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He rubbed his temples hoping to eliminate the insistent ache in his skull. He sighed as he eyed the papers spread across the deep mahogany desk: ledgers, account summaries, budget reviews, letters requesting invitations, and services, and whatnot. Frankly, he should just take advantage of Zoya’s willing disposition whenever it’s something concerning him and have her sort through it.
Aleksander leaned back in his chair, the wood groaning softly as he did. The embers in the fireplace across the room burned low, and the moans and screams had already died down in the early hours of the morning, yet nothing could erase the scent of opium permeating through the halls.
The brothel ran like a well oiled machine, but Aleksander knew that without a clock keeper to care for the gears and wind the contraption, all would fall apart. Still, he contemplated getting up, allowing himself a glass of whiskey on the cushions facing the fireplace, calling for a tray of food and letting himself rest for an hour or two. His reverie was promptly broken by a sharp knock at the door.
“Ivan. Come in,” he called, straightening in his seat.
The man had always been taller than him, even in childhood. Mean looking and gruff, ever so trusting of Aleksander and the most reliable worker he had, which is why he was head of security of the finest brothel in the city.
Ivan slipped in and closed the door behind him. Aleksander resisted the urge to sigh.
“If this is about Mr. Lantsov’s behaviour, either find him a girl that will put up with it or have him thrown out. I don’t care what kind of influence and money he has, I have enough problems as it is.” He said, turning back to the paperwork.
“It’s not that Sir,” Ivan said, clasping his hands behind his back. “There’s a girl here asking to speak with the establishment’s owner.”
He glanced up to Ivan.
“Send her in.” He collected the papers into one neat pile, tapping them against the wood before placing them to the side face down while Ivan slipped away to fetch the girl.
Soon enough the same brisk knock and Ivan was opening the door, holding it wide for the girl. The slip of a thing that entered his office certainly piqued his interest. Long raven hair half tied behind her head and a long turquoise gown, a fine colour for a fine fabric. Doe eyed and scandalized as she regarded the illicit paintings across his office, he watched her juggle with her urge to look and the impropriety of doing so.
What was a well bred little thing doing here?
“Please,” he said and the girl jumped, tearing her eyes from the decor. “Take a seat,” he motioned to the set of chairs across by his desk.
The girl padded over, eyeing the chair and the round red pillow set with tassels at its edges suspiciously before finally taking a seat.
“What can I do for you Miss?” He asked, interlacing his fingers and setting his hands atop the desk.
The girl refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the set of scales at the right edge of the desk and the gold coins being weighed. She fidgeted in her seat.
“I was hoping to speak with you,” she said, playing with the hem of her sleeve in an obvious attempt to distract him from their trembling.
She was not the first to descend to the deplorable parts of the city to meet with him. Aleksander has had a few wives of good standing come to find their sons or husbands in the arms of another, often confirming years old suspicions. It wasn’t all that rare for Ivan to get involved, prying young women from his workers or occasionally dragging a wife from his office kicking and screaming of the rotten dark core that was his soul.
By the looks of the fawn sitting across his desk he doubted it would come to that, most likely he would be trapped in what appeared to to be at least half an hour’s worth of tender consolations and half a dozen for tissues.
Lovely. Just what he needed with the pile of papers sitting at his desk.
“Miss, this must be very upsetting to hear but if you suspect your husband may be unfaithful then I must tell you that half of them are.” He started trying to school his features into something that he could pass off as sympathetic. “You are welcome to search the halls, with my head of security as an escort of course, but I must warn you, you will find some engaged in unsavoury activities as you do, ones not fit for a lady to witness. If you wish to look for him I only ask that you keep any… confrontations outside the premises”
“Oh.” She didn’t tear up as he expected nor did she grow in anger, the girl only flustered. “Well I’m not here for my – I don’t have a husband, I mean”
“Oh?” He said, brows raising. She looked much too young to have a son old enough to frequent a brothel.
