Rebecca

The woman in the picture was for Anatoly what Joshua was for me.

I read it because I’d worn that face. Cried those silent tears on the inside where no one would see. And it made me wonder, just who was she and what had happened. I hadn’t been told much about my companion, and the very nature of our agreement didn’t open much to discussion. At least not initiated by me. But the dark-haired beauty, almost opposite of myself, smiled with glowing love filling her expression. And the beautiful little boy looked like a mix between the sweet woman and my stern Master.

Mikhail.

I felt sick to my stomach and listed to the side. My cloak slipped off, and without it wrapped around me, I felt cold. Just as Joshua meant something of great import to me, I had no doubt Mikhail could shatter Anatoly. Why use that as a safe word?

Because that one word can shatter his world.

Jesus, we were walking a tightrope, tiptoeing around our pasts when they were a minefield surrounding us. Was it impossible for us to come together to find the things we needed to get over them? I wasn’t so sure, but I wanted to try. I didn’t want to be trapped in this room wondering when he’d come to me. If he’d come to me. It was his pain. I saw the mirrored agony deep inside myself, and this became more than a simple agreement. I wanted to soothe that hurt, to help him cast it aside, just has his Ownership helped me forget mine.

Left alone in the room, I sank on the thick mattress in the center. It was an unnatural space, mostly filled by the bed, and randomly-placed benches and tables painted glistening black. The bed, off the ground high enough I had to lift myself to sit on it, would be at a good height for sex. It was then I realized, this room wasn’t built on comfort or to lounge, but for sex and functionality. I didn’t think Anatoly would be coming to me for sex tonight. I pulled the edges of my cloak together and curled up on the bed. Maybe tomorrow we could try again.

*

When I awoke, it took me a few minutes to get my bearings in the darkened room.

It was only then I realized there were no windows, and I wasn’t sure what time of day it was. My stomach growled for relief. All I’d eaten was fruit in the last twenty-four-or-so hours, and I needed much more. I got up from the bed and tiptoed my way toward the door, but it swung open when I was just a few steps away.

A plump, elderly woman with salt-and-pepper hair, a black dress, and white apron came into view. “Oh my word, you startled me.”

Ducking my head, I wasn’t sure how to act.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. When Anatoly is in one of his moods, playtime is over. I’m Ramona Evermore, but you can call me Ramona, and I’m certain you’re hungry.”

As if to punctuate her thoughts, my stomach growled.

She laughed. “Thought so. Follow me, and keep the cloak on. Anatoly would have a fit if anyone else saw you naked.”

Wondering if Anatoly was interested in wanting me any longer, I followed Ramona out of the room. Through a multitude of open windows, bright sunlight and a stiff breeze filtered through the house, allowing me my first real glimpse of it. There was not a stitch of carpet in the home, just hardwood floors throughout. I wondered how the wood was so warm under my feet in the refreshing breeze. The ornate door across from my room had a light underneath, and I could hear muttering, but Ramona didn’t stop, forcing me to quicken my steps to keep up. When we reached the foyer, the large painting from the evening before was gone.

“This hallway maintains Anatoly’s wing of the house. If we’d gone back the other way, that leads to a gym, indoor heated pool, and movie theater room. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you getting use of those facilities, and you are allowed to wear clothing in the gym area. In preparation of your arrival, signs were place in locations where clothing is allowed, for sanitation purposes,” Ramona explained.

“How long have you worked for … Master?”

“Anatoly. You will only use that word when you speak to him,” she corrected.

“Anatoly.” I’d only said his name in my head, and speaking it out loud curled my insides. His name rolled over my tongue—a dark, warm flavor, just like him.

“I’ve worked for Anatoly since he was a child. I was his nanny. Though, he didn’t have nearly as much money as he has now. I helped his mother watch him when she was at work. The poor dear held three jobs to support him.”

“His father?” I asked, hungry for information.

Ramona was quiet as we passed through an open office, dining room, and living room before reaching a large kitchen. She pointed to the island in the center, and I took a seat on a stool.

“His father was deported back to Russia when Anatoly was very small, and never came back. We don’t know what happened. But Anatoly grew up well, and he made sure his mother and I were well cared for when he created his business.”

“Is his mother still alive?”

“Yes. She lives in Burbank, and he travels often to see her. She wanted a warmer climate.”

Ramona put on oven mitts before she opened a small oven and lifted out a plate heaping with eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes. “I wasn’t sure what you preferred, so I put a bit of everything on it. If you would like something else, I can whip it up for you.”

“No, thank you. This is more than enough.”

I dug into the food, the flavor of vanilla and butter melting over my tongue from the pancakes. “Delicious.”

Ramona smiled, wrinkles pinching around her deep-brown eyes. “You eat hearty. I have always liked to see a woman enjoy her meals, unlike these sticks nowadays who believe a single grape will give them fifty pounds.”

I laughed. “No. My husband …” I trailed off, mortified.

Ramona’s eyes softened. “That’s why he chose you.”

I swallowed. “My husband, Joshua, used to say he loved something to hold on to. I never disliked my rounded curves, but it wasn’t always easy when I was growing up.”

“How long have you been a widow?” Ramona asked.

Scents of syrup and bacon filled the air, and Ramona’s warm expression made it easier to push through. I took a bite of my bacon and chewed.

