Page 66 of The Tsar's Obsession
"What’s that large chain you have there, Cyril?" My dad squinted and looked at Kirill’s oversized gold chain that slightly peeked out of his shirt. Kirill took out his Orthodox cross, and my dad assessed it. "What a beautiful piece of jewelry! Mia was also baptized in a Russian Orthodox Church." Kirill whirled around to look at me, his eyes wide and just as stunned as mine.
"What are you talking about? I was baptized at the Holy Cross church where Mom used to sing." I retorted, fully confused at my dad’s words and smile.
"No, it's now the Holy Cross Catholic Church, but it used to be a Russian Orthodox Church when your mom sang there. The Russian church moved, and this one moved in. You didn't know you were baptized in an Orthodox Church, sweetheart?" He looked at me so innocently.
I wasn’t prepared for the revelation and wondered how my dad forgot to mention this important detail! My mom passed away from childbirth complications a week after I was born—that’s what he had told me. He also mentioned that she wanted to have mebaptized as soon as possible, that she felt something was wrong, but he left out the Orthodox part.
This was divine intervention; I was sure of it. I was Orthodox, just like Kirill, and religion had such an important place in his life.
"Wow, look at that!" Kirill turned to me with a wide grin and slapped his knees. His face glowing, his smile radiated happiness and joy, and it was both cute and strange to see him so exceptionally delighted for once.
The empty conversation dragged on, and I took the chance to sneak Kirill upstairs to my old room. The only boy who would ever have that privilege. Light pink walls accosted my vision as soon as we stepped in, nostalgia and dread settling somewhere inside me at all the high school memories.
I often wondered why my father did nothing with the room, just preserved it like a shrine. The vanity mirror was still plastered with high school photos, but all the lip gloss and makeup were gone.
“Wow.” Kirill looked extremely out of place in my girlish room, his huge body making the whole thing look smaller. He leaned in to look at the pictures tucked into a corner of the mirror and meticulously studied them. “Is that…Viv?!” he asked, astounded, and turned to me with the goofiest expression on his face.
“Yeah!” I fought my laughter. “She dyed her hair platinum blonde in our senior year because she was obsessed with some jock and thought he would like it.” Viv always lived her life to the fullest. I loved her for it.
“What’s a jock?” Kirill asked while he continued his perusal of my room, and I was momentarily taken aback by that question. Of course, he probably never learned that word. I explained as best as I could, but he had another question once he approached my wall of posters.
“And who are all these boys on the wall?”
“You jealous of mypast obsessions?”
“They look nothing like the man you love.” He assessed Kurt Cobain’s photo and then moved on to posters of Wes Scantlin and Travis Barker. There were also posters of Blink-182, Good Charlotte, and The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Kirill studied the images for a few seconds and then turned to me and asked, “But it looks like you always liked tattooed bad boys, huh?”
“Uh-huh. I was just preparing myself for the ultimate bad boy to come into my life. And come in my mouth, too.” I plopped down on the edge of my bed, my eyes spelling out pure innocence as I whispered the words.
His gaze darkened, and he took a small step closer, grabbing my jaw with his large fingers. “How many boys did you bring up here?” Kirill furrowed his eyebrows, tightening his grip, and eyeing my hands sliding up his thighs. He towered over me like usual, and I loved being in this position.
“You’re the first one. I was a virgin when I kissed you,” I whispered.
I was never allowed to bring boys over to my room; my dad had always been very strict. And all that overprotection backfired on him with a vengeance because his only daughter was ardently and hopelessly in love with a dangerous criminal.
“Such a good girl,” Kirill drawled, his fingers trailing into my hair. He tugged on it slightly, just the way I liked it, just enough to make me instantly compliant. He leaned in, the scent of him sending a hot pulse right between my legs. “So, when did you turn into such a fucking filthy slut?”
His knees hit the floor, and he pulled me in, his hot tongue licking up my neck. “When you corrupted my soul,” I confessed, my fingers already working to unbuckle his belt. “Worked like fucking dark magic.” Anticipation coursed through me, the forbidden nature of our actions sending my desire into overdrive.
I shoved my hand into his boxer briefs and grasped his thick, long, fucking beautiful cock. Damn, I was addicted.
“Your poor father is right downstairs,” he reprimanded and pulledme down onto my knees. “And has no idea who’s fucking his daughter.”
My sweater flew off, and Kirill wasted no time, pulling up my shirt and yanking down my bra. “Uh huh, in fact, they’re all right beneath us,” I moaned when his hot tongue caressed my nipple. “So you’re going to have to be…gentle,” I teased, stroking his cock. “You think you can do that?”
My pants already discarded, I was left in my Christmas socks, pink thong, and t-shirt, not covering anything. If anyone discovered us, there would be no recovering from this. Alas, I didn’t fucking care. I became daring, unafraid, and wanted to push the envelope.
Hungrily, I pulled down his pants, but before I had a chance to figure out what I wanted to do, I was already pushed down onto the floor, Kirill’s hand sliding toward my neck. He applied slight pressure, that sweet, lovely sensation of belonging, of giving all of myself to him.
“Fuck, baby, you look so good like this,” he praised while he slid inside me, his piercing grazing the side of my soaking wet walls.
I wasaddictedto having sex with Kirill. His dick was goddamn perfect. Thick, long, and that damn piercing was like a cherry on top. It almost looked like one too, right on the tip, on his foreskin. Both concepts took getting used to at first. The piercing guaranteed enhanced pleasure every time he slipped inside me.
He thrust in so hard, my entire body jolted from the force. A tiny moan slipped out, and his hand landed right on my mouth, his weight pinning me down within a second.
“You’re going to keep your mouth shut, right, sunshine?” He pounded into me, so fast and rough, stretching me just like the first time, sending my eyes rolling into the back of my head. “Like the good girl that you are…you’re going to obey.” Kirill’s grip tightened around my neck, his lips on mine, absorbing every little whimper.
Faster, harder, just like I wanted, as if this would be the last time he fucked me—he drove in and out, plunging my mind intoa haze. I bit into his neck—hard—and dug my nails into his hand, wanting to leave a mark.
