ostavil | open post

Natalia gave a little lurch when Nikolai lowered his head and slipped his tongue between her lips; she whimpered at the feel of his lips on hers. Her senses began to reel, and from somewhere way down her body, she realized that the warmth emanating from beneath her shirt was Nikolai's hand, gliding so slowly along her smooth, heated skin.

Yes, he'd touched her body before, and often, but in this context, even the simplest caress seemed so much more profound. Natalia licked gently at his lips, panting softly when their mouths parted, but was only too eager to dive back into their sweet, slow kisses, coiling her tongue with Nikolai's in fulfillment of her most wanton dreams come true.

Nikolai rocks against her, letting her feel how hard he's getting for her, and slips that hand up higher, cupping her breast. It's not as scandalous as it could be with a bra in the way but it's enough for right now. He can't give her too much at once or she'll be overwhelmed. It's important to make this go slow but let her know that he most certainly wants her - because there is nothing he wants more than her.

He slides his mouth from hers and whispers against her neck, just soft words, and kisses a line down to her collar. This is much more adult than a simple kiss and he'd wanted to show her how good kissing could be. How good he could be for her, because of her, in service to her.

The princess's head was already spinning as she floated along on the ocean of sensations currently flowing beneath her skin. But she squeaked softly when that large hand settled rather possessively over her breast; she hadn't bothered with any undergarments after her shower, opting to sleep (or whichever) in comfort.

The nipple hardened immediately in response to his touch, and thank goodness Nikolai had moved his mouth from hers to kiss down the slope of her throat, because Natalia had to gasp a few soft but deep breaths just to keep from flying right apart. She felt him between her legs too, an insistent pressure, and the drag of his body against her tender skin was electrifying.

The girl buried her hands in her soldier's thick hair, clutching at him tightly as she squirmed and panted, her back arching into his touch and her hips beginning to roll in rhythm with his own sinful movements.

"Had no idea you didn't have anything on under here," Nikolai gasps out, shocked himself. It makes this entirely too fast for his tastes, too much for right now, but his hand is there and his mouth is there and what is he going to do? Pull away and run away to the shower?

"This is too much for right now," he murmurs, even as his hand cups a full breast. He doesn't touch her nipple as much as he wants to and captures her mouth in another long kiss so he doesn't have to say anything. He snaps his hips against her sharply, letting her feel him.

"Warn me next time," he says, pulling back to look into her eyes. "That's important, Natalia. I have to know what I'm getting into. You didn't know this time and that's fine but...underwear next time."

She managed to unscramble enough of her coherence to attempt an answer, but before she could, Nikolai was kidding her again, making her moan into his mouth even as his tongue invaded her mouth with all the possessiveness she'd ever before felt. It was enough to push her head back against the pillows, and she gave another little lurch and a high squeal when he shoved his hips between her legs, sending fireworks bursting down in her loins.

"...Nikki," Natalia finally managed to pant, gazing up at him with glazed, dazed eyes. "...'m...I'm...sorry..." But he was still hot, hard, and heavy above her, and the girl could only hike her knees a little higher and squeeze his hips with her thighs, trying to sate this burning ache that had blossomed down below the pit of her stomach.

Nikolai kisses her one last time, softer and more gentle, and slips his hand from under her shirt before rolling back onto his back. He's out of breath more out of a psychological feeling than a physiological one; what's a romp in bed to a super soldier?

"I'm going to go take a shower. You haven't done anything wrong," he says softly, firmly. "But you affect me the same as I affect you. I have to...well, I'm sure you know what I'm about to go do. It's not something you can be around for right now. I'll be back after a little while, all right? I'm not leaving you."

Still dazed, Natalia slowly swam up from the river of lust she'd been drowning in, realizing that Nikolai was pulling away, seemingly as out of breath and disorientated as she was. Her body immediately mourned his loss, and the little princess could only lie there, sprawled, trying to regain her bearings.

She pouted in sheer reflex when she heard him say he was going for yet another shower, and the implication hit her right when he'd actually left the room, and Natalia felt her entire body flush a deep scarlet, realizing just why he was leaving her, this time.