She turned crimson and despite her trembling, she met his eyes for the first time during their meeting. Soft but determined, he could respect that.
“I want a job.”
Aleksander couldn't hide his surprise, brows darting even higher.
“You want to work here?” He asked in disbelief.
She nodded. “As a– as a prostitute.”
The way she enunciated the syllables told him the word was likely not in her daily vocabulary. She wouldn’t be breaking protocol. Most of his girls were scouted in from different brothels as they distinguished themselves from the rest and then trained to perform to the caliber expected of the Little Palace, the caliber they charged for, but some did come knocking in hopes to secure a spot among the best.
He shouldn't have been so presumptuous; the world was large and surely there were different preferences and customs, although he cannot recall a single brothel that employed girls as green as the one before him. Nor could he picture her eager to take a man’s cock in her mouth for coin. But perhaps he was wrong, for some the appeal was the illusion of innocence and maybe she simply understood her clientele well enough to embody what she would deliver in the bedroom.
“What’s your name?” he asked, taking her in again. Small but pert breasts he could easily imagine sinking his teeth into, soft rounded cheeks, and a demure quality to her overall figure. He could tell those who liked taking charge would be interested in a girl like her.
"Alina." She murmured, sinking under his unflinching assessment and hugging her arms against her chest.
“Do you have any letters of recommendation?” He said opening a drawer and pulling up his record book with the name of every brothel and whore house of fine repute in the province and neighbouring ones too, the volume heavy against his wrist, he plopped it on the table with a heavy thud.
“Of recommendation?”
“Yes, from your last brothel.” He said flipping through the book for brothels he suspected someone like her had flounced out of. The Sinking Lily maybe?
He heard her shift in her seat as he leafed through the pages
“I haven’t– I’ve never worked in a brothel before.”
Aleksander paused. He closed the book and conducted his third assessment of the girl. His attention returned to her fine dress, her uneasy disposition, her modesty, and the well mannered way she kept her spine straight when she sat. He was willing to bet if he peaked down he’d find her knees pressed together and her legs stretched just to the side of the chair, very proper.
He turned back to the girl, meeting her nervous gaze.
“I don’t employ runaways,” he said coldly.
He’s had plenty of trouble with those before. Silly little girls growing tired of gilded cages thinking they’ll find freedom by letting men in between their legs to find theirs.
“I’m not a runaway. Well, no one would come looking for me anyway.” She said before biting the inside of her cheek.
“Your parents?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.
“I’m an orphan.” She must have caught the disbelief crossing his features, or perhaps she’s seen a similar reaction before. “I know I don’t look like it. My parents were of good social standing so I had the fortune of growing up with a Duke, a family friend.”
“And he won’t come looking for you?”
“No” she teared up. “I’m afraid I’ve upset him terribly. I’m dead to him.” A tear slipped down her rosy cheek and Aleksander wanted to reach out to catch it as much as he wanted to take the liberty to run his fingers over her soft lips.
“Whatever caused such an estrangement?” He leaned back, hoping to masquerade his attraction and give as much distance as he could between them before he did something he would regret. A fundamental rule of his was to never mix pleasure with business, and he’d already broken that with Zoya, no need to repeat mistakes and cause more complications in his life.
“I fell in love.” She said with a sad smile.
“Oh dear.” He said, his eyes still at her lips, he doubted it sounded as sincere as it should. “Not with a good fellow I take it.”
“No, not at all.” she hiccuped. “I left home to be with him, we were engaged you see, but before we could be married, he left me for another.” She gasped on a sob before continuing. “I have nowhere to go. They said they wouldn't take me back now that I’ve sullied myself for him.”
The story did match the evidence. Her dress might have been of good quality but now upon further examination, her neck and ears were bare of any jewelry. Likely sold away in a last ditch attempt to feed and house herself before she was forced to turn to him.
“But you were never married?”
She shook her head wiping her tears discreetly.
“Have you ever slept with a man before?”
