“Never!” she yelped, and he pushed her back down.
“Do you give up?”
“Never!”
Alexander pushed her back down.
After the fourth time, all out of breath, she said, “Wait, the clothes, the clothes!”
The laundry—undergarments, pillowcases—was all floating cheerfully by.
Alexander went after them. Dripping and laughing, Tatiana went back on shore.
He walked out of the water, dropped the clothes on the ground, and came for her. “What?” she said, dizzied by his expression. “What?”
“Look at you,” he said hotly. “Look at your nipples, look at your body in that dress.”
He lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me.”
“What do you mean?” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.
“I mean, open your legs and wrap them around me.” Holding her with one hand under her bottom, he moved her leg around his waist with the other hand. “Like this.”
“Shura, I . . . put me down.”
“No.”
Their wet lips would not stop.
When they opened their eyes, Alexander had to put Tatiana down, because six women from the village were standing at the clearing, holding their clothes baskets, staring at them with a look of perplexed and frankly disapproving confusion.
“We were just leaving,” Tatiana muttered as Alexander draped something wet over her shoulders to cover her see-through dress. She never wore a bra, didn’t own one, and for the first time in her life she was aware of her nipples poking out and being seen through a sheer item of clothing. It was as if suddenly she saw herself with Alexander’s eyes.
“Well, that will be all over Lazarevo tomorrow,” she said. “Could it be any more humiliating?”
“I would say yes,” said Alexander, leaning into her. “They could have come three minutes later.”
Turning bright red, Tatiana didn’t respond. Laughing, he put his arm around her.
When they got to the house, Tatiana in a wet dress and Alexander in wet trousers and nothing else, the old ladies looked mortified. “The clothes floated away,” Tatiana explained—unsatisfactorily, she felt. “We had to dive in and rescue them.”
“Well, I’ve never heard of such a thing happening,” mumbled Dusia, crossing herself. “In all my years of living.”
Alexander disappeared into the house, emerging five minutes later dressed in his khaki army trousers, black army boots, and the white ribbed sleeveless top Tatiana had sewn for him. She peered at him through the sheets she was haphazardly hanging. He was crouching as he rummaged through his rucksack. She watched Alexander in profile, his bare muscled arms, his soldier’s body, his spiky wet black hair, a cigarette in the corner of his lips—Tatiana’s breath was taken away from her, he looked so beautiful. He turned his head to her and smiled.
“I have a dry dress for you,” he said, and out of his rucksack he produced her white dress with red roses.
He told her how he had retrieved it from Fifth Soviet.
“I don’t think it’ll fit me anymore,” she said, very moved. “But maybe I’ll try it on another day?”
“Fine,” Alexander said, stuffing it back into his rucksack. “You can wear it for me another day.” He picked up his rifle and all his belongings. “You don’t need anything. You’re done here. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Away from here,” he said, lowering his voice. “Where we can be uninterrupted and alone.”
They stared at each other.
“Bring money,” he said.
“I thought you said we didn’t need anything?”
“And bring your passport. We might go to Molotov.”
The immense excitement Tatiana felt vanquished all guilt as she told the four ladies she was leaving. Naira said, “Are you going to be back for dinner?”
Slinging his rifle on his back and taking Tatiana by the hand, Alexander said, “Probably not.”
“But, Tania, our sewing circle is today at three.”
“Yes . . .” Alexander drew out. “Tania won’t be joining you today. But you ladies have a great session.”
They ran down to the river. Tatiana never even looked back.
“Where are we going?”
“Your grandparents’ house.”
“Why there? It’s such a mess.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“And we had such a fight there yesterday.”
“No.” He gazed at her. “You know what we had there yesterday?”
Tatiana knew. She made no reply but held his hand tighter.
When they got to the clearing, Tatiana walked inside the izba, which was empty but spotless. It was a one-room cabin with four long windows and a great big furnace stove in the center that took up half the room. There was not an item of furniture, but the wooden floor had been mopped, the windows were clean, and even the sheer white curtains had been washed and dried and no longer smelled moldy. Tatiana peeked out. Alexander was on his knees driving a tent stake into the ground. His back was to her. She put her hand on her heart. Come on, calm down, she told herself.
Walking outside, she collected some twigs into a bundle in case he wanted to make a fire.
Tatiana was paralyzed by fear and love, walking around the sandy pine-needle banks of the river Kama during a sunlit noon in June.
She took off her sandals and put her feet into the cool water. She could not go near Alexander now, but maybe later they could go swimming. “Watch out!” she heard from behind her. Alexander sprinted into the water and dove in, wearing just his army skivvies.
“Tania, want to go swimming?” he called to her.
Her heart pounding, she shook her head. “I see you know how to swim very well,” she said, watching him do the backstroke.
He lifted his face to her from the water. “I know how to swim,” he said. “Come in, I’ll race you.” He grinned. “Underwater. All the way to the other side.”
If she weren’t so nervous, she would have grinned back and then taken him up on it.
Alexander came out, pulling back his wet hair. His naked chest, his naked arms, his naked legs glistened. He was laughing; to Tatiana he appeared to be glowing from the inside out. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his taut, magnificent body. His wet skivvies clung to him—
No, she was not going to make it.
