Page 24 of For a Price

When seconds go by and I haven’t moved, the Russian clenches his hand around my upper arm and pulls me forward.

“I said get in, devochka. Bath time.”

“I can bathe myself. I’ve been doing it for twenty plus years.”

“You would do well, devochka, to forget your life before now. Everything will be different. Get in.”

I look from him to the frothy clawfoot bathtub in front of me. Little wisps of steam rise from the hot pool of water, so inviting given that I’m standing naked and shivering a few feet away.

…do I even have a choice at this point?

He holds onto my hand as I peel away the arm barred across my chest and use it to balance myself. Heat sheaths my body from all angles as I sink deep into the tub and then release a soft breath.

I’d be a liar if I said it doesn’t feel good.

Soothing after everything I’ve been through.

Roman sits on the ledge of the tub. “Do you like how it feels?”

“It feels great. It would feel even better if I were alone.”

“Pochemu ty takoy zastenchivyy?*?”

“Why do you keep speaking to me in a language I don’t understand?”

“You are shy. It must be an American hang up,” he translates, a hint of humor in his rough voice. He drags his fingers across the surface of the water, creating a ripple effect. “You can see me naked if you’d like, devochka. I would be more than happy to show you.”

“No!” I squeak, my cheeks warming up. “Not necessary!”

Yes. Yes, necessary! I’m betting all that BDE isn’t for nothing…

“You’ll have to get used to being like this, devochka,” he says. He reaches over and brushes a stray lavender curl from my brow. “I like to see my pets as they are. Nothing in between.”

“I’m not your pet.”

“The sooner you accept you are mine, the easier things will be for you.”

“Yours…” I repeat. “In what way?”

He grips my chin and brings my face closer to his. So close I have no choice but to look up into his intense eyes. “In every way, devochka. You will soon see.”

…does that mean he’s going to…? We’re going to…?

I squash the inappropriate thought and refocus on bathing. The quicker I get this over with, hopefully the quicker I’ll receive some clothes. My fingers reach for the spongy loofah that rests in a caddy attached to the tub.

Suds soak the loofah once I dunk it in the water and then begin gently scrubbing it against my skin.

The Russian watches on as if I’m fascinating. Seeing me bathe myself is some form of entertainment.

The silence is maddening for me. His stare is intimidating.

My nakedness makes me painfully self-conscious. But my body betrays me. My nipples pull tight,noticeablyerect, and as I dip the loofah between my thighs, I’m aware of the throbbing in my pussy.

There’s something about the rapt stare he’s giving me that turns me on while also making me acutely aware of how vulnerable I am right now.

I decide to fill up the space with conversation. Topics ofmychoosing.

“So, Roman,” I say, clearing my throat, “where am I?”

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