Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“I’m going back in to read lines at twelve-thirty—for a different show.”
“They’re going to love you.”
“I think this is all because—Pavel, you helped me.”
He stays quiet, so I go on.
“When I went to that first audition, I was scared that I wasn’t confident enough and didn’t know who or how to be. When you told me to just go in open like that—well, I think it made a difference. That’s why this casting director keeps calling me back.”
“There’s no human being on the planet who wouldn’t feel your magnetism. You are a natural. Go be that again.”
“I wish I had you here to open me back up again.” I lower my voice, leaning into one hip, projecting myself through the phone, all the way to Chicago.
“Where are you?”
“In my bathroom, putting on makeup.”
“Wash your hands.”
A little thrill runs through me at the simple command. The signal that Pavel’s taking the reins, even from a distance.
I turn on the water and obey. “Okay.”
“Now I want you to lean your back against the wall and close your eyes.”
I totter backward on my heels until my ass hits the door. “Okay.” My voice is breathy. Excited.
“Slide your fingers into your panties. Are you wearing panties?”
“Yes. Black panties.”
“Good. Put your fingers inside those panties and tap your clit for me.” I tap the pad of my index finger over my clit again and again.
Pavel waits, so I don’t stop. Quivers start to move through me and heat blooms.
“Now circle it. Feather-light touch.”
“Oh.” I suck my lower lip into my mouth as I barely trace a light circle around my clit. “Mmm.” Another tremor makes my knees give out.
“Rub a little harder. Make it good, little slave, or the next time I’m there, I will spend all night punishing you. That’s my pussy you’re touching right now, and I want it touched right.”
“Oh my God,” I breathe, my fingers quickening.
“I will whip those pretty breasts with the new flogger I bought you. And then your belly. Your inner thighs. Your back. And finally your ass. I will turn your ass red-hot, and then I will lube it up and fuck it until your pussy weeps. And I won’t let you come, little slave.”
“N-now?” I gasp.
Thankfully Pavel understands. “Come right now.” He makes the command sharp, like I might disobey, and I go off. I plunge two fingers in my channel just to feel my walls squeeze while I use the heel of my hand to press and rub my clit.
“Ohhhh-oh. Wow.” I sigh.
“You’ve got me harder than stone here, blossom. And I don’t have that hot, wet perfect mouth of yours to take care of me.”
“S-sorry, Master.” My limbs feel like liquid gold is coursing through them, blissful relaxation soaking through my entire body.
“Now, malysh, you go to that studio and show them this. Beautiful, beautiful you. And they will scramble to find the part that is perfect for you.”
“Thank you, Master,” I whisper. I feel wonderful again. “I love you.”
“I love you, Kayla,” he murmurs back, and the hugest smile beams back at me from the mirror. “Break a leg.”
“Thank you. Love you. Goodbye.”
I end the call feeling like the flower Pavel sees me as. Opened by him. Nearing full-bloom.
14
Pavel
I hear from Kayla Wednesday that she got a part on a series Ensign named. Her joy almost made it worth living with the knowledge that Ensign was still breathing. I had Dima transfer Ensign’s money back to his account although I considered making him sweat for a few more days.
I sent Kayla three dozen multi-colored roses to congratulate her, but the need to tell her in person made me stupid. I’m already on thin ice around here, but I asked Ravil if I could leave early for the weekend, and he flat-out refused.
“Make your choice,” he said.
No one’s going to hand you the life you want. You have to take it.
So I choose.
I fucking choose Kayla. If Ravil wants to kill me for it, he will. But I don’t believe that’s what he has in store for me. He’s showing me how to control my own destiny, the way he controlled his, even while under Igor’s heel.
I knock on Maxim and Sasha’s door Thursday noon. “You done making Sasha scream yet?” I ask when Maxim comes to the door with his shirt off and hair tousled.
“Don’t talk about my wife unless you want to die,” he returns easily. “What do you want?”
“To buy you both lunch.”
“Oh, damn. I sense a pitch coming.”
Yes, I am that douche.
“Pavel’s pitching?” Sasha calls out. “Ooh—I can’t wait to hear it. Do I get to come?”
“I believe you just did,” Maxim brags. “Several times, on my tongue.”
“I did not consent to hear that.” I put my fingers up to my eyes like blinders.
“Of course you get to come, it’s your money, caxapok.”