Her Russian Brute: 50 Loving States, Idaho (11 page)

“
A
re
you done with your drink?”

Sola quickly moved her shoulder away so she was no longer touching the wall o’ Ivan. But she could still feel him behind her. So solid and unforgiving, that if not for the smell of vodka and soap wafting off him, she might have thought an actual wall had suddenly sprouted up behind her rather than a man.

“Y-yes,” she answered. “I’m just leaving now.”

Two large arms extended from the wall behind her, and hands appeared on either side of her body, resting on the top of the cabinet. He still wasn’t touching her, but he’d effectively boxed her in with nowhere to go. And she was too scared to turn around.

“Tell me, Sola, do you like chocolate?”

“What?” she asked. Squeaked, really.

“I believe you heard my question the first time.”

“Yeah, sure I like chocolate,” she admitted. “But why are you asking?”

“I like chocolate, too,” he said, his hot breath fanning her neck. “Ever since I was a small child, I have considered chocolate a treat. So I asked Hannah to buy some bars for me every few weeks and leave them in one of the kitchen cabinets. But lately, I have noticed something. You see, my chocolate has been steadily disappearing ever since you arrived. When I went to have some tonight, I discovered the last bar was gone. Someone ate all my chocolate. Someone who is not me. Was that someone you, Sola?”

She gulped, remembering the chocolate she’d pretty much binge-eaten along with a hastily prepared turkey sandwich.

“I guess,” she answered.

“You guess.” He let a beat pass. A beat during which she could almost feel his body pulsing behind hers. Even though he still hadn’t touched her. “You like this word ‘guess,’ I am finding, so I will
guess
a few things now. You say the last time you slept walked, you binged on ice cream because you were on a diet. I am
guessing
now—based on my vanished chocolate and your ice cream binges—that you like sweet things. And when you sleep walk, you do not do silly things like clean the house or go for drive in the car, like some stories I have heard. No, Sola…”

His nose, just the tip, touched the back of her neck, but it might as well have been his entire hand for the chain reaction it set off in her body. A maelstrom of erotic sensation suddenly erupted within her. Swelling her breast, and making every nerve cell beneath her skin tingle with anticipation.

“…I am
guessing
when you sleep walk, you do the things you want to do. The things you deny yourself when you are awake.”

Ugh, she’d never thought of it that way before, but scanning through her past episodes, she could now see he was right. There’d been so many diet-destroying nights that she’d finally stopped dieting altogether. And then there were those times when she’d finally sat down to watch TV after a busy week at school only to discover that someone—very likely her sleep walking self—had caught up on all her favorite shows and then erased them from the DVR. Crazy but true.

And though she didn’t share any of this out loud, Ivan seemed to read her thoughts, scraping his lips against the back of her neck as he said, “I am big below, I know. Too big for you not to feel the effects of having me inside you next morning…” His Russian accent had become thicker, darker. “When you wake up with sore pussy, what did you think made it this way?”

His voice was so seductively insistent, it felt to Sola like he was dragging the truth out of her.

“I thought I’d touched myself too hard,” she confessed breathlessly, fighting the urge to do it again now. To press her fingers into the throbbing place between her legs.

A dark chuckle erupted hot on her neck, as if no other answer could have pleased him more. And then there was no question about his body touching hers. He leaned over her, covering her from behind and settling a very large erection against the small of her back.

Yet his voice remained casual as he asked, “Does this happen to you often, Sola? You wake up with sore pussy, because you have been masturbating in your sleep? Finally letting your body have what it really wants?”

She bit her lip, unable to answer. Her pussy. Her poor pussy. As sore as it had been this morning, it was throbbing with raw need now. A bittersweet ache building up inside her with every rock of his fully clothed body against hers.

“Sometimes,” she panted.

“So you like to do this? You like to touch yourself?”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. It was too dangerous, she knew.

But her silence only ratcheted up the tension between them.

“I am going to touch you now, Sola,” he announced into the back of her neck. “Now that you’ve had something to drink, I am going to fuck you with my fingers. And so there will be no more misunderstanding between us, I will make the rules for tonight very simple. I will do what I want to your body, and if you don’t want me to do this thing, you will tell me to stop. Do you understand?”