Another timid shake of her head and as she averted her stare to her lap, apparently finding the way her dress stretched across her thighs incredibly interesting, all so not to look at him.
Aleksander could have laughed, instead, he crossed his arms with a smirk he knew was patronizing at best.
“What makes you think you have what it takes to be a whore?”
Her head snapped up.
“How hard can it be?” She said looking wholly serious.
At that he chuckled.
“You little doe, still a virgin, think you can walk in, be hired on the spot, and make a living as a whore just like that?”
She raised her chin looking almost confused. “Yes?”
She was determined, and that mixed with her innocence made her absolutely delectable.
He pushed his chair back, stretching up and pacing to the bookshelf just behind the desk. He opened the cabinet and pulled a booklet of paper from his pile, closing the door and turning back to face her.
Aleksander strode around the desk coming to stand just beside her and he placed the papers directly in front of the girl, taking the time to straighten them just so.
“What’s this?” She asked craning her neck to look at him.
“Your contract.”
He plucked his pen from its holder, obsidian finish and black stained metal tip, and set it above the paper, tapping his finger twice over the dotted line where her name should go.
“Meals and boarding will be provided as well as security. You will keep a percentage of your earnings and part of the rest will go to pay for what I spend on you, food, dresses, training, and whatever else caring for you requires.” He faced her, leaning back against the desk, two hands set on the very edge as he did.
Slipping the pen aside, Alina took the paper in her hands, holding it up so as to scan every line of the lengthy paragraphs neatly printed across its many pages. He tsked in distaste.
“Rule number one Alina,” He plucked the pages from her with one hand, leaving her to grasp at the air, and set the contract down on the table again. “Sign what I give you.”
She had an unruly expression on her face. That was alright, she would have to be broken in properly and he would see to it.
She took the pen and scrawled her name where he had indicated with a frown.
Alina Starkov.
Then, she turned her neck to look at him. “When do I start?”
“Keen to spread your legs?” He asked with a cruel twist of his lips.
A blush coloured her cheeks.
“I– I just–” She stammered sweetly, like a newborn fawn.
“You aren’t hired yet.” He said as he pushed off the desk.
“But I’ve just signed the contract,” she said, eyes wide, indignant.
He moved closer, sliding in between the desk and her chair to stand directly before her.
“The Little Palace is the most respected brothel in this city, in the whole country, we cater our services to the elite and the nobility. Our customers pay prime prices and they expect prime services. You are untrained, inexperienced, and you’ve given me very little reason to believe you can do this job, I would be a fool to risk this establishment's reputation by putting you in the halls.” He said matter-of-fact and from this angle, high above her, the tears that bloomed at her eyes looked so charming on her, as did the desperation that washed over her features.
“Please, please Sir, I– don’t have anywhere else to go, I’ll be in the streets!” Tears rolled down her face.
“Do you want to work here?”
She nodded, and he reached out to brush a tear away with his thumb.
“Then prove it.” He caressed her cheek with his digit, moving in gentle circles enjoying the softness of her skin. “If you can't, I will tear up that contract, I will toss you out to beg like a gutter rat and men will be taking what they could have bought from you for free. Do you understand?”
Alina sniffled, but nodded fiercely.
“Good.” So sweet this little thing that wandered into his office, and now she was his by right, the contract willed it so at least in the eyes of the law. So fresh and green, he reasoned he would be doing her a favour by breaking her in, so what if he took some pleasure in doing so?
Slowly, he dragged his finger down her cheek, to her lips. He pulled her lower lip down, amusing himself with the way she pouted. Slowly, but not without force, he pushed the digit into her mouth.
“Suck.”
She did. The action foreign to her, he could tell, but when she hollowed out her cheeks for him he began to move his thumb lazily in and out. Her eyes were so big as they looked up at him, her throat bared with the height difference, she was utterly at his mercy and it made his cock stir. She took him in well but as he pulled out he felt her teeth drag against his skin, pulling slightly.
