I move in and kiss her again, my tongue swirling through her mouth, dancing with hers as we revel in one another’s warmth.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her as we break. “I will teach you.”
There’s a long pause between us, and her eyelashes flutter after she steals another glance at my manhood.
“Will you show me tonight?”
12
Cassie
The ride home from Brighton Beach is a whirlwind. Even though the drive there seemed to last forever, the trip back seems to pass by in the blink of an eye. Perhaps this is partly due to the fact that Andrei doesn’t seem to pay any attention to traffic laws and speed limits on the way to the apartment building. The Corvette weaves nimbly in and out of traffic, down side streets and shortcuts, some probably at least borderline illegal, in order to get us home before our heads clear completely.
I wonder if Andrei feels the same way I do right now: all flaming nerves and skipping heart — but then I remember that he has probably done this before. It’s a rather strange thought, that my husband has most likely touched other women before me. He is older than me, older than any of the young men from the congregation or the homeschooling community I previously viewed as contenders for my hand. And although I have not asked him outright, all signs point to the fact that he is not of my faith. Living outside the church, it can only be assumed that he has not been saving himself for marriage as I have.
As handsome as he is, I doubt he’s had any difficulty finding women.
The thought of his hands on another woman’s body, his lips on another woman’s mouth, makes me want to cry. How can I possibly live up to what he has had before me? I don’t know what I’m doing at all. Andrei plans to teach me, but what if I don’t do it right?
These fears rocket through my head, plaguing my thoughts so fully that I block out the ride home. When the Corvette finally stops outside the building, my stomach churns. I want this — I want him — more than anything, but I’m just so scared.
Andrei turns to me, leans over the console, and takes my face in one big, strong hand. He gazes into my eyes for a long moment while I hold my breath in anticipation. Then he dives in to kiss me hard, his tongue pushing into my mouth and his fingers tracing down my cheek, my jaw line, my neck. I feel wanted. It’s a foreign feeling, but I am beginning to crave it intensely.
Wordlessly, he gets out of the car and helps me out, as well, before taking me by the hand and leading me into the building. With a silent urgency we rush to the elevator. As soon as the doors close, he pins me between his body and the wall, kissing me and feeling me up. His manhood presses hot and hard against my hip and I rock into it, eliciting a groan from deep inside his throat.
The elevator doors open with a ding and he scoops me up so that my legs are wrapped around his waist, then carries me down the hall and into our apartment. He rips off my jacket and lets it fall to the floor, his lips never breaking away from mine. Without even flicking on the lights, he swings me around to perch me on the kitchen counter, his hands tugging at my dress to pull it up and over my head. I shiver in the cool air and lean into him self-consciously, not wanting him to look at my nearly-naked physique. I know he’s seen it before, but I still feel so exposed and ashamed to be naked in the presence of a man, even if he is my husband.
But he refuses to indulge my modesty, pushing back to look me up and down, his eyes roving over every inch of me. I am wearing a pair of frilly, pink satin panties and an ivory-colored bra which Andrei selected for me in one of the boutiques we visited earlier. The cups of the bra are sheer, lined with lace and decorated with tiny rosettes, allowing for my rosy pink nipples to show through the fabric.
“Krasivaya,” he murmurs, shaking his head and swiping a hand over his mouth.
“Wh-what does that mean?” I ask, starting to cover myself with my hands.
Andrei catches my wrists and pins them behind my back, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “It means you are beautiful.”
“Am I?” My voice is breathless and soft.
“It is my intention to make you feel as lovely as you look,” he promises, scooping me up again to carry me into the bedroom. He gently sets me down on the bed, smoothing down my hair and kissing me on the forehead.
Standing in front of me, my eyes are drawn to the bulge in the front of his jeans. It looks too enormous, too powerful, straining to break free from its constraints. I wonder what it feels like, what it will feel like inside me.
The very thought makes me wet.
Andrei catches me looking at him and says softly, “This really is your first time, isn’t it?”