Her lips clamped together, not knowing what to say. Not knowing how to respond. Unable to think beyond the large muscled body crowding her and covering her back.

And then it was too late to talk. His hand was at the front of her. Invading the band of her joggers and slipping between her legs.

A few exploratory dips and then… “I see you are already very, very wet, Sola. I
guess
I will keep going.”

He was right. She could feel herself slick with need, and becoming slicker by the second as he worked her with his hand.

“No…” she moaned, unable to believe what her body was doing, how it was responding to him.

“Word I look for is ‘stop,’” came his response against her neck. Meanwhile, his large hand kept working her sex, stoking that fiery ache.

One of his hands was inside her, and she could sense the other behind her. He’d pulled his hard shaft off her back and was now clasping it, rubbing it, as if preparing for something more.

No, no, they couldn’t…

Sola opened her mouth to tell him to stop. Really she did. But when she tried to speak, his hand pressed down on her button, and all that came out was a long moan.

She didn’t remember anything. Not one thing that had passed between them during her episodes. But her body seemed to remember everything. And she seemed incapable of making any protest, until he suddenly pulled away. That was when she found herself mewing in distress, because he’d left her sex empty and her back cold.

“Patience, Sola. I am putting on condom,” he informed her from another part of the room. He wasn’t laughing, but she could clearly hear wicked amusement in his voice. “Then I’ll give you another chance to tell me to stop.”

He was a man of his word. Seconds later, he was back behind her. Yanking down her joggers and panties with his hands, and then pushing into her with his…

Sola’s whole body went tight, and she found herself gagging with shock. The size of him, the feel of having something that much larger—so much larger than Scott—inside her most intimate space. She whimpered, not knowing what to do, how to feel…

Then his mouth was at her ear: “Tell me to stop, Sola,” he said as he began slowly rocking into her. “Tell me to stop.”

With each command, his Russian accent became thicker and thicker. “Tell me to stop,” he said into her neck, as if he were just as ashamed of his actions as she was of hers. “Do not let me believe again. Tell me I am wrong. Tell me to stop.”

But she couldn’t. In fact, when she was finally able to form words, they were the very opposite of the ones he’d requested.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned. “Please keep going.”

This was so wrong. So wrong. And she knew better. But he was right. She’d been denying her waking self for nearly two weeks now, and this felt like nothing less than chocolate. Like finally giving into what she really wanted, after years of cold pizza sex with Scott.

Plus, she was too close to stop. She could feel something big and all-consuming coming straight at her, like a sex-fueled freight train. And instead of telling him to stop, she reached back, clawing at his thighs as she begged him, “Don’t stop. Oh God, don’t stop!”

She could feel his muscles working underneath her desperate hand as he drove into her. His thighs were so large, her hand didn’t even cover half of it.

But she was only able to enjoy touching him for a short while. As soon as that last “don’t stop” fell from her lips, he snatched her hand away and planted it under his much larger one on the cabinet.

The bottles rattled in front of her as he drove into her, hard and relentless. Not stopping. Refusing to stop, until…

She flew apart. Molecules split inside her, and at least six different arias ripped apart her mind at all once.

She’d never come like this. With Scott. With her hand. With a vibrator. Never in her life would she have imagined something this amazing could happen in her own body.

For eons on end, there was nothing except pleasure, wave after wave of hot light washing over her.

And then she heard him behind her. Grunting hard, his large hand moving to the top of her shoulder, bracing her as his strokes switched from grinding to pounding. Pounding faster and faster until he suddenly sank into the back of her pussy with a yell. She felt his cock jerk hard, right before he emptied into the condom.

He sagged against her then in a rather funny way. Leaning into her, but not giving her all his weight. It took Sola a few moments to realize he was hugging her from behind, cradling her with a tenderness she wouldn’t have guessed he possessed.

Which was why it gave her such a jolt when he finally spoke. Thick Russian accent gone, words clear and solemn as he informed her with no guessing whatsoever, “I’m going to take you up to my room, and I’m going to fuck you again, Sola. I’m going to keep you there all night and I’m not going to let you out of my bed until I’ve done everything you’ve only been dreaming about when you are awake. Tell me to stop. This is your last chance. Tell me to stop.”

