Page 3 of Unholy Matrimony

Leonid

I’m standing outside her door, and it’s fucking freezing outside! Bang. Bang. Bang. God, this woman better be ready to go. I bring my fist back to knock again, and the door flies open. The most breathtaking pair of blue eyes are glaring back at me. Even dressed modestly, she is a vision. Her creamy complexion grew rosy from the cold air, hitting her face. The dress she is wearing is a deep blue, the color in contrast with her ice-blue eyes is making my knees weak. She wears no makeup and I much prefer it that way.

In the months I have been watching her, she has worn none. Her natural beauty doesn't need it. Most of the women who throw themselves at me are caked in makeup. After a night of fucking, they look like completely different people. I hated it. Alina, my housekeeper has had to throw out so many towels and sheets from the makeup stains. I am sure she will appreciate this about Kalina.

“What the hell are you staring at?” Kalina asserts as she crosses her arms. She shivers slightly from the cool air that flows through the door. I had to snap myself back to reality and get this moving, otherwise, we would be late and I don’t need to hear shit from my father. He was already in a mood because of this stipulation I had added to his deal.

“Nothing,” I state as I push past her into the foyer. “We are already running late. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, but what about my parents and sister? Are they coming with us?”. She stares at the floor, not wanting to look at me. I'm not sure if she's repulsed or trying to be submissive, but I want her to look me in the eye.

I grip her chin and raise it gently so that our eyes meet, and I softly say, “They will come separately, but they will be there. I will promise you that. Despite your reluctance, I'll ensure they attend our wedding and other important occasions. I may be a wicked man, but now that you are mine, there is nothing I wouldn't do for you. Do you understand that? Ty samaya krasivaya zhenshchina, kotoruyu ya kogda-libo videl, samyy nezhnyy tsvetok. Mne ne terpitsya uvidet', kak ty rastsvetayesh' pod moim prikosnoveniyem.1” The look of suspicion on Kalina’s face tells me she doubts my words. I let go of her chin, and I motion to all the coats to which she pointed to the one that's hers. I take it from the hook and hold it out to put it on her. She slips into it, adjusts, and starts buttoning it up. Her eyes look me up and down. I would kill to know what she is thinking at this moment. Seeing her luggage sitting on the bench, I grab it.

Kalina shouts to her family that she is leaving and she will meet them there. I am already down the front steps and waiting. I don't need to see her family right now. I don't need the judgemental stares or the anger I know her father must be harboring. He wasn’t happy that I had my eyes set on his daughter, though he didn’t put up much of a fight. She quickly rushes down the steps after closing the door. The last step is covered in ice and as she steps down, she slips and flings forward, about to smack head-first into the walkway. “Vot der'mo! 2” She cries out.

I pivot, grab her by the shoulders, and plant her firmly on the pavement. "They should maintain these steps better during the winter months!" I growled. “You could have hurt yourself!” The heat of anger flares across my face. Kalina looks to the ground, her body tense from my words.

Tak Tak Tak3, we will have to change that. I don’t want my soon-to-be wife to fear me.

“Mne zhal'4 We haven't had outdoor care here in a while. My father said that he could do it himself to save some money. That has not gone very well. My mama constantly has to tell him to do things.”

“I am not angry with you, Kalina.” I say to her, softening my voice, “That is dangerous and it could not only have hurt you, but someone else.” Not that I particularly care about other people, but I would have been upset if it were myself or my father… hell, even if it was her mother or sister. All because her father was being cheap and lazy.

I held out my arm to her, motioning for her to take it and she did, but with hesitation. I pat her hand as we walk out the front gate to the waiting car. I open the car door for her and she settles inside as I put her bag in the trunk.

Once inside the car, I nodded to the twins and we set off. The church is only a 15-minute drive from the Nikolov home, so I think we will still make it there in time to have a few moments to ourselves before we have to go inside. I hate the silence, so I turn toward her and say, “I am sorry if yesterday ruined your meal. Your mother mentioned that you had been home all day preparing for Maslentisa. I have to admit that I am not very strict with the church calendar and don’t follow the fast very well. Am I right to assume you do?”

She nods. “I do, and I do not intend to change that. I follow all the recommendations of the church. If I am going to be forced into this life with you, I will expect my new home to reflect my values, not just yours.”

She speaks with such purpose, and it makes my heart skip. As much as her father promised her meekness, he didn’t let on that she was strong in her convictions. I have a feeling she will be fun to watch unravel. She has never known the touch of a man, so she is going to be so tight and wound up. My eyes drift up and down her body, wondering how perfect it is under the full-coverage dress.

She catches me staring, and her cheeks flush a rosy red. I smirk and lean in so only she can hear “Moy prekrasnyy Tsvetok5. Does my appreciation of your body make you uncomfortable? Soon I will know what you sound like when you come. Soon you’ll cry out for God, but it will be for me. Ty budesh' moyey khoroshey devochkoy, malyshka?6”

Her breath quickens and I glance down just as she clenches her thighs together. A deep growl comes from my chest. I pull myself back to sitting upright.

Keep it together Lenya, you need to hold off until after the wedding. Can’t make her love you if you force yourself on her.

The car pulls up to the enormous cathedral, and Ilya turns around to face us. “If you are done flirting. You can get out here and we will go find somewhere to park the car. We will be in shortly,” motioning to his brother. I open my door and quickly race around to Kalina’s door to open it. The door creaks as it opens, and I hold out my hand for her. She takes it and I hoist her up from the seat.

Adjusting her dress and making sure her platok is still in place, she walks ahead of me. I let out a stifled breath, knowing that she wanted to get far away from me after that moment in the car. She probably doesn't want the thought of me being intimate with her to make her more nervous before the long service. Smirking, I take the steps two at a time to reach her.

Before she can reach the door, I pull her back and spin her around. “Chto?7 I am going to lose my favorite spot if I am any later.” I shake my head.

Such a pious little thing. Still flustered from the car, I think she might even be angry.

“Moy prekrasnyy Tsvetok8, If someone is in your precious spot, I will move them myself. Remember, Kalina, not a word about this little arrangement to anyone. Not even your favorite babushka. I would hate to have to punish you.” Kalina snorts.

Lord help me, she is going to test me and then I will have to take her over my knee here on the steps.

I linger a bit too long on the thought of hiking up that dress and spanking her ass. Shaking my head, I look at her and she is rolling her eyes. “Leonid, I will say nothing. I am not stupid. Oh, and if we are to play this off as if we are a happy couple wanting to get engaged…don't call me Kalina. It's too formal. You can call me Lina. What can I call you?”

“Too soon for Papochka 9?” I chuckle.

Eyes wide, she crosses herself and says “Lord have mercy!”

“Okay, don’t have a heart attack Tsvetok10. Lenya. You can call me Lenya.”

Opening the doors and walking inside brings back so many memories of my Mama. Before she died, she would take me every Saturday night and Sunday morning for Liturgy. She tried to get me to serve as an altar boy, but I was just too much trouble for Fr. Ireni to handle. My father never came, unless it was Pascha or Christmas. Cancer took her from me at fifteen, and for a while after, I would still go. It's where I felt closest to her. Fr. Ireni tried to help me with my grief, but what he said would just make me angrier.