12. Katya

“We’ve eaten. Let’s go.” He says as he stands and takes my hand, walking fast out of the restaurant.

I’d think we were running out on the bill if I didn’t know better. “Where are we going?”

Yuri is leading me down a narrow staircase, then outside and down a hill that leads to a small lake.

“Stop asking questions. We’re going somewhere you’ll like. Both of us will like. Desert.”

He leads me to a small cabin overlooking the lake.

“Do you know Banya, it’s Russian,” he asks me.

“I don’t know any Russian—apart from ‘kiska’, maybe a few other words here and there. I never learned. Dmitry was taught, I wasn’t.”

“You didn’t need to know. I get it,” he growls and pulls me by the wrist.

“Where are you taking me?”

"Banya," he growled.

"What?"

"Bath."

"I usually take showers."

He stopped, his scowl slipped off and he nearly smiled, "No. Banya. Russian baths. You don't know but you'll learn," he said and pulled me towards the lake. Two cabins stood next to the lake, a small one, then a larger one half built over the lake like a boathouse. He opened the door to the smaller one and pushed me in.

There was a robe and next to it a pair of towels and sitting on the towels was a wool hat shaped like a bell.

"Undress," he said.

He picked up the hat and set it down on me, if not for the curls it would have swallowed my head. "Maybe the second towel would be better for you." He pointed to the long cabin. "Dress and meet me there. Don't make me come get you," he slammed the slim door behind him.

I stood back from the bench with what I was supposed to wear, staring at them. I slipped my top off and slipped the towel on without removing my bra. It was skin color, he wouldn't even notice. I stripped down to my panties and surprised that they matched. I wrapped the robe around me and walked up to the longer cabin.

I stepped into the warm suffocating steam. My curls frizzed almost immediately, and I could just make out the mat with slippers piled up on it. I shook mine off and walked forward into the mist.

The room was wood-paneled, and the lights were a yellowish glow, it took my eyes some time to adjust.

It was much larger than it looked from outside. The steam room was a long tunnel, room for twenty people, then glass doors opening in the back. I didn't see anybody in here.

My eyes squinted, then I heard Yuri yell, “Kiska, here,” he was behind me, behind where the door had opened, he had been watching me.

He sat naked on the lower bench, resting against the upper bench.

His legs were crossed, my eyes immediately went there, but he was covered by his crossed legs. I tried not to stare, but he leaned back, the muscles of his back creating a V leading to his torso and below.

He stood up and walked towards me, and I couldn't help but look, my eyes went to his face out of modesty, and I turned around, but not before I got a good, tantalizing look.

"I really don't need steam, I'll go to the bath while you steam,"

"Stop.Quiet.Turn around."

I stood still, my stomach fluttering, feeling the steam and the heat.

"Turn around, do not make me ask again."

I did as I was told, and turned to face him, a smirk broke out on his lips, "Good. So you don't always disobey." He looked me up and down and grabbed the cuff of my robe, "You don't need this," he said as he began to untie me. I tensed up and tried to step back, but he had the ends of the bow and the lapels of the robe in his hands, the fabric stretched as far as it could, less than an inch. His grip tethered me to him.

He paused while I accepted it, there was no getting away. I relaxed and stopped testing how far the fabric would stretch, he slowly opened my robe.

"Nyet, no." He said and shook his head. "You wear your underwear?" He moved to strip me, and I recoiled again, out of his grasp this time.

"Okay, you'll boil in here, have it your way." He turned around and walked back to the bench, he moved with power, like a cat, the muscles writhed beneath his skin stretched over them.

I watched him as he bent to pick up a ladle, and poured water on the stones, filling the space between us with thick mist again. He sat and waited for me. "Come," he commanded from behind the curtain of steam.

I move towards him.

“I told you not to touch yourself. Did you listen or did you disobey me?”

My face heats with my blush, “What?”

He keeps his stormy gray eyes locked on mine, “I asked if you touch yourself despite my telling you not to.”

I don’t answer him at all. I consider ‘fuck you,’ but I don’t.

“Nothing to say.? You think your silence can’t be held against you?” he grins. His voice coarsens, vibrating the hot, wet air between us. “Stand in front of me.”

Before I realize what’s happening, I find myself walking towards him, through that wall of mist separating us. He sits there, glistening with sweat, his muscles relaxed, but his eyes hawk-like, alert, gray as sun-faded concrete.

His staring was uncomfortable, so blatant, so indiscreet, so bold. "What now?" I asked, and he looked up at me, like he was waking from a dream.