God.

But she herself felt...sticky, and her skin was still damp with a slight sheen of sweat. Perhaps a brief rubdown with a wet cloth wasn't entirely out of purview, for herself. With a sigh, for what she wasn't entirely sure, the Grand Duchess forced herself up and out of bed, heading in the opposite direction for her own bathroom.

Nikolai takes a long shower, leaning back against the wall to wrap his hand around his cock and relieve the pressure that had built up while he'd been kissing and touching Natalia. He thinks about what it would have been like to get his mouth on that firm, full breast of hers and how it would feel to be in her.

When he comes, he makes more noise than he wants and he hopes the rush of the water covers it up. He slides back into his boxers and towels his hair so it's damp instead of dripping wet and comes back into the room where Natalia is staying.

"Natalia? You're not changing, are you?"

She was still in the bathroom, hunting for something to wear other than her former shirt and shorts. She needed her flannels, despite the heat of the islands, because covering all of her skin right now seemed the wiser course. He'd only touched her for a few minutes before needing relief, so she had to be careful about rousing those sorts of feeling in her soldier. She didn't want him to feel...bad, like he needed to constantly leave, whenever he touched her.

Natalia finally found an old set of pajamas beneath the bathroom counter; they were a little snug, but still fitted relatively well. She hauled on a thick bathrobe too, before opening the door and emerging back into her bedroom. The sight that greeted her nearly made her want to flee back into the bathroom, to avoid the damning temptation that gazed at her with concern in those beautiful blue eyes.

"...I did, da. It's...it's fine. Better." But she was still the Grand Duchess of Imperial Russia, so she set her jaw and padded softly and quickly back to her bed, carefully curling up on the corner and closing her eyes tightly, but the sight of Nikolai just then was of course burned into her retinas, giving her no respite from the sheer want still plaguing her gut.

Nikolai sees her on the corner and curled up in her bathrobe and he shakes his head. This isn't what he'd meant to cause. He'd meant to tell her that she affected him as much as he affects her, that it's so very mutual. He had hoped it would make her feel good about herself.

"Printsessa, please be comfortable," he murmurs. "Curling up with you doesn't put me in pain or anything. I would be upset if you didn't want me to hold you and love you."

He gives her a soft smile. "I told you so that you'd know how much I want you. Not to hurt you."

"But...I have to take care of you," she insisted, keeping her eyes closed. "And...I don't want to make you uncomfortable, especially if we're doing...that." He was her responsibility, after all.

"...I don't want you to have to leave, whenever we're...you know." She wanted him to hold her and love her more than anything else in the world. But not at any expense. That was truly the last thing she'd ever want.

"--you say that you want me," she heard herself just blurt right out, "...but then you...don't." Natalia gave a heavy sigh, sitting up and crossing her legs Indian-fashion, tucking her hands in the sleeves of her robes.

"Maybe we shouldn't, Nikolai," she suggested, staring at the floor. "Since it seems to just...cause problems."

Nikolai sighs a little and sits beside her, rubbing his palm over her neck and back. He doesn't want her to feel tortured over this like she's done something wrong. He just wants things to go slow for her benefit, that's all, and they'll get there eventually.

"I do want you. I could fuck you right now," Nikolai points out. "But it would make me an asshole and I'm not going to be that man to you, Natalia. I want to go slow in case there's something you...if we did everything at once and you regretted it, I would never forgive myself."

She wished he would believe her when she insisted that she'd never want anyone else, just him. But Natalia could also understand Nikolai's hesitation; it was the 'meeting-in-the-middle' that was driving the both of them insane. She didn't pull away when he came to sit beside her, letting him soothe her as only he could.

Hearing that, again, he did want her, and could prove it right here and now rekindled a little spark in her belly, sending a rush of heat through her blood to flush her skin a pretty pink. Natalia whispered Nikolai's name right before crawling right into his lap, her knees straddling his hips and her arms winding possessively around his thick neck.

