Chapter 28

For over two weeks Colonel Nikolai Koulikov of the 284^th Rifle Division kept up the nightmare job of uncovering all of the atrocities committed at Syrets Labour Camp. He dug through files just as judiciously as he helped his stalwart and loyal group of mechanics delve about discovering yet more pits full of burnt – and unburnt - corpses. Some pits had not even been covered up properly in the Nazis’ hurry to leave the place before they were overrun by Soviet troops. The stench was appalling, even in the cold winter air, and Nikolai hated going home at night stinking as he did of death and corruption. But all Rivka did was silently help him out of his clothes, put him into a hot bath and slowly, lovingly, wash away the horrors of the day.

At night he lay shivering, awake, wide-eyed with revulsion at what he had witnessed. Sometimes even Rivka’s touch could not calm him and he would rise from their warm bed and slip next door to the cosy nursery. There he would sit and watch his son slumber, and often Rivka, missing his reassuring bulk next to her in bed, would find him curled up in his big chair with Vasha snuggled against his broad chest. Both of them would be sound asleep. She would smile, cover them both in a quilt, and leave them be.

But nearly three weeks into the job, Nikolai was called into General Chekurda’s office and told his recruits for the sniping school would be arriving in two days. He could leave Syrets in the hands of another officer, a prim but inscrutably honest young Lieutenant who could finish off the final work with alacrity.

Chekurda was impressed with Nikolai’s dedication and deadly efficiency, and his tenacity in the face of the NKVD, ever-present in the background. The spare little General nodded shrewdly to himself, told Nikolai he would get some sort of recognition for his work, and let the big soldier breath a sigh of relief at being reassigned.

Nikolai went home that night in a lighter mood than he had been in for over a month, ever since his arrival in Kiev. When he got home he found his wife in the kitchen attempting to remove stubborn stains from her precious stove. He pulled Rivka into his arms, making her wriggle as she tried to keep her grubby hands and arms away from his uniform, but he just hugged her tighter, growling and mock-nipping her neck, Rivka giggling like a schoolgirl. Vasha, sitting happily in his makeshift pen – built from a left-over packing case that had once contained the engine for a T34 tank – burbled cheerfully at the antics of his parents ... until his papa dropped Rivka back onto her feet and swept his son into his grasp, whirling him around until Vasha was breathless with laughing.

That night he talked cheerfully at supper, and after Vasha was snug in his bed Nikolai sat with his wife in his lap in the old, cosy living room and listened to music, the fire glowing warmly in the grate and the lights flickering low. Rivka snuggled against his chest, occasionally kissing him tenderly as they sat. But soon the kisses became more urgent, more insistent, hands roaming and unbuttoning ... and they made love there and then, their bodies only bared enough to gain access to one another in their mutual urgency and need, entwined on the huge old sofa. At the end, as Rivka straddled him and Nikolai gasped and arched beneath her, she cried out, his own deep groan of release joining her call in the shadowed comfort of the room. As the last throes of her climax flooded her she fumbled for his hand and laid it on her belly, low down, near the place of their joining.

"Feel it, Niko ... feel your seed flow in me ... here ... oh God, just here ... the heat ... oh love, the heat of you inside me ..."

And Nikolai Koulikov, deep in his own passion, felt the throb of her around him and rejoiced.

****************

Nikolai’s students arrived promptly two days later, assembling at headquarters and settling down to learn in an old warehouse at the railway station. Nikolai soon relaxed back into his teaching, and as the weeks passed, he settled into a comfortable routine. At last he was doing something he enjoyed ... something at which he excelled. His students were older this time, seasoned soldiers, many of whom had front-line experience. Nikolai discovered they had suggestions, ideas, questions about this situation or that, keen to make a contribution to the day, knowing it could save their lives at some point in the very near future.

At home, Rivka soon whipped their new home into shape. Rations were readily available and what she couldn’t get with ease, she bartered for with the supply officers, who were often appreciative of the repairs she made in battered uniforms or the little luxury of a home-made fruit cake or mug of broth.

She also made sure she visited her friends the mechanics of number 7 Motor Pool attached to the Engineers, now ensconced in their new home – a roomy, if somewhat wrecked, garage near headquarters. Corporal Ivan Grigorvich Nikitin was soon on the mend, and he was recuperating nicely in one of the grim hospital wards when Rivka called in to see him.

She was wandering along the corridor towards the ward when she heard raised voices. One was instantly familiar – Nikitin was having an argument with someone, a woman, from the sound of it.

"... and why the bloody hell didn’t you write, you silly old cow? Frightened the hell out of me, so you did!! I thought them bloody Nazi arses had sent you to one of those frigging camps - "

"Now don’t you swear at me, my lad!!! That’s no way to talk to me after all these years!! Show me some bloody respect - " The voice was rough, but undoubtedly feminine.

Rivka’s eyebrows raised and she shifted Vasha on her hip, settling him more firmly against her. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and marched into the ward.

Nikitin was sitting in a chair beside his bed, looking remarkably well considering his somewhat fragile condition when he had arrived in the hospital some weeks previously. Sitting beside him, her plump behind nestled firmly on the bed, was the smallest, grubbiest, most disreputable old woman Rivka had ever seen in her life. She looked like a particularly messy bundle of rags with a head on top. Nikitin caught sight of Rivka and turned an indignant face to greet her.

"Missus!!!! Missus, will you tell this daft old bitch that she should have let me know she was all right??" he turned to the old woman, his dark eyes sparking. "You listen to the Missus now, she’ll tell you - "

Rivka blinked for a moment, then frowned.

"Ivan, I shall do no such thing! Anyway, I think we should be introduced before I start saying anything defamatory, don’t you??"

Both Nikitin and the old woman looked slightly abashed at this, and the little sergeant had the grace to blush.

"Yes ... well ... I s’pose so. Missus Koulikova, this is Missus Nikitin – me old mum."

Rivka caught the old woman’s gaze, and was stunned to see the bright intelligence and warmth emanating from her button-black eyes. The old lady got to her feet, showing an agility and sprightliness belying her age.

"Just call me Ma, dearie – everyone does! Ooooh, and this must be the little fellow my Ivan’s been prattling on about!" She chucked Vasha’s nose with a grimy finger, and the little boy chortled happily, reaching out for the old woman. Ma Nikitin looked up at Rivka, her face alight with pleasure. "Can I have the little man for a while, dearie? It’s been such a long time since I held a little bobbin like this one! Ohhh, isn’t he just a little duckling?"

The ‘little duckling’ in question shrieked with delight as Rivka let him slip into Ma Nikitin’s grasp, and the little woman cradled him like a piece of precious china, cooing gently. Rivka, suddenly and unexpectedly relieved of her son, found herself at a loss. Ma sat back down on the bed and instantly forgot about