“No teeth. Never any teeth when you suck a man.” She immediately corrected herself covering her teeth with her lips sucking him harder. “Yes. Like that.”
Aleksander drove his finger in as far as they would go and watched as she gagged lightly around him before adjusting to the sensation. They would have to work on that.
He wanted her sweet lips around his cock and wanted her to take him all the way down her throat. He continued his movements until she moaned lightly, Aleksander nearly groaned at the sound. He pulled his thumb out and wiped on the collar of her dress. If it scandalized her, she was too captivated by what he did to truly feel it.
“Up.” He ordered.
On shaky legs she rose to her feet, standing just a hand's breadth away from him. He grabbed her wrist and drew her away from the chair before resting a palm on her chest and pushing her back, away from him and the desk. She frowned in confusion.
“Strip.”
Her hands darted to her chest to cover herself. “What? Here?”
“This is a brothel. What did you think you’d be doing?” He crossed his arms.
Aleksander watched her throat bob as she swallowed. She slipped her arms from the sleeves pushing the dress down until it pooled at her feet leaving her in just a near sheer white shift and knee high white socks kept in place by a light blue ribbon.
He raised a brow at her when she paused.
With a deep breath and trembling fingers she slipped off the shift revealing her breasts, nipples already perked, and her cunt adorned with a patch of dark hair.
Aleksander raised a hand and twirled his index finger prompting her to turn in place. She turned crimson mouth agape before she caught herself and did as he ordered, Aleksander staring shamelessly at her round ass. His cock strained against his pants.
“Am I to your liking?” She asked frowning at what she probably considered an intrusion.
He debated telling her to place her palms on the ground and keep her knees locked so he could take a closer look at her cunt, but he didn’t want her to start crying again, nor did he want to traumatize the girl by being too brash. She was clearly a delicate doll and needed to be cared for as such. Besides, he’d get to look soon enough.
He hummed in approval. “Perfect.”
He stepped forward and took her hand. “Come,” he said, and led her to the cushions by the fireplace.
Everything about the place set off every warning bell in her head. The stench of drugs that seems to be everywhere, the screens through which she caught the silhouettes of men and women moaning in tandem, and the drapes, so many drapes attempting to make the place look exotic. She’d wanted to turn around from the moment the boorish looking man had led her in.
And then there was its owner. Dark eyes of uncertain depths and dark hair to match, she couldn't look at him just as much as she couldn’t look away. She belonged to him if the few lines of the contract she managed to read before he snatched it out of her hands were any indication. She could only hope there was some kindness to his greed.
Alina stood utterly naked. No man had ever seen her like this, she wanted to run and hide behind the curtains, but the way he looked at her, all consuming, like the first ray of spring sunshine after a long winter, kept her feet from moving.
There was little choice but to follow him when he took her wrist and led her to the living space, stopping just short of the cushions.
“There are certain skillsets you are expected to know,” she nodded trying to keep pace with the conversation when her mind was so keenly aware of the cold air perking her nipples.
He still had her hand but she angled the other just over her navel, but with him towering over her she debated whether she should cover her breasts instead. “As it is, you know none of them. Let’s hope you are an apt pupil, yes?”
She nodded vehemently again, only to see him smirk as he dropped her hand. Freed, she drew her arms in to cover her chest.
“Ah ah, none of that,” he grabbed both arms and pulled them to her sides. “Customers are paying to see, to obstruct their view would be theft.”
Her stomach dropped at that. Was that just a figure of speech? Surely he didn’t mean it did he? Could she be arrested for bad service if a customer could claim it was ‘theft’?
A pinch at her nipple broke her thoughts. “And why bother when your tits are so lovely.”
Alina never expected such lewd words would send a hot straight line for her core, but she felt herself warm there all the same. Saints, the shame of it all.
What if Mal could see her now? Would he regret leaving her? Would he cry? Would he laugh at how low she had succumbed as he pranced off his new beau?
“You must be here Alina.” Rough fingers at her chin pulling her gaze to meet his own, dark and berating.