“It feels like forever, but just a couple of years.”

Ramona nodded. “That’s how I felt when my Lowell died. Time only made missing him sting less.”

Yes, that’s how it felt. I wouldn’t forget Joshua any more than Anatoly would forget the woman and boy in the painting. I cleared my throat, knowing I shouldn’t ask, but helpless not to do so.

“The woman in the picture was his wife and the boy his son?”

“Raven and Mikhail,” Ramona confirmed. “Anatoly was always a boy stuck in technology. He liked that world more, and the minute he got computers in his hands he rarely interacted with those around him. Raven changed that. She lit him up from the inside, helped him find balance in the world, and Mikhail …” Ramona coughed and closed her eyes. “He brightened us all.”

“Joshua and I didn’t have a chance to have children. We tried for a few years, but I had cysts on my ovaries, along with other complications. It didn’t seem like I’d ever have a child. It’s sad that I’ve been cleared now that he’s gone.”

“Maybe God will bless you now. Anatoly has never brought a woman home unless it’s serious,” Ramona added hopefully.

I reminded myself Infidelity wasn’t common knowledge, and Ramona wouldn’t know how I’d come to meet Anatoly. I was sure his bodyguard knew, considering the logistics and he was the one to pick me up, but I didn’t want to expose anything else. So I stopped myself from asking too many questions or answering in a way that would set off alarms.

“Perhaps,” I hedged.

“I see you’ve eaten. I apologize for my lack of care last night.”

I turned at Anatoly’s voice. He stood in the entrance to the kitchen with bare feet, jeans, and a black t-shirt. The casual gear was new on him, and yet it seemed to fit. His dark hair was disheveled, as if he’d run his hands through it over and over. He stalked forward toward me and I sucked in a deep breath, waiting for him to touch me, to command me, anything. His heat pressed me into the counter behind my back, and I stretched against him. The burn was still there, that connection undeniable.

“Did you sleep well, pet?” he asked.

“Yes, Master.”

He stepped closer, and I opened my legs to let him in between. “Good girl. Now, feed me.”

I turned just enough to grab my plate and hold it between us before I speared a piece of syrup-covered pancake.

He shook his head. “Not with your hands.”

I was mindful that Ramona stood in the kitchen with us, but Anatoly’s intense gaze kept me hooked. In his domain, this way of life was acceptable, and Ramona obviously knew his tastes. Still, I felt he burn of embarrassment spread across my cheeks as I put the piece of pancake between my lips, syrup dribbling down my chin.

Anatoly’s gaze zeroed in on the syrup, and he lowered his head. Lust blasted through me as he snaked his tongue up my chin and then sucked the pancake into his mouth. He chewed, pressing our mouths together, and it was all I could do to remain still.

“Delicious as always, Ramona,” he said, but his eyes were on me. “Stay for the remainder of my meal. I don’t think I’ll keep my hands off her otherwise.”

“Of course, Anatoly,” Ramona asked.

He commanded everyone and everything. Placing his hands on either side of me, he caged me in, his musky scent blotting out the food under my nose. I kept feeding him, each piece taunting him to lick my lips. A sliver of bacon forcing him to slide his tongue over my teeth was the final piece. Our lips were our only connection, but I wanted to combust on the seat.

“I should have kissed you in the beginning,” he whispered against my mouth, and sealed our lips together.

He sucked in my exhale and held it captive as he supped at my mouth. Nothing went unused, not his teeth, his tongue, or the very air he breathed. How did he hold me bound by this singular, minute connection between us? His kiss, his teeth sinking into my lower lip and pulling me closer, drove deeper than his cock had. I wanted to pull him closer, to feel his hard body against me, but I couldn’t move. I was frozen, absolutely possessed by his mastery. He turned his head and fit our mouths like puzzle pieces, licking his way around the moist cavern. His tongue conquered, touching everything with a vulgar claim without shame.

And I loved every minute of it.

A flutter to my right only broke my concentration for a second as Ramona left the room, her cheeks ruddy and her eyes averted, but one suck was all it took and I was back. Anatoly’s tongue glided across mine, taunted it, and when I breached his lips with mine, he laughed into my mouth. I attempted to pull my tongue back, but he sucked, hard, and then pinched it between his teeth. That’s what being owned by Anatoly was like. A burn, deep down, and I was helpless to pull back. Even if I could tell him no and pull away, I didn’t want to. He made me weak, and he’d only had me for a few days. What would become of me in a year?

My Master stepped forward once more, sending the plate crashing to the floor, glass shattering, and his body curved around mine. His hard cock threatened my pussy with both pleasure and pain. His chest crushed mine, reminding me softness gave under hardness. The contrast from the lack of touch before to the complete sensations of now left me lightheaded and reeling.

And then he pulled away.

All at once. And it left me cold.

“You did well to keep up pretenses in front of Ramona. She is like a mother to me and expects that having you here means I’ve moved on,” he said.

I blinked, still trapped in his kiss and not sure I followed. “What?”

“From now on, the rules are different. Your days belong to you, and your nights are mine. You will be ready, in your room, when the sun fades, and I will come to you. Submit to everything I need, and that will be all. When the sun is up, you are free to wear clothes as well.”

He spun on his heel and left the room.

“Master!” I called, but he kept going.

The woman in the painting may have died, but she was still living in these walls.