How?
She wondered in a daze. How could her core be throbbing with need again, aching for him again? So soon after reaching the best orgasm of her life? And how could she tell this large man no?

Her lack of response seemed to be enough for him. The next thing she knew, he was swinging her into his arms, and carrying her out of the study, away from the bar, and into the dark promise of a night without any sleep.

S
ola woke
the next morning without her glasses…and without any problem recalling what had happened the night before.

In fact her seriously worked over body gave tender protest as she sat up in what turned out to be her captor’s very large bed. And though she’d woken up in an unfamiliar room, she easily found her glasses on the nightstand, right where Ivan had put them before angling his head to give her their first waking kiss—at least the first one she hadn’t shoved away from in shock.

Yes, she knew for certain what had happened last night, but she still couldn’t believe what she’d done with Ivan while fully awake…what she let him do to her…how she’d screamed…oh, God, how she’d
begged
the night before.

No, now in the cold light of morning—no, scratch that. Afternoon. It was
afternoon
. Already.

She groaned again. Thinking of what she’d done. What she’d have to do now to undo what had happened last night.

Tell me to stop
, he’d said. Teasing her all night long.

She should have told him stop last night. Today she definitely would.

After a quick shower and change into yet another set of joggers and t-shirt, Sola did something she’d never done before. She went looking for Ivan Rustanov.

It felt a lot like yesterday’s liquor search, but this time it only took three doors to find what she was looking for. He wasn’t in the swimming pool or in his study. But yes, here he was, in the gym.

He was in a pair of fighting shorts, punching and kicking an oblong red bag with a deftness she’d never seen anyone display outside of fighting films.

The sight of him like this was completely mesmerizing, and for a moment, all she could do was watch the interplay of muscles rolling under his thick arms and broad shoulder blades as he laid into the bag.

A damp heat erupted between her legs as she watched him, warming her core…making her forget for a moment the reason she’d come looking for him in the first place. To tell him last night had been a mistake. One they couldn’t ever repeat, because…

Why was that again, exactly?
She struggled to remember her reasons as she crooked her head to the side and watched him work.

But just as she was about to settle down into a full-on stare fest, he came to a sudden stop, head whipping around like an animal that had just scented another in its territory.

“Hi,” she squeaked. “Sorry for interrupting. I just wanted to—”

“Are you okay?” he demanded, voice low and rough as he closed the distance between them, not stopping until he was towering over her, all muscle and sweat.

“I’m fine,” she answered, a little taken aback by his urgent tone. “A little sore, but that’s not why I—”

He cut her off with a bout of language so coarse, she could only assume he was cursing in Russian. “I knew I was too rough with you last night,” he finally said, in English. “I should have held back. You are so small. I should have controlled myself better.”

“No, I’m fine. I promise,” she answered, a little weirded out to be reassuring him that the best sex of her life hadn’t damaged her…right before she told him why they could never have sex like that again.

Ivan didn’t look like he believed her. His light blue eyes gave her another worried scan, and she knew how she must appear to him. In fact, she’d been a little taken aback by the girls-gone-wild look she was sporting when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror earlier. Tousled hair, dark circles under her eyes, lips still swollen from his demanding kisses.

That was the last thing she remembered from last night. Falling asleep with him kissing her, still embedded inside her sex, less hard than he’d been before he’d emptied into the fifth condom of the night, but still nowhere close to being soft.

Her cheeks burned with the memory, and her ears rang with all the things he’d said to her. How beautiful she was, how he’d wanted this from the first moment he’d seen her.
“Tell me to stop, Sola,”
over and over again as he came into four more condoms.

Her eyes couldn’t help but drift down his chest, covered in sweat from all that punching and kicking, only to rise when she heard him chuckle wickedly.

“Oh, I see….” he said.

He moved forward, and she stepped back, only to find she’d placed herself right up against a nearby wall.

Very deliberately, Ivan put one hand on either side of her head and leaned in, lips hovering above but not quite touching hers as he said, “You come to find me for different reason.”

His accent had gone thick again, his voice husky with teasing amusement.