“If you have any fantasies of maidens lying back and thinking of the pasture while customers seek pleasure on their own, you best be forgetting them now. You must be involved and present at all times. You cannot be hiding, not physically,” fingers lightly trailing down her neck, to her chest, circling her nipples, “and not mentally.”
He drew in slowly. The hand at her jaw prevented her still but it was for other reasons entirely she was unable to move away as he inched closer. “Show me you can kiss.”
His lips met hers and Alina froze.
No that wouldn’t help her, she needed to prove to him she could do it, so that she could stay. She had seen what the streets did to those who had no better shelter and she would not let that happen to herself. Better a whore than destitute and dead. She ignored the shame burning at her cheeks and pressed her lips over his, drawing a surprised groan from him. That was a good sign, no?
With his hand moving from her chin to the back of her head, he moved his lips with her, and slowly what was clumsy and clashing smoothed into unified movements as she began to understand the mechanics of it all, intuitively locking her lips in between his.
A soft press of his tongue had that confidence wavering. Taking advantage of the gasp that left her at the contact, he drew his tongue in. A little at first but slowly he began to consume her, little whimpers escaping without her permission. She felt the steady pressure of his hand at the back of her neck, pressing her further into the kiss, and with her eyes firmly screwed shut she darted her tongue to taste him as well.
Mal’s kisses had been nothing like this, only soft barely there pecks to be quickly pulled away.
Alina pushed in, determined to earn her keep, she tasted him as he tasted her, meeting him nearly stroke for stroke. Saints, she didn’t know what came over her but as she drew her tongue back she nipped at his bottom lip and was handsomely rewarded by a wayward moan of his as well as a look of pleasant surprise when she opened her eyes to peek at him.
He drew away from her smirking slightly. He inclined his head to the side. “Good.”
Pride bloomed at her chest at his approval. She must have been grinning like a fool when she licked her lips, so self assured, for his smirk turned devilish
“Lesson number two.” He rested both hands on her shoulder before pushing her down roughly, onto her knees. “Have you ever seen a cock Alina?”
Only in picture books she nearly answered, recalling Marie’s found little treasure she had plucked from an old trunk, the afternoon they’d spent frowning at the pictures of tangled limbs, and the incredibly awkward conversation she’d had with the Duke after they’d been caught by the gardener no less. The mechanics of it all was familiar, but how could any of that possibly transpire with her at her knees?
Before she could think of a more suitable answer, his hands were over her own and he was setting them right over the bulge in his pants, her fingers at the laces. She drew her brows together and looked at him questioningly only to be assured by a subtle incline of his chin at the laces before her.
Slowly, and with trembling fingers, Alina pulled at the strings loosening the closure so that he could slip a hand in and pull himself out.
It stood at attention and was…of significant size, not that she had anything to compare it to other than her own body, but its size certainly had Alina questioning the laws of nature, for she doubted that it would fit anywhere near her.
“Use your hands to stroke it,” he crooned.
Alina wasn’t sure where to even start. Hovering her hands just over him, she considered her task, trying to find the right angle. She craned her neck to find him watching intently as she struggled. With a sigh he took her hand with his own and wrapped her fingers around his cock.
“Go on, it won’t bite,” he encouraged with a chuckle at her expense.
Tentatively, she took hold of him on her own. It was softer than she expected and yet harder somehow. She tried not to dwell on the details as she moved her hand up, then down in one gentle motion. He seemed pleased enough, but not entirely fazed.
He was polished, she’d noticed that, even with eyes left red from what she’d wager had been a long night, his attire was well kept and hair combed back. He was handsome, his presence imposing, and she hated to admit but she might even like the feeling of his touch. His cool control was attractive but she wanted him moaning as he was before.
Alina doubled her efforts, gripping him harder and moving faster along the length of it. That earned her a response, a sharp intake of breath and a slight tip of his head back.
