Nervously tying the belt around her waist, Zena turned to face the prince and choked back a small breath as she looked up into the dark, handsome face looming above her. In the silent room only the sound of their breathing was heard.
The prince stood motionless as his pale eyes, predatory now, roamed Zena's opulent contours so startlingly revealed by the soft, clinging blue fabric. He hadn't intentionally chosen the color, having selected the first warm robe he saw from the closet reserved for his "overnight" guests, but the light shade of blue was a perfect foil for the mademoiselle's shimmering, midnight blue eyes.
"Your eyes are beautiful," the prince murmured faintly.
"Quite beautiful," he amended thoughtfully. The compliment was without design—simply a spontaneous reaction, involuntarily uttered. In the dim, lamplit room, the mademoiselles luminous deep blue eyes radiated a glowing, seductive allure.
Lord, what eyes! he thought, enticing, intriguing, tantalizing, breathless. The prince knew he would not long be proof against those melting dark blue eyes that were gazing up at him, but he made a herculean effort of restraint and said urbanely, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "I was worried about you, mademoiselle. You hadn't returned and Bobby's been sleeping for somewhat more than twenty minutes. Nothing's wrong, is it?" he inquired pleasantly, and it took all his elf-control to keep from touching her.
"No, no, my lord," Zena stammered. "It's just so comfortably warm, and saunas always make me drowsy. I . . . I . . . just lay down to rest and the time slipped by. You needn't have worried. Really, my lord, you've been more than kind to Bobby and me." Zena lifted her gaze once again to the warm, golden eyes so firmly fixed on her, and she flushed at the message she read in their heated depths.
"As your host it's my duty to be helpful, mademoiselle," he replied with a frank and unaffected simplicity designed to calm the young woman's obvious trepidation, but his composed disclaimer belied the transparent sensual message in his eyes. "A duty, let me assure you, mademoiselle," he added with a warm smile, "I find exceedingly agreeable."
The close proximity of the prince, the ardent message in his eyes, and the sense of lithe, coiled tensile strength emanating from him caused Zena's floundering senses to flutter desperately. He casually held his hand out. Zena nervously moved back a step. An amused smile played across his fine features as he pointed languidly and said, "The brush, mademoiselle. I'll help with the tangles in your hair."
"Oh!" Zena squeaked skittishly. "The .-. . the . . . brush," she quavered.
"Yes, mademoiselle, the brush if you please," Alex soothingly replied. "I promise not to hurt." The double entendre further stiffened his erection. He lost a little of his sangfroid and shifted unobtrusively.
Why had he ever been so rash as to promise not to touch her? Given her desperate circumstance, he could have struck any bargain he pleased with her. What a fool he'd been to be so charitable; such careless impetuosity was the result of being exceedingly drunk. Had he been sober, he would have been considerably more hardhearted. Christ, she was penniless and homeless, prey to any adventurer and blackguard, and what did he do?—made some goddamn noble gesture that necessitated this charade. Devil take it! Five minutes, he fulminated silently. I'll give her five minutes more, and if she hasn't fallen into my arms, integrity be damned! I'll rape her. He was amazed and disconcerted with the attendant consequences of his careless generosity on the train. Normally it wasn't his way to disturb himself over anything. His principles had always been lax, and now he was envisioning rape. Whimsically he considered the absurdity of noble gestures.
Zena handed the hairbrush over compliantly. Grasping her gently by the shoulders, Alex turned the young woman around so that her back was presented to him. He lightly brushed the long waves, stopping occasionally to undo some knotted curls.
Zena was quite sure it wasn't altogether appropriate that the prince be here brushing her hair when she was in such a state of dishabille, but he seemed to have come out of concern for her long absence. Maybe St. Petersburg's country manners were more relaxed, allowing casual encounters like this without the censure of impropriety. In any event his fingers were very gentle, and the long, slow brush strokes were soothingly pleasurable. She shut her eyes contendedly and smiled happily.
