“Stop,” I interrupt before he goes any further down that path. “I love the way you hurt me. Why are you so worried about it? Did someone say something?” It suddenly occurs to me that my roommates may be taking their case elsewhere. To Sasha, maybe? And it got back to him?
“My father—” Pavel stops and scrubs a hand over his soft beard again.
His father. Oh. I’m instantly sick to my stomach.
“He was abusive?” I guess.
Pavel nods. “Yes. He nearly killed us. And finally, I killed him.” Pavel stares at me, his expression awash with shame. A touch of alarm even. This is Pavel bared—the way he’s never let me, or possibly anyone—see him before.
“Oh Pavel.” I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, standing on tiptoe to reach.
He stands rigid for a moment, then one arm comes around me. “You’re not shocked?”
“Of course, I’m shocked, Pavel. You carry a terrible burden. I’m so sorry.”
He lets out a bitter laugh of disbelief. “You’re sorry? For me?”
“Of course. Pavel—” I pull back enough to look him in the eye. “Did you think I’d judge you?”
He cocks his head. “Why wouldn’t you?” He almost sounds suspicious, like I’m tricking him, somehow.
“Pavel, you were protecting your mother, just like you protected me at that convenience store. You did what you had to do. I love you for it.”
“You love me,” he repeats softly, shaking his head. “Superpower.”
“What?”
“You have the capacity of...I don’t know—acceptance… presence—that no one else has. Do you know that? You’re one in a billion, little flower.”
“I love you.”
Pavel groans like a wounded animal and gathers me up against his body. His breath sounds ragged in my hair.
It’s the third time I’ve said I love him tonight. Each time seems to penetrate him deeper. He hasn’t made it wrong, but he hasn’t said it back. After what I just learned, I can be patient. He probably hasn’t known much love in his life.
I’m going to show him it’s not a superpower. It’s something we can both do, together.
11
Pavel
The next morning, I edge my little slave for hours with my mouth between her legs. She weeps, pounding her fists against my shoulders, begging for release. She's such a good subbie, waiting for my permission. Not that I would punish her if she did come.
Not after I broke her last night.
Even if she isn’t, I’m still too raw from it. I’m starting to think there’s no pain I inflict on her that I don’t feel myself. Strange for a stone-cold sadist.
When I’m about to die of need myself, I put her on her knees and forearms and fuck her until she sobs. This time I don’t feel bad about her tears. This is the only kind of crying I want out of her. The too-much-pleasure variety that leaves her wrung-out with bliss for hours afterward.
I wait until my climax comes on hard, then bark, “come,” as I bury myself balls-deep and die a small death. Kayla’s muscles squeeze around my dick, milking it for all its worth, and then I topple us both to our sides as she sobs out her breath.
When I roll her onto her back and wipe her tears from her face, she gives me a dreamy smile. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her.
She lets out a limp moan.
“I managed to get you into the spa today.”
She blinks, obviously trying to come back to reality. Her hair is spread in a golden halo around her head, her face flushed a pretty shade of pink.
“Your first appointment is at one. I need to take care of some business, but I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
Her lips part. “Oh.”
“Yes, Master,” I prompt to head off the line of questioning I sense is about to start up.
“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”
“I’m going to take a quick shower before I go.” I swear to Christ I’m not the kind of guy who talks just to hear himself talk, but Kayla’s vulnerability, especially after a scene, forces me to communicate far more.
“Me too,” she murmurs and sits up.
I take her hand to help her off the bed and lead her into the bathroom where I wash her from head to toe. My soft, pliant slave-doll, who I will avenge like a fucking nightmare today.
I texted Dima when I woke up this morning asking for Ensign’s address, he replied, Wait until noon. Nikolai, Oleg and I are flying out to lend a hand. I’ll text when we land.
I stared at my phone for a moment, trying to identify the unfamiliar feeling swirling in my chest. Gratitude. I knew my bratva brothers had my back in business, but this thing with Kayla has nothing to do with them. Nothing at all. They’ve never even met her, and yet three of them dropped everything to back me up on this.