“Now we sweat." He said and closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the wall behind him. I studied him, his skin almost pink now in the heat, his muscles relaxed, the clefts between his shoulders and neck had what looked like stars on them, with eight points, made of knives, done in a cheap India ink, bluish purple.

“Remove your robe.”

“Yuri...”

“Take it off,” he growls. There’s a promise in his voice that if I don’t, he will.

I slowly move my hands to the knot I tied in the robe’s belt, holding it together. I untie it and let the robe fall naturally. It still covers me, just the split showing the area between my breasts, my stomach, and the area between my legs in shadows.

He studies me for a while, his eyes going up and down the slit in the robe. Finally, he starts talking in a rough voice, “Now turn around and slide the robe down off your shoulders and all the way to the floor.”

I turn and slowly shrug the robe off my shoulders.

“Face me.”

I turn, as he says and when I see him, he has his cock in his hand, stroking it. I’ve never been so turned on in my life, the hungry look in his eyes, the savagery of stroking his cock while looking me straight in the eye. I have no idea what to do, I just want. Want him, inside me, right away. But I know he’s going to stretch this moment out as long as I can possibly stand.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he says in a ragged, heavy voice. “Now.”

I do exactly what he says. It’s unbelievable he can make me so weak, so eager to please him. I push those thoughts away and let my hand slowly creep down to the heat and wetness below my waist. Yuri is stroking his cock, watching me all the time.

When my finger reaches my clit, I want to moan, want to fall to my knees but I try to be cool, I close my eyes and feel the electricity going off all over my body.

“Good girl,” he says heavily. “Now, come closer to me.”

I walk forwards, my eyes slightly open, aware I’m walking towards his stiff cock, and he closes his knees, pulling my forward so I’m aligned with his cock, and he pulls my hips down as he opens his knees, giving me a seat on his knees and his cock.

I can feel the wet, hot tip against my entrance, and he pulls my hips further down, giving me an inch, then another.

I want it all, right now.

“Oh please,” escapes my lips.

He stops, inside me two inches, he holds my hips steady as they try to roll; to take more of him but he won’t let me. The bastard is teasing me again.

“You want me to beg, okay. Please give me the rest of your cock. Right. Fucking. Now.” I say and can’t believe the harshness in my voice.

He chuckles, “As you wish my dear kiska,” and he pulls me down on him as I open my legs to straddle him and get as deep as possible and I hold onto his neck, waiting.

“What now, my dear? You want to be in charge, right?”

“Fuck me.”

He moves his hand from my hip and grabs the back of my head, twisting and tangling it up in my hair, pulling my head to his neck.

“Ask nicely,” he whispers in my ear.

This fucking guy.

“Please,” I hiss.

“Anything for you.”

His hands back on my hips, he bounces me on him, up and down, smooth, slow strokes. I’m not capable of speaking now, my skin is on fire as he bounces me on his cock, lifting me effortlessly and letting gravity do the rest. His mouth found my breast somehow, and he licks and nips and the hot and cold of his breath in and out is making me breath heavy.

All I can feel is him, his tongue on my breast, his fingers on both my hips, his thighs on the back of my legs.

His thumb rubs against my clit as he’s bouncing me on his cock and that’s all it takes to come, my body tensing over his and my face biting down on his neck. My arms pull him to me as hard as I can and like that, tensing against him, he stands up and keeps bouncing me on his cock until I’m done with the orgasm. Then he swiftly pulls me off him and stands me up, pushing my shoulders down as I bend my knees and kneel in front of him.

“Now, Katya, open your mouth for me.”

I’m still on autopilot, doing everything he says and his hard cock is in my mouth, I taste myself and him comingled as he holds the back of my head on him, pulling my mouth in and out around his cock, faster and faster until his body tenses and his haggard voice groans out, “I’m coming, take all of me,”

A moment later I feel the warm cum shoot down the back of my throat as he relaxes his grip on my head and he falls backwards to sit on the bench again, looking at me through hazy warm satisfied gray eyes.

Yuri says, “Let's go cool off.” He grabs my wrist pulling me up, and dragging me towards a door to out left, pulling me into his side and pushing open the door revealing the lake below, he jumps without hesitation, bringing me with him.

The shock of the cold water forces a yelp from me and wakes me up from the steam-and-sex-induced daze. I immediately felt awake, energized and pissed at Yuri for surprising me like this.

He just laughs, a boisterous, rollicking laugh that echo off the lake. He lifts me in his arms and out of the water, back up the stairs into the steam room.

"Russian bath," he said, smiling ear to ear at me.

"Banya," I say back. “What’s Russian for asshole?”