The prince noted the long, dark lashes lower with felicitous gratification. "Pardon, mademoiselle," Alex murmured. "This may pull a bit; a very stubborn tangle." Bending near, his warm breath touched her cheek, sending shocks down her spine as he pushed her long curls aside. His brown fingers lightly touched the back of her neck to untangle the snarl. At his touch Zena shivered as a hot glow began to spread. The prince's smile deepened. The tension of the long day in his presence, the soothing warmth of the sauna, and the delicate feel of those long, lean fingers served to kindle Zena's desire. Her slowly awakening senses made her want to touch the powerful, masculine body as she had wished to do a hundred times that day. Every quivering sensation in her body yearned for the seductively magnetic nobleman while he blandly and coolly, with a civil cordiality, resumed brushing her hair. This piqued and provoked her. With a woman's perversity she wanted him to desire her. Did he feel no attraction to her? Was she less appealing then mon ange of the previous evening? Had he found her wanting in their encounter on the train to Moscow? His eyes minutes ago had seemed to speak an ardent message, or in her own confusion was she misreading the expression.
Taking exception to the prince's disinterest with a deep-seated womanly umbrage, Zena in a thoroughly feminine volte-face lifted limpid, deep blue eyes and, staring straight at the prince's face in the mirror before her, said in a lightly teasing way, "Is it only a host's duty, my lord, that prompts your kindness?"
Bestowing an extremely penetrating stare on the young damsel, the prince murmured, "Would you have it otherwise?"
"A soft blush followed by a delightful confusion struck the flustered mademoiselle, telling him quite clearly they understood each other. He expelled a soft sigh of relief. Zena had made the first move. Thank God, for his composure had been near to cracking. Standing a hairbreadth away from an all but nude beauty in the privacy of a dimly lit sauna without grasping the ripe, opulent fruit was as near to torture as he had ever come.
The prince dropped the hairbrush and followed through with consummate skill; reaching out to hold Zena gently by both shoulders, he turned her slowly around, took her unresisting hands in his, lifted them around his neck, and locked his mouth on hers. Burying his fingers in her silky hair, he delicately kissed the warm parted lips. His voice dropped to a dulcet whisper as he caressed her rosy mouth.
"Would you have it otherwise, sweet dushka!" he repealed as his hands slipped down her slender back, molding her pliant, thinly raped body to his hard frame. He groaned as his manhood swelled. His mouth traced a path down Zena's silken throat, lightly caressing the slender column. Practiced fingers untied the robe. His hands moved up her arms until they reached her shoulders, pushing the fabric back and down her arms until the garment fell to the floor; his warm, broad hands set her blood burning. He parted the folds of draped towel, and it too fell unheeded to the carpet. Alex's hand cupped her bare breast, lifting the firm flesh lightly until his lips tasted a rosebud pink nipple. Zena's eyes closed as a frisson of pleasure coursed through her heated, tingling body.
The prince's dark head remained bent as he nibbled and softly sucked both rosy peaks now hardened under his lips. Zena caught her breath and melted back against the strong arm that held her firmly, luxuriating in each new wave of sensuous warmth racing through her veins. She looked down at the black, wavy hair and lifted her hands hesitantly to caress the dark head. The poised hands fluttered.
Then Alex's hand, previously employed stroking her breasts as he nibbled at their tips, glided down her belly and slipped between her thighs. Zena moaned in soft surrender and clasped his beautiful head to her breasts. Slender, bronzed fingers toyed with the moist and dewy entrance to her inner warmth, caressing the silken tissue, pulsa
ting and damp with desire.
The prince lifted his head slowly and looked into blue eyes hot with passion. "Tell me you want me." His voice was low.
Zena's lips parted. She could hear her own labored breathing. A pink, rosy blush suffused her ivory skin. Uttering small soft sounds of building rapture, she clung to Alex with breathless urgency.
"Tell me," he repeated firmly, needing the sop to his honor.
Zena hesitated, her emotions in turmoil, passion overwhelming every rational thought.
Alex's lips closed over hers; his tongue licked tantaliz-ingly, then plunged into the velvety depths of her tremulous mouth. Zena's fingers convulsively tightened their grip, digging her nails into his powerful shoulders. He shifted his body to hold her closer, pulling her against them. The prince's warm, demanding lips forced an ardent moan. Lifting his head, Alex waited for her reply. Zena searched for his mouth, but he drew back. "Tell me!"