She watched him closely, twisting her wrists at the top had him breathing harder, she played with her strength finding the grip that he seemed to like the most, watching the way his cock twitched in her palm. She looked him squarely in the eye, his pupils blown wide as he regarded her, she imitated his smirk as best she could, let him call her incompetent now.
“Good.” His voice was hoarse but held no less authority. “Now use your mouth.”
She paused. “Wha–”
He fisted his hand in her hair and she would have whimpered at the slight pain had he not shoved her forward, slotting his cock in her mouth. She heard him exhale deeply. Thankfully he stopped her just about a knuckle deep and let her labor with that before proceeding any further. She covered her teeth like he'd said, making sure they made no contact with his flesh.
“Hollow your cheeks and suck,” he said in a murmur. She did and his grip on her hair tightened.
With her head firmly held in place, he began to shift his hips, in and out.
Alina tried to calm her racing heart at the invasion, relax the ragged feeling in her throat, and somehow suppress the horrid sound of choking coming from her, but the more he drove in the more she battled with the desire to push him away and the need for more.
When she began to adjust it wasn’t so bad. Nothing could save her from the feeling of being filled, but once she understood his pace and could move with him Alina found some sort of comfort in the action.
That is until he ceased holding back. The hand at her head prevented her from moving away as he slid as deep as he could go with a rough grunt.
Eyes wide, her hands scrambled at his hips trying to push the mass of him away to no avail. She choked, eyes watering as she struggled for air.
“Shhh, breathe through your nose.” He instructed with calm, not at all swayed by her panic.
He pulled out a few inches allowing her to still her heart and breathe as instructed.
“That’s it.” He began to push her head, maneuvering her to take him as he liked.
She let herself yield to him, letting him guide her movements and evening her breaths with his rhythm, all the while his eyes did not leave her own.
His fingers dug into her hair, the sharp pain making her mewl against his cock. He apparently liked the sensation for he pulled on her hair again and again taking each sound that broke from her lips and was smothered by his length with a heavy exhales which almost edged on the side of a moan.
He inhaled sharply before he pulled away, leaving a string of drool to connect her slobbered chin and his cock. The part of her that had been raised in propriety screamed at how deplorable she’d become.
She wiped at her wet cheeks, when had she started crying?
“Good girl,” he praised, his fingers softening their hold against her hair and instead rubbing her aching scalp in soothing circles, so contradictory to the brutality of before. “We’ll teach you to swallow some other time, hmm?”
She didn’t understand but she nodded all the same. Alina tried to piece herself together through shuddering breaths and trembling limbs. He assessed her and she noted the way his eyes narrowed at wet tracks down her cheeks.
“You mustn't cry Alina,” he frowned. “Whores don’t cry,”
He pet her head as she recovered, taking deep breaths trying to slow her racing heart. Then, his hands were grabbing her arms, gripping tight and hauling her up. She obeyed, even if she swayed a little on her feet.
He wiped at her chin with his thumb.”So pretty.”
She flushed as he circled his thumb slobbering her own saliva there.
She opened her mouth to protest but he continued. “Why don’t we find out if your cunt is just as wet?”
Alina grasped for words, his filthy language turning her blush an even deeper rouge. Before she would so much as ponder berating him for his language he had his hand flat over her chest, pushing her back until the back of her legs hit the cushions behind them.
With a hard push she was falling among them.
She looked up, his imposing figure a shadow above her as the fireplace offered only backlighting to his silhouette. When her eyes adjusted she realized she could no longer see his irises, now entirely swallowed by the depth of his pupils.
Her breath caught in her throat and she was vividly aware of the heat between her legs as he began divesting himself of his clothes. His shirt went first and Alina was captivated by the way the shadows highlighted his lean muscles, how they flickered as he pulled the garment over his head and onto the floor.
The man slipped off his boots and then his pants were pushed down, his belt hitting the floor with a small thud.
It was improper to look, she knew this, but she could not cease staring at him. How much bigger he was. How his length rested against his abdomen. And Alina was horrified to find her fingers itched to touch him.
