THE SOLDIER

Kayla

After a morning of torturing my body in the best possible way, Pavel tries to book a spa appointment for me at the Four Seasons.

“I’m sorry, but we book weeks in advance, there’s simply nothing available,” I hear the spa attendant tell him over the hotel phone.

“That’s okay, I’m good.” I sidle up to him. “Feeling pretty relaxed already,” I murmur.

He hangs up and loops an arm around me. “What should we do?”

I have this strong urge to get us out of the hotel room. I think that’s why I wanted to walk with him to the convenience store last night. All of our interactions are in the bedroom or BDSM club, which is amazing. But I want more. Or I want to find out if there’s the possibility for more.

I should be running for the hills after what I saw last night. Seeing what Pavel’s capable of, being reminded that the world he lives in is far, far different from mine, should have been the clincher. It should have driven home the idea that I shouldn’t pursue more from this guy. We are just sex, and I should be happy with that.

But my ambitious little heart won’t take no for an answer. I have the need to be claimed fully by him. I’ll never forget how spectacularly freeing it felt at Black Light when he scooped me up and told me I belonged to him now.

I want to belong to him. I like belonging to him.

And I know I do right now in the master-slave fantasy sense, but I want it in the real-life sense, too. Or, at least I think I do.

Maybe that’s plain nuts.

“Why don’t I show you L. A.?” I suggest then wince a little, already anticipating his rejection of the idea. In our relationship, I don’t drive. He does.

But he blinks and shrugs. “Sure. I didn’t rent a car this time, but we could ride share somewhere.”

“I have my car. I mean, it’s not fancy, but we could take it. You could drive, if you want,” I add hastily.

The corners of his lips tick up. “Yeah, okay. I don’t need fancy.”

“No?” I move to my suitcase to grab something to wear-Pavel’s kept me naked all morning, even after my shower.

Pavel makes a soft scoffing sound. “You must know I don’t come from money, Kayla.”

I put on my bra and a long-sleeved turquoise shirt that makes my boobs look great. “I actually don’t know much about you at all, Master.” I use the honorific Master to keep it from sounding like a complaint, which it really is.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

He must hear it for what it is because as I start to put on my panties, he looks over and demands, “Why are you wearing panties?”

I pull them on anyway, feeling impish. “For protection. Because my master likes to spank me far too much.” I giggle and sidle away from him when he advances.

“Sassy. I like it when you’re naughty.” I think I expect him to chase, but he takes his time following me, forcing me to stop and wait for him to arrive. His hands settle on my hips. “Take them off.”

I lift my chin, a gleeful challenge in my eyes.

Pavel considers me. For the thousandth time, I wish he wasn’t so darn hard to read. I can’t even tell if he’s amused by my antics or annoyed. “You want me to chase you and take them off, myself, don’t you?”

I keep playing, slipping out of his grasp with a breathy laugh.

“I like it better when you obey.”

I freeze. I was up for earning a little punishment, getting myself in trouble, but not for his dissatisfaction with me. “Sorry, Master.” I move to take them back off.

Pavel follows me. “Nyet, that’s not true. I like you sassy, too.” He manacles my wrists and yanks me up against his chest.

My breath leaves me, and I look up at his harsh, handsome face, thrilled he’s finally getting playful. He slowly twists my arms behind my back, turning me to face the bed. “Is this what you wanted, blossom?” he whispers in my ear. “To be forced?”

“Yes.”

He pushes my torso down and smacks my bare ass. “I don’t think I can do pretend non-consent.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t move, just holds me in the position, suspended in his refusal. “It’s not that I don’t like it, Kayla.” It feels like an admission. A confession. Like I’m hearing something real, maybe for the first time. “I do.” He rubs away the sting the single spank left. “I just… Fuck. I like it way too much.”

I’m trembling, and not from the scene, for once. Because of the rawness of his confession. Is this why he always holds back? He’s afraid of his own dark desires?

“I trust you,” I tell him.

He makes a dissenting sound in his throat.

“I have a safe word. I would use it if I wanted.” I’m new to this world, but Pavel’s been a perfect partner. He reads me. He’s careful. He pays attention.

He strokes my ass, circling it. He’s silent for what feels like forever, then he finally says, “You’re too trusting.”

For some reason, that offends me. I love submitting to Pavel, letting him run the show completely, making all the decisions for us. But this feels like he’s criticizing my submission-the one thing I bring to this very limited relationship.

“Screw you,” I snap.

Pavel proves my judgement is perfectly sound by immediately releasing my wrists and stepping back.

I straighten and whirl to face him, heat flushing my cheeks. His brows are down, confusion playing over his features.

“Don’t question the one thing I bring to this… arrangement.” I can’t even bring myself to call it a relationship.

He takes another step back and holds his hands up in surrender. “Wait-the one thing? Fuck that.”