Her mouth inches from his, Zena breathed softly, "Love me."
Ah—the needed words! Since when did he have so much principle?
"My pleasure to oblige, mademoiselle." The hushed whisper tickled her ear, and his mouth met hers in pleasurable response. He pulled her down on the fur-carpeted floor of the dressing room. He was smiling again as he commenced to oblige the sweet young miss. He kissed her throat, her breasts, her belly, and the insides of her thighs. He stroked her leisurely, delighting in each nuance of emotion he provoked. Under his sensitive, skillful mouth and hands waves of spreading desire inundated Zena's senses. Dextrous fingers brought her to a feverish pitch, his hands slid under her hips, and his mouth followed where his adroit fingers had toyed. Zena felt warm breath and a lightly teasing tongue on the very sear of her desire, and she shuddered convulsively, writhing slowly under the soft, flicking tongue as searing waves washed her to the very edges of ecstasy.
Zena pressed greedily against him, pleading with rapturous eyes, "Please, please don't make me wait."
Lifting his head, Alex chuckled indulgently. "Patience, my pet," he said as he covered her with his body but withheld his prize. Moving off her, he commanded, "Undress me."
Zena's eyes snapped open at the terse request. She shuddered slightly, shivering in exquisite torment, bringing herself back to full consciousness from the depths of her hot, flaming ardor. Sitting up slowly, she obediently reached out, still only half aware, to unbutton the prince's silk shirt and slip it from his muscular shoulders. She ran her fingertips over his broad chest, sliding delicately over the muscles of his torso.
An ache spread over Alex's body, and he caught his breath.
"Very dutiful, my little puss," he murmured huskily. Alex ran his fingers over her honeyed wet lips. Zena shuddered in ecstasy.
"Now my boots," and he stretched out his long legs.
Zena submissively knelt to remove Alex's brown riding boots. She was hungry for him. Just to touch him caused heated, pulsing waves to throb through her body. The sight of her full, swollen breasts bobbing and bouncing as she tugged and pulled on the tight-fitting footwear stirred Alex's penis to new dimensions. Finally the task was accomplished.
"My buckskins now, but first a reward for your efforts." Alex reached out and inserted two long fingers deep into her sweet passage. Zena groaned as small explosions began building, and the exquisite sensations ran through every screaming nerve.
"Almost there, my hot little piece?" Alex murmured triumphantly. "The buckskins now, love, and I'll be happy, as a dutiful host, to soon satisfy that yearning of yours."
Zena hastened to unfasten the buttons of his leather breeches and after some difficulty managed to slide the formfitting trousers off. Her heart was pounding against her ribs, and the fever in his veins seemed to be closing her throat. Alex's maleness sprang free, large, pulsing, and rigid, the erect phallus lying thick, arched, and hot-looking against his stomach.
Trembling in anticipation, Zena ran her hands lightly over Alex's hard body. "Love me, please, my lord, please."
"So bold now?" he teased.
Her hand slipped down and closed around his swollen manhood. He groaned. The teasing light was gone from his eyes, and twin flames glowed in their golden depths. Rolling Zena under him, his knee quickly spread her thighs, and in one economical gesture he plunged in boldly. The first powerful thrust sank in to its utmost length, and Zena screamed a piercing cry deep in her throat as Alex held himself firmly against her womb while her climax broke in crashing waves of blazing-hot passion from his inflamed, rigid shaft. When he could feel the convulsions subside, he shifted lightly inside her.
"Greedy little puss, haven't you ever heard of the delights of anticipation?" he whispered. "Hold me," he ordered as Zena's clinging grip had slackened on his back. "Hold me, little one, and you'll soon be screaming again." He smiled mildly as he slowly deepened his penetration. The prince was proud of his proficiency at pleasing women.