He knelt before her, resting a palm to each of her knees.
“Spread your legs.” He said, giving her knees a gentle nudge.
Alina let him inch them apart only to hear him snicker when she held them about a hand's length away from each other.
“Wider, Alina.”
But he would be able to see it if she did. From this position he’d likely see all of her. He pushed again but Alina held her legs firm.
“Alina,” he donned a grin but his eyes were hard as he met her own. “I was not asking.”
In a shuddering breath she released the tension from her legs allowing him to position them farther apart. He hummed and it set fire to her veins. She wanted to shift away but held firm, lest he berates her again. She hated the feeling of his disapproval.
“What a pretty little cunt,” he inched closer to her spread legs. “Why hide such a perfect cunt hm?”
With that a finger slid up her folds and she jerked in response. It felt so different than anything she'd felt, so at odds with any tentative touches she’s allowed herself at bath time and once in the darkness of her room. It felt like the right kind of sin.
“And what a dirty girl to be so very wet,” his grin widened. “Does it excite you to have my cock in your mouth?
Alina began to wonder if all his questions are meant to be rhetorical , it is of no matter, before she could so much as consider answering he slides a finger inside. The moan that left her mouth had her praying the walls were not as thin as the sheer screens she’d seen downstairs.
“So tight for me,” he remarked.
Alina should not want this. She should push him away. In fact it should pain her to have him touch her in this manner. But she could not deny the way her toes curl and how her hips begin moving on their own accord, as if her body cared very little for her thoughts and responded to a single plea, more, more, more …
She turned away, hoping that if she were not actively witnessing her own debauchery it would mean it did not take place. He had none of it, taking her chin in a firm grip and turning her head to face him.
“Present participant, Alina. Always.” He chided.
She whimpered at his bruising grip, he released her, only to slide a second finger inside. She knew the fit was tight as she felt him stretch her to the edge of pain. Scissoring her fingers to spread her further. She moaned and he drew them in.
His eyes did not move from her face, taking in every twitch of her expression. “I can teach you so much.”
“I– Ah!”
The pump of his fingers took on a different rhythm, faster and deeper than before. Alina let out another breathy moan.
“So many places I could show you," he twisted the placement of his hand. ”Did you know about this one, Alina?”
At that he pressed his thumb against her, against some spot that had her head reeling and her legs twitched up in pleasure. She needed to hold onto something, anything to tether her in place when the world threatened to tip her right off. She reached out and found his shoulder, digging tight.
“There you are.” She bolstered at his praise.
He circled his thumb there once, twice, another time and she felt something coil at her tummy. Something she had only felt glimpses of in the past but now it was an undeniable presence, and a demanding one. She felt something rise, higher and higher, her moans building to a crescendo at that rise. Then, she broke.
Her body jerked in the most extreme pleasure, her moans encompassing the space around her. She held firm to his shoulder but there was nothing that could be done for the way her body seemed to flee from herself, completely lost to this pleasure.
At last, she settled and with a few more pumps of his hand he drew his fingers away, Alina whining at the loss.
“So perfect when you come,” he moved himself up, over her.
His body was warm as he drew himself over her, elbows up to support himself, hips nudged against her own. Alina gasped when she felt something large and thick pressing at her entrance.
“Deep breath now,” he instructed but his voice was not as settled as it was before.
She did as he bade but did not feel that the action changed much.
He entered her, thick and bold, and Alina threw her head back.
It hurt, she knew it would hurt but she still somehow hoped that it wouldn't.
She gasped as suddenly it was too much too soon. He didn’t seem to mind her protests for he slid in deeper.
Alina scrambled to push back his shoulders trying desperately to carve some space for herself, but he was unmovable against her.
“W–wait–” She pleaded.
He took her hands from his chest and pinned them to the cushions. “Shh, be good.”
She just needed a moment to adjust. He afforded her no such thing.