The girl immediately covered his mouth with hers, the thick terrycloth between them abrasive, but necessary.

Nikolai accepts the kiss for a moment and then he pulls away, his own eyes a little startled. He hadn't expected that exactly and goddamn, how is he going to keep going slow if she keeps doing this? How is she going to just...get him this way?

"Natalia," he says, firmer this time. "When I say slow, I mean slow. We kissed earlier. We'll kiss later. But right now, we're not kissing. You deserve more than me tossing you down onto this bed and fucking you like any other woman. You deserve for me to ease you into it, which I'm trying to do. I'm giving you things as we go on, I am, but you have to trust me."

She jerked back as if he'd struck her, eyes wide. Then a frown creased her brow, and Natalia abruptly left Nikolai's lap, sliding out of the damned bathrobe and flinging it on her bed before whirling in a flash of red hair and storming out of the room.

The princess stalked the hallways, fuming and angrier than she'd ever been in her entire life. She wasn't used to this roil of feelings that had been roller-coastering her up and down the last few weeks, and she didn't know how to handle them. She wanted Nikolai. Wanted him. As a lover, as a Consort, when it came to that.

But the man was being so damned impossible just now. And the logical part of her young mind understood that, but the impetuous, hormone-driven teenage part didn't care. Too well-bred to just scream her burning anger to the ceiling and wave her arms and rant, the Grand Duchess ended up in a large wing chair on the first floor's open terrace, arms crossed as she stared dark and moody out over the lagoon, the beauty of the setting sun lost on her ire.

It takes him a few minutes to get fully dressed again and a good twenty more to find out where the printsessa has stalked off to. It was handled badly, even if he needed to say it, and when he finds her he has his head down and palms spread wide. Contrition and absolution now, he thinks, before they discuss the meat of it.

"Are you still angry with me, Natalia?"

Nikolai carefully doesn't use a pet name, lest she think it's patronizing, and watches her carefully. Bruising her ego in a time like this isn't a good idea.

She wasn't too surprised when Nikolai appeared, and in just the time she'd allotted him to dress and search the rest of the house. He approached and spoke, and she sensed the softness of his tone and the submission in his posture, but she kept her gaze on the far horizon, not even trusting herself to look at him just now.

"Yes," she stated coolly, because it was the truth. "I am." But she was also angry with herself, for being so pathetic and needy, and that was a hard lesson to teach oneself. She still felt petulant and childish, and it was infuriating, because she knew better.

"But I am angry with myself, too." As always whenever her emotions ran high, her voice took on the edge of her native land, becoming clipped and a bit more guttural than her carefully practiced English. "You should go. I will be fine. Eventually."

"I should have protected you from me," Nikolai says quietly. "And I didn't. So you deserve every bit of anger and hatred you have for me right now. I'll go and when you need me again, you know where I am."

Nikolai is still her guard, after all, and he still has to sleep in the room that is alongside hers. It's been nominal for years since he's been sharing her bed to keep their nightmares away but right now, he does have to use the adjoining room and keep his ear to the ground to ensure her safety.

Ohhh-! Natalia suddenly jerked up out of her chair, threw her unruly curls back over her shoulder, whirled around, and stomped one Imperial foot in a rare display of pure Cossack temper.

"Nikolai Aleksandrovich, don't you dare walk out of that door! Your Imperial Princess has not given you permission to leave her presence!" It was exquisitely rare that the Grand Duchess ever use the royal "We", but she was too upset, sad, and angry to do otherwise.

Speaking thus allowed her to step outside of her own personal wants, and she used the tone well, along with the defiant tilt of her chin, and the stern set of her brow and mouth. She was just hovering between childhood and adulthood, and it was such a confusing place to be!

That is no tone to trifle with and instead of leaving, Nikolai drops to one knee instead and keeps his head bowed. For all that they pretend to be equals while spending time together, they aren't, and this is the reason they'll never be the same.

"Imperial Printsessa, forgive me. I did not mean to remove myself without your express permission. What would her Excellency want of me?"