Slowly and with extreme care he restrained himself, driving in with long, slow movements, for he had learned at a very young age that the surest way to excite a woman's passion was with long, gentle thrusts and slow withdrawals. Zena's breath began to shorten, and she held Alex in a fierce embrace. She panted against his shoulder as every nerve thrilled and quivered. She melted against him, small and delicate in his arms, and his desire grew, grew in a different, more tender way—intense still, but gentle—and he moved inside her like a penetrating caress. His penis rose larger still as she became infinitely desirable to him. She felt the urgent force like a burning fire, and Zena opened herself to him, helpless before his powerful, assertive passion. He plunged deeper and deeper, touching the very center of her, and she clung to him, meeting his hunger. She clung with a terrible, consuming love for this unknown man until suddenly in a shuddering consummation they both blindly felt the blazing potency of bliss.
He didn't withdraw but lay still above her, kissing her gently. Her hands strayed lightly over him, still half-shy and sensitive to the wonder of his body and the tender power he held over her. He felt beautiful, and her heart cried out at the fragile loveliness he had given her. She fluttered her hands timorously down his back, feeling the play of hard muscle and the firmness of rib and flesh. He held her close and was silent as she softly explored him. She moved gently under him, pressing nearer to his incomprehensible sensual mystery. And then she felt it, the slow, surging stirring of his sexual desire, and all her newly felt passion reached out to him.
He was very patient; he had never been so patient, wanting to give the sweet miss the fullest pleasure as she learned the exquisite possibilities of her sexuality. Each slow stroke slid into her honeyed depth, and he rested against her arched pearl while her tumultuous passion grew. He was aching now and watched her as she drew near the edge. She hung on to him as if she were drowning. He felt a tremor in her belly, and she moaned a sound of helplessness against the coming storm. She was almost there. Her moan gave way to a soft cry of rapture, and he felt all his passion rushing down, rushing down as the throb of his groin pumped and poured the hot fluid into her.
Warm and sated with his exertion, he dropped a kiss on her lips, murmured softly, "Sweet, sweet, lovely puss."
Twenty minutes later he carried a very subdued beauty into the DACHA and up the stairway to the bedroom.
10
Unobtrusive servants, their features politely composed, efficiently cleared their master's progress, silently opening and shutting doors as Alex strode through the dacha carrying his houseguest.
Minutes later Alex reclined against the carved and painted headboard of his canopied bed, curving Zena into his arms. She snuggled her head against his shoulder, and he idly caressed her tumbled auburn curls. He lightly kissed the top of her head as he reflected that the Kuzan luck had indeed not deserted him, for how remote were the chances of finding such a delightful innocent flower of passion on the steps of the Dolgorouky palace in a snowstorm. Odds even he would decline to wager on, and he was notorious for betting on the most unfavorable percent
ages.
Stretching out his left arm, he groped in the darkened room for his August Hollming gold and enamel cigarette case on the bedside table. Finding it he flicked up the lid, extracting one of his custom-made blue silk cigarettes of harsh Turkish tobacco.
As he held it in his mouth while his fingers renewed the blind questing for matches, Alex muttered the obligatory courtesy, "Do you mind if I smoke?" Without waiting for an answer, a match flared in the dark, and Zena looked up to see his handsome dark features illuminated brilliantly in the flare of the phosphorus glow. He bent
slightly to touch cigarette to flame; looking down he noticed Zena's curious scrutiny and winked wickedly before waving out the match. As Alex drew a deep draught into his lungs, the burning tip glowed brilliant otange, the only light in the darkened room. He exhaled lazily, his fingers stroking Zena's arm as he held her against his chest. "Forgive my animal ways, little one. I hope I didn't hurt you," Alex apologized quietly.
"No, of course you didn't hurt me," Zena replied. "But you see, that is ... ah ..."
"Come, child," Alex interrupted with easygoing tranquillity, "don't worry about being tactful. Just tell me. But what?"
"Well, I will own to a certain apprehension that you'll think me too ready to respond. It's not considered ladylike."
Alex threw back his head and chuckled deeply. "It's quite acceptable, dushka, to leave ladylike ways at the bedroom door. Let me assure you, my pet, your eager responses are of unalloyed delight to me. In fact, I'm sure there isn't a single male on the face of the earth who would disagree. There's nothing you could do that would shock me, child."
Zena didn't know her seducer very well, or she wouldn't have been uneasy with apprehensions of unladylike behavior.