“Feels good,” Alexander said, coming up to her. “Come on, let’s swim.”
Tatiana shook her head, backing away on unsteady legs to the edge of the clearing, where she picked some blueberries off the low bushes. Please, calm down, she kept repeating to herself. Please.
“Tatia,” he called quietly from right behind her, and she turned around. He was drying himself off. She handed him some blueberries; he took them but didn’t let go of her hand, gently pulling her down to the grass. “You sweet girl, sit down for a minute.”
Tatiana sat on the grass, and Alexander knelt in front of her. Leaning forward, he very softly kissed her lips. Tatiana stroked his arms. She could barely breathe.
“Tatia . . . Tatiasha,” he said huskily, taking her hands and kissing them, kissing her wrists and the insides of her forearms.
“Yes?” she said, just as huskily.
“We’re alone together.”
“I know,” she replied, suppressing a moan.
“We have privacy.”
“Hmm.”
“Privacy, Tania!” Alexander said intensely. “For the first time in our life you and I have real privacy. We had it yesterday. And we have it today.”
She couldn’t take the emotion in his crème brûlée eyes. She lowered her gaze.
“Look at me.”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
Alexander cupped her small face in his massive hands. “Are you . . . scared?”
“Terrified.”
“No. Please, don’t be scared of me.” He kissed her deeply on the lips, so
deeply, so fully, so lovingly, that Tatiana felt the aching pit inside her open up and flare upward. She tottered, physically unable to continue sitting upright. “Tatiasha,” he said, “why are you so beautiful? Why?”
“I’m a rag,” she said. “Look at you.”
He hugged her. “God, what a blessing.” Pulling away, Alexander took her hands. “Tania, you are my miracle, you know that, don’t you? You are the one God sent me to give me faith.” He paused. “He sent you to redeem me, to comfort me, and to heal me—and that’s just so far,” he added with a smile. “I’m barely able to hold myself together right now, I want to make love to you so much . . .” Here he stopped. “I know you’re afraid. I will never hurt you. Will you come into my tent with me?”
“Yes,” Tatiana said, softly but audibly.
Alexander carried her in his arms to his tent, setting her down on his blanket and closing the tent flaps behind them. It was subdued and dusky inside, with only the barest sunlight filtering in through the open ties. “I would have brought you inside the nice, clean house,” he said, smiling, “but we have no quilts, no pillows, and it’s all wood and a hard furnace top.”
“Mmm,” Tatiana muttered. “Tent is good.” She could have been on a marble floor of the Peterhof Palace for all she cared.
Alexander was hugging her to him, but all she wanted was to be lying down in front of him. How did he do that? “Shura,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he whispered back, kissing her neck.
But he wasn’t . . . he wasn’t doing anything else, as if he were waiting, or thinking, or . . .
Alexander pulled away from her, and she saw by the reserve in his eyes that something was troubling him.
“What’s the matter?”
He couldn’t look at her. “You said so many upset things to me yesterday . . . not that I don’t deserve all of them . . .”
“You don’t deserve all of them.” She smiled. “What?”
He took a deep breath.
“Ask me.” She knew what he wanted from her.
His eyes remained lowered.
Shaking her head, Tatiana said, “Lift your head. Look at me.” He did. Kneeling in front of him, Tatiana held his face between her hands, kissed his lips, and said, “Alexander, the answer is yes . . . yes . . . of course I’ve saved myself for you. I belong to you. What are you even thinking?”
His happy, relieved, excited eyes flowed into her. “Oh, Tania.” For a moment he didn’t speak. “You have no idea . . . what that means to me—”
“Shh,” she whispered. She knew.
He closed his eyes. “You were right,” he said emotionally. “I don’t deserve what you have to give me.”
“If not you, who?” said Tatiana, hugging him. “Where are your hands? I want them.”
“My hands?” He kissed her ardently. “Lift your arms.” He took off her sundress and laid her down on the blanket, kneeling over her, roaming over her face and throat with his hungry lips, roaming over her body with his hungry fingers.
“Now I need you completely naked before me, all right?” he whispered.
“All right.”
He took off her white cotton panties, and Tatiana in her weakness watched him in his weakness, staring at her and then uttering, “No, I can’t take it . . .”
He put his cheek against her breast. “Your heart is pounding like gunfire . . .” He licked her nipples. “Don’t be scared.”
“All right,” Tatiana whispered, her hands in his damp hair.
Bending over her, Alexander whispered, “You tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. I’ll go as slow as you need me to. What do you want?”
Tatiana couldn’t reply. She wanted to ask him to bring her instant relief from the fire but could not. She had to trust in Alexander.
His palm pressing into her stomach, Alexander whispered, “Look at you, your wet, erect nipples standing up, pleading with me to suck them.”
“Suck them,” Tatiana whispered, moaning.
He did. “Yes. Moan, moan as loud as you want. No one can hear you but me, and I came sixteen hundred kilometers to hear you, so moan, Tania.” His mouth, his tongue, his teeth devoured her breasts as her back and chest and hips arched into him.