It's been so long that he's had to do this, not since he first came to serve in the Tsar's household, but he hasn't forgotten how. It'd been drilled into him before being released from his previous captors just how he was to behave in the home of his new ones.

It broke her heart, to see him immediately drop to a knee and lower his head in abject deference, but she had to make him understand that she meant what she was going to say. So she steeled her spine, parked her chin parallel with the floor, and spoke in that same hard tone.

"It has come to Our attention that the Grand Duchess's education is lacking a rather serious course of study. Therefore, We have tasked you, Nikolai, to remedy this oversight. You are therefore required to educate Her Highness in all matters of...of..." Here she groped slightly, but rallied on nevertheless. "...of intimacy and everything thereof adjacent. The Grand Duchess will adhere to your protocols on this matter, if strict rules and a lesson outline are provided before commencement."

Now, Natalia's eyes narrowed. "And We will hear no more of this self-depreciation from you, Nikolai Aleksandrovich. I trust that is quite clear?"

"So that's it, then?" Nikolai asks, lifting his head. "A girl's game? Do you know what happens to me if I displease you or your father? Do you know where they send me if I disgrace the Imperial House of Romanov? Do you know what they told me when I came here, how I was to act, how I was to take every order?"

He inhales sharply and shakes his head. "I'm sure you don't. They would put me in the ice again if I did anything to make you angry or upset. If I were spoken to like this by you or your father I was supposed to expect it. You would play upon my fear for a game? I'm not your toy, Grand Duchess."

Except that he is and while his face is defiant, he's still kneeling on the floor.

His response made her blink, completely taken aback. Then she frowned at him, thinking he could be mocking her, even if that was thoroughly unlikely. "What?" So surprised was she that she automatically lapsed back into English. "No--Nikolai, that's not--what are you talking about?"

As if she'd ever let her father take him away! "You know I'd never let anyone do that to you, Nikolai!" Her brows drew down even farther. "You belong to me, and no one else!" And that he thought her tirade just some girlish, silly...game stung her even harder.

"Did I sound like I was dictating a game to you, Nikolai? I was absolutely serious, and telling you that way was just to make you listen, since you didn't seem to want to otherwise!" Again, she stomped a small foot, hands balled in to fists at her sides. "I'm not a child anymore! And I don't want you to treat me like one!"

"And your family showed me I was allowed to be a man with my own thoughts and not a slave dictated by the thoughts and whims of others," Nikolai says back. "But instead of listening to me the way a woman should listen to a man and vice versa, you ordered me to bed you under Imperial edict. I was wrong, yes, but do you see how what you did was wrong too?"

Nikolai swallows and balls his left hand into a fist. "Before I came here, I was told to do everything you and your father said. If you'd been an adult then and ordered me to your bed, I would have done it just to keep myself from the ice out of fear. Ordering me to bed you makes me feel like I have to do it or suffer consequences. It doesn't allow me the freedom of my own choices to say yes or no. Do you see that?"

Hearing it thrown back at her that way brought her up short. And she couldn't help the sheen of humiliated tears that threatened to spill over as she realized exactly what she had done. Her temper abruptly evaporated, leaving the Grand Duchess of Imperial Russia standing there in her old flannel pajamas, feeling like an absolute fool.

Her hands relaxed, falling limp at her sides, and Natalia suddenly lowered her head, feeling chastised and ashamed. She started to speak, no words came, and then she abruptly closed her mouth, shaking her head so that her long hair hid her face from him.

"...Ni-Nikki..." But she couldn't go any further; she felt the weight of guilt hit her like a ton of bricks, and a small, hitched sob managed to escape before she pressed a hand over her mouth, biting at her fingers to keep from crying out loud. She'd been a childish idiot, a shameful, brazen harlot, and she'd cut to the core one of the only men she'd ever in her young life loved.

It took all of the strength she possessed, but Natalia did eventually manage to make the briefest eye contact with the soldier still kneeling on the floor, and whisper, "...I'm sorry," in broken Russian, before she turned and ran off of the terrace towards the beach, hating the feel of her own skin right now.

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