Oh, God, he was bad. So bad. Like the walking, talking personification of the term “bad boy.” But having him this close made her body throb. Made her want things she really shouldn’t want. Again.

“No,” she barely managed to squeeze out, flattening her hands against his chest. “We can’t. I mean, we shouldn’t. Ever again.”

He met her resistance with a hooded look, his crystal blue eyes studying her lazily, even as he said in a hard tone, “Sola, do not play this game with me. You were awake last night. All last night. You let me in, and now you are trying to kick me out? Why?”

“Because last night was a mistake,” she admitted. “A mistake I can’t repeat.”

He continued to study her so intently that Sola felt trapped, not just by his body, but also by his intense blue gaze. “You were not born here, but I can see you are a very American-style girl. You try to follow the rules and deny yourself all the time. Ice cream. Pleasure. Me…”

He cupped a large hand around the back of her neck, stroking the side of her face with his thumb as he asked, “Why is this, Sola? Why do you pretend you do not want me after spending whole night in my bed? You are a surprising woman, but this is not kind of surprise I like. I will not be toyed with, Sola. Not after last night.”

“I’m not…” she stopped, finding it hard to breathe, much less form coherent sentences with him so close. “I’m not trying to tease you.”

“Then why do you try to make me believe you do not want me?” he asked, his voice low and fierce. “Why do you keep running, even after I have you?”

“Because I want you, but I don’t
want
to want you,” she admitted, looking up to meet his angry and confused blue gaze. “I shouldn’t want a guy like you.”

“A guy like me.” He seemed to be sampling her words in his mouth and not liking their taste. “What kind of man do you believe me to be, Sola?”

“Dangerous,” she answered frankly. “Last night you made me want things, but now, in the light of day…”

“…you can see my face.”

“No! Look…I really don’t care about your face,” she reminded him, voice weary. “But I
do
care about your heart. You’re not a nice guy, and I…don’t want to be with someone else like that again.”

“The last guy you were with—he was not nice guy.” An observation, not a question, and against all possibility his voice had become even harder, his eyes even more intense in their demand for answers.

She shifted inside his wall trap, hating how awkward it felt. That he wouldn’t let this go, even though he’d already gotten what he wanted from her last night. Total surrender. Wasn’t that enough?

“Anyway…” She looked to the side, no longer able to bear the weight of his angry stare. “You told me to tell you when to stop, and I’m telling you now. Stop.”

For a moment he said nothing. Just continued to lean over her, silent and still as a marble statue.

“You are right,” he said after a long while. “I am dangerous man. Bad man. I put your teacher in cage. And I made you stay here when I should have let you go. For that I am sorry.”

Sola’s heart stopped. The last thing she’d expected to come out of this conversation was a sincere apology. “Th-thank you for saying that,” she said.

“No, do not thank me, Sola. Tell me to stop again.”

She stared at him, not understanding.

“
Tell me to stop
, Sola,” he repeated, his voice little more than a gravelly command.

“Stop?” she said tentatively, doing as he asked but feeling terribly confused.

His response came swiftly. A sneered, “
Nyet
!” And in the next moment, his lips crashed down on hers.

It was like being thrown into an emotional tornado. Around and around went her feelings: surprise and wrong and confused and wrong and hot and wrong and sweaty and wrong and hot…sweaty…Ivan. Nothing but Ivan.

Then he began stripping off her clothes as he told her in a rush, “I never promised you a yes for your stop. The time for asking me to stop was before I met you, Sola, and now…now is too late…too late…”

He had her naked in an instant, and he fell to his knees, locking his lips over her pussy. Her sex, so tender this morning, flamed anew with the first touch of his mouth, the lips of her mound tightening as he lapped at her with his tongue.

The first orgasm came quickly and violently, tossing her over a cliff without a care for anything she’d said before.

“No, I will
not
stop,” Ivan informed her as he stood and wiped her essence off his mouth with the back of his hand. “I cannot stop. I am past stopping.”

She shook her head, heart constricting at his words—only to be cut off when he lifted her off her feet, spreading her legs wide around his waist as he pinned her to the wall.