Lying down on his side next to her, Alexander eased his hand between her thighs.
“Wait, wait,” she said, trying to keep her legs together.
“No, open,” Alexander said, his hand pushing her legs apart. With his fingers he traced her thigh upward. “Shh,” he whispered, wrapping his free arm around her neck. “Tania, you’re trembling.” His fingers touched her. Her body stiffened. Alexander’s breath stopped. Tatiana’s breath stopped. “Do you feel how gently I rub you,” he whispered, his lips on her cheek. “You . . . so blonde all over.”
Her hands were clenched on her stomach under his forearm. Her eyes were closed.
“Do you feel that, Tatia?”
She moaned.
Alexander stroked her up and down and then in small circles. “You feel unbelievable . . .” he whispered.
Her hands clenched tighter.
He rubbed her a little firmer. “Want me to stop?” He groaned slightly.
“No!”
“Tania, do you feel me against your hip?”
“Hmm. I thought that was your rifle.”
His hot breath was in her neck. “Whatever you want to call it is fine with me.” He bent over her and sucked her nipples as he rubbed her and rubbed against her—
In circles, in circles—
As she moaned and moaned—
And—
He pulled his fingers away and his mouth away and himself away.
“No, no, no. Don’t stop,” Tatiana murmured in a panic, opening her eyes. In the palpitating tension of her flesh she had begun to feel combustion, and when he stopped, she started to quiver so uncontrollably that Alexander lay on top of her briefly to calm her, pressing his forehead to her forehead. “Shh. It’s all right.” He paused for a second and got off her. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Unsteadily, Tatiana said, “I don’t know. What else have you got?”
He nodded. “All right, then.” He pulled off his shorts and knelt in front of her.
When Tatiana saw him, she sat straight up. “Oh, my God, Alexander,” she muttered incredulously, backing away.
“It’s all right,” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “Where are you going?” His hands held on to her legs.
“No,” she said, shaking her head, staring at him in astonishment. “No, no. Please.”
“Somehow, and in His infinite wisdom,” Alexander said, “God has ensured that it all works the way it’s supposed to.”
“Shura, it can’t be possible. It’ll never—”
“Trust me,” Alexander said, staring at her with lust. “It will.”
He lay her down flat, and said, “I cannot wait a second longer. Not another second. I need to be inside you right now.”
“Oh, God. No, Shura.”
“Yes, Tania, yes. Say that to me. Yes, Shura.”
“Oh, God. Yes, Shura.”
Alexander climbed on top of her, supporting himself on his arms. “Tania,” he whispered passionately, “you are naked and underneath me!” As if he could not believe it himself.
“Alexander,” she said, still trembling, “you are naked and above me.” She felt him rubbing against her.
They kissed. “I can’t believe it,” he said, his breath shallow. “I didn’t think this day would ever come.” He paused and then whispered, “Yet I couldn’t imagine my life without it. You alive, under me. Tania, touch me. Put your hands on me.”
Instantly she reached down and took hold of him.
“Do you feel how hard I am,” he whispered, “. . . for you?”
“God, yes,” she said in crazed disbelief. Seeing him was a profound shock to her. Feeling him was entirely too much. “It’s impossible,” she muttered, stroking him gently. “You will kill me.”
/> “Yes,” Alexander said. “Let me. Open your legs.”
She did.
“No, wider.” Alexander kissed her and whispered, “Open yourself for me, Tania. Go ahead . . . open for me.”
Tatiana did. She continued to stroke him.
“Now, are you ready?”
“No.”
“You are, you are ready. Let go of me.” He smiled. “Hold on to my neck. Hold on tight.”
Slowly Alexander pushed himself inside her, little by little, little by little. Tatiana grasped at his arms, at the blanket, at his back, at the grass above her head. “Wait, wait, please . . .” He waited as best he could. Tatiana felt as she had imagined she would—that she was being torn open. But something else, too.
An intemperate hunger for Alexander.
“All right,” he said at last. “I’m inside you.” He kissed her and breathed deeply out. “I’m inside you, Tatiasha.”
Softly she moaned, her hands around his neck. “Are you really inside me?”
“Yes.” He pulled up slightly. “Feel.”
She felt. “I can’t believe you . . . fit.”
Smiling, Alexander whispered, “Only just, but yes.” He kissed her lips. Took a breath. Left his lips on her. “As if God Himself joined our flesh . . .” He took another breath. “. . . Me and you together, and said, they shall be one.”
Tatiana lay very still. Alexander was very still, his lips pressed against her forehead. Was there more? Tatiana’s body was aching. There was no relief. Her hands went around to hold him a little closer. She looked up into his flushed face. “Is that it? Is that all there is to it?”
Alexander paused a moment. “Not quite.” He inhaled her breath. “I’m just—Tania, we’ve been so desperately longing for this . . .” he whispered into her mouth, “and the moment will never come again.” He gazed into her face. “I don’t want to let it go.”
“All right,” she whispered back. She was throbbing. She tilted her hips up to him.
Another moment.
“Ready?” He pulled slowly and slightly out and pushed himself back in. Tatiana gritted her teeth, but through the gritted teeth a moan escaped.