He began moving and Alina could do nothing but bear it. At his third thrust the pain had subsided, at the fourth her legs began to tremble again. Then, he mocked his hand to her breast, palming and pinching at her nipple hard enough to draw a startled gasp from the girl.
She ordered her body to relax, focusing on letting her limbs calm against him. She had to be good at this, she could not afford to lie back and be waited on, not if this was to be her profession. If he wanted her an active participant then she would give him that.
Resolute, Alina canted her hips forward and was rewarded with a low grunt from him. She revelled in it, wanting, needing to hear more. She told herself it was to prove her worth that she grabbed onto his back, that she raked her nails down his back until he gasped. It was to prove herself she moaned freely and loudly. She tried to match her movement to his own, and what she lacked in grace she made up for in enthusiasm.
His hips stuttered in their movement. There was a glint in his eye as he watched her move on him.
Suddenly, he was grabbing the back of her knees, pushing them up, to rest by her ears, the movement stinging the back of her legs with the stretch. He didn’t let her adjust to the much deeper fit, he drove his hips in not caring for her yelp.
He became relentless, moving at a pace she didn’t know anyone could match. He drove her into the cushions until she was sure she had permanently moulded the shape of her back into the space.
The sounds were unholy, it had her praying he was too lost in his own movements to notice the sharp squelch of her wetness against him. The vulgar sound made worse by the silence of the room. She should be ashamed, she should be very ashamed to have fallen this low, but Alina only felt herself grow wetter.
A particular hard thrust had her gasping, tears lining her eyes.
“Take it.” He leaned to grunt at her ear. “You want to learn how to be a good little whore? Take everything I give you.”
She hiccuped and he didn't stop, pushing further and further until Alina wondered if her body would break.
He bit at her earlobe. “You’ll become such a good whore Look how well you take my cock.”
At his words she felt that spark again. The heat returned to that place in her navel.
His movements became more abrupt, his eyes clouded as his hips started to lose his rhythm.She didn’t have time to ponder his dwindling composure, before she could tell she was tittering at the edge, she had already fallen beyond it.
Alina came hard, holding on to his shoulders as she did, grasping at him with such strength she wondered if she’d be punished for it. Her hips took on a staggering moment of their own as she fell from her height, her vision fracturing in her pleasure.
He gasped as she came and with another hard pump or two of his cock, he all but shoved himself off of her. Alina watched wide eyed as he held his cock over her, still dripping of her wetness, and sputtered his spend on her stomach.
As soon as it touched her skin it began to cool, leaving only shame in its aftermath. He didn’t move to clean it, nor did he move at all. His eyes were dark as he took her in like a vision.
“So beautifully decorated in my spend,” he breathed as he admired his work.
With a grin and a sigh he dropped himself to lay beside her, reaching an arm out to pull her against his side.
It felt good, to be held in this lukewarm imitation of love.
Aleksander would never admit how long it took for him to gather himself after fucking the girl. After they were done he did not allow her to move though she squirmed, his spend drying against her stomach, likely feeling the wetness at her heat grow cold as well.
He held her firm, tucking the girl against him for long moments. Stroking her hair, having a fine time with his new acquisition.
She didn’t protest, wisely keeping from contradicting his whims. That was more than he could say for half his girls, so difficult to manage with a firm fist when he was made to deal with willful, mouthy whores such as his. Not Alina, she was…perfect.
Finally, Alina found the courage to break her silence.
“So,” she muttered. “Can I stay?”
The way she looked at him with those big eyes, her soft skin against his, and her candied moans that still rattled his brain, had him itching for more. He would let her rest, satisfied he’d done his job at introducing her to this world. Yet, she looked at him with such pleading.
“Yes, you can stay.”
Aleksander felt her subtle body relax against him as she sighed in relief, the aftereffects of her orgasm and the steady caress of his hand on her lower back lulling her eyes closed.
Such a beautiful, sweet little thing pressed up against him, holding on to him for comfort and stability.
He might just keep her for himself.