.
And I have her right where I want her.
In my home.
My bed.
I’ll learn what she likes, give it to her. Eventually, she’ll let me in. She’s already so unguarded. So undefended. She’s kind and compassionate; she gives herself easily. Such a perfect creature, inside and out.
She almost makes me reevaluate how I view women.
Almost.
I finally beg off the phone with Victor in the afternoon and leave my office to find her. Make sure she’s eaten lunch and see how it went with Mika.
I hear a screech from her at the front door and go running.
Blyat, no.
The door stands open and one of my soldiers is wrestling her back from it. I stride swiftly over. Alessia’s cheeks are flushed with ire, eyes flashing. She stomps on my soldier’s foot, elbows his ribs.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” I shout in Russian with the menace of a thousand deaths. Another soldier hangs back, ready to jump in, but too afraid of me to make the wrong move.