As if to prove my point, Cheslav says, “Lower your arms and let your shirt drop to the ground. That is command..”
I hesitate.
“No hesitations, my pet. When I give a command, I expect full and immediate submission. Or else, you will be punished for your insubordination.”
Well, that doesn’t sound good…
My body seizes with a new fear. ”I know it’s three hundred thousand dollars, but I don’t want you to hurt me.”
His expression tightens. “I would never hit or do anything to cause you physical harm, krasotka. Please do not ever worry about that.”
There’s no reason for me to believe that after the way he threatened my brother. Yet with his words, the fear for my physical well-being falls away.
I lower my arms and let the tank fall to the ground.
“Keep your arms down at your sides,” he says before I can raise my hands to cover my small breasts.
I try to keep my face composed. Like I’m waiting for another Queen America candidate to answer her question. But it’s not easy.
Even with my eyes averted, I feel his gaze on my body. And that does something to me. Something that makes my entire body swell with desire.
“Your nipples have become little rocks. Are you cold, pet? Should I turn up the heat?”
I don’t answer.
And of course, he says, “When I ask a question, I expect an immediate answer. Or else, you will be punished for your insubordination.”
This time instead of fear, a little shiver runs down my back at the thought of his punishment. Which is not the response I should be having at all.
“No, I’m not cold,” I mumble, deeply embarrassed.
He chuckles. But the sound of his laughter is not warm at all.
Then he says, “Take off these shorts as well. But this time slowly. And look me in the eye.”
I do as he says, forcing my eyes to look straight into his as I awkwardly remove the pajama shorts. Is this really happening? Am I really stripping naked in front of someone I just met? While looking him in the eye?
Yes, I am.
And instead of feeling sick to my stomach, a dark ache pools in my belly. Like an invisible cord tightening inside of me.
“You are wet. Visibly,” he says when I’m all the way naked. “No, krasotka, do not stop looking at me. That is order.”
An order….
It takes everything I have to keep my eyes on him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Not knowing what else to say.
An almost sympathetic smile forms on his lips. “Do not apologize. Explain this to me. Why are you wet?”
“I don’t know,” I answer.
I’m telling the truth, but he shakes his head. Like he’s the principal, and I’m a lying schoolgirl.
“You do know. But let me clarify my question. Make it easier for you to answer.” His accent is full of sonorous bass, and it ripples over my too aroused body. “Are you standing in front of me, dripping wet because of my command? Or because I am looking at you?”
“Both,” I admit, flushing.
“Both.” He raises his eyebrows, a cool smile tugging at his lips. “Very good, my pet. Come to me now.”
I walk forward and stop in front of him.
Another up and down of my body. Then he spreads his legs and says, “Closer.”
I step closer. And yes, I’m deeply aware that I’m now standing between his legs, dripping wet.
“If you become this aroused by my gaze, what will happen when I touch you?”
Without waiting for my answer, he raises his arms and settles his large hands on my hips.
What will happen? My knees nearly give out, that’s what will happen.
We just met. And this is so, so wrong. But his touch…it makes me feel completely defenseless.
“Tell me what you like,” he commands.
“What I like?” I repeat, not quite understanding.
“How do you like to be touched. Tell me.”
“Oh…um, I don’t usually make requests or anything like that.” I take a deep breath and decide to admit, “The truth is, it’s been a while.”
Like, a really long while.
When I was a cheerleader, I didn’t get a chance to date all that much, especially since I refused to go out with athletes. And when I went back to school, I’d been so focused on my accounting degree, I didn’t have the time or the mental bandwidth to think about relationships. Then I had to get a job and save up for a down payment for a condo.
And just when I finally signed up for BizHarmony, Clem had moved in. So I wasn’t a virgin. But I wasn’t exactly experienced.
I grimace as I wait for his response to my confession. Hopefully, he’ll just get on with it and won’t ask me to clarify.
“How long is a while?” he asks.
Dammit. “Like years,” I answer. “Four or five.”
He nods, his expression lightening up with approval. “So you are free of the STDs then. That is good to know.”