“Do not tell me to stop. Do not tell me to stop… ”

His voice was little more than a guttural whisper now, desperate and unhinged as his mouth moved over her neck, her bare shoulders, her chin, all the while repeating, “Do not tell me to stop…”

She wanted to push him away. Knew she should try again to explain in a calm voice why this was such a bad idea…and she would have if he hadn’t captured her lips again, devouring all her sensible words and thoughts before she could get them out.

“I need inside you,” he said, his accent raw and low as he reached down between them and pulled himself out of his fighting shorts.

And instead of protesting as she should have, she opened her legs wider, groaning when he lifted her up and then oh-so-slowly pushed himself into her. Inch by excruciating inch.

“More,” she moaned into his lips. “Need more.”

“I do not want to hurt you, Sola,” he answered, as he continued to gradually ease himself in. “As much as I want inside of you, I will not hurt you.”

But he was hurting her. Her body ached for him now. Ached so bad, his care felt like the worst, most painful teasing. But then, finally, he was all the way inside. Their eyes locked, and he once again brought his large hand up, this time placing it alongside of her face, his thumb wiping away tears she didn’t know had fallen from her eyes.

Because she wanted him. Because she didn’t want him to stop. Because she couldn’t make herself stop.

He took her against the wall, his strokes slow and demanding, as the scent of their combined sexes filled the room. He took his time with her, making her slicker and slicker, using her desire to go in deeper and deeper.

“I do not want to hurt you,” he said again. It was more a declaration than an explanation. “All I have wanted to do is hurt people for so long, but not you, Sola, not you…”

He’d somehow taken full command of not just her body, but her mind. How else to explain what happened next? The way she exploded into stars, glowing with the most romantic opera music as her body milked and milked Ivan’s dick.

How else to explain the fierce tug on her heart when he whispered into her afterglow, “No, Sola, I will not stop. I do not ever want to stop. I cannot…I cannot…”

He cut himself off, his body going tight as he flooded into her.

How else to explain their failure to realize he wasn’t wearing a condom, until her pussy was drenched with the flood he’d released in her.

“I’m on the pill,” she whispered when they were back in his bed. Lying side by side, both exhausted and dazed by what had taken place downstairs. “But the hookers…”

“Girls my cousins sent here. I never touched them,” he answered before she could continue. “I have not touched a woman in years. I am clean.”

“Why would your cousins send you hookers?” she asked.

“Because before the accident, this is what I would have wanted. The fight or the fuck. And I cannot fight anymore…”

“Because it would be too dangerous with your face?”

“Because if I started punching another man, I would not stop. I no longer have it in me to fight only for fun and money as I used to. It would be too dangerous for others if I went back. Even my cousin Boris believes this.”

Sola swallowed, processing what he’d just told her. Knowing she should leave it at that, but having to ask, “And your face? Do you mind telling me how it happened?”

There was a long moment of silence. So long, she thought maybe he’d fallen asleep.

But then he told her a story…one that filled her heart with sadness. The story of a spoiled fighter who cared nothing for anyone but himself…until his parents and sister died in a car bombing. One he’d narrowly escaped. The story of how that fighter became a killer, for reasons even Sola could easily understand.

“When I was killing, I felt like I had purpose,” he told her in the shadows of his room. “But without the killing, I only felt dead. I could not abide those girls my cousins sent. Did not touch them, because I was too dead inside. I have not done anything like that since coming here to live. Have not wanted any woman until you showed up like big surprise.”

The story of how he became a recluse who lived far from his homeland in the mountains of Idaho, sat between them in the darkening room for a long while after. Sola didn’t know how to respond, and Ivan seemed to be done talking.

But then Sola suddenly found herself sharing the story she’d only ever told Brian, Eddie, and Anitra. Everyone else, including Scott, thought her father died of an infection. Which was technically true. But now she told Ivan everything Scott didn’t know.

I
van lay
there in the dark with Sola, not touching her, but listening to the story she told about her life from before.

About how her father had been adrift and depressed after her mother died in an accident at the factory where they both worked in Guatemala. The factory fired him, perhaps in an effort to distance themselves as far from the tragedy as possible, and her father was suddenly out of a job and without legal recourse. He was unable to find work due to his cleft palate. So he packed up his young daughter and took her on a harrowing trip up north.
They fix people like you up there
, he’d been told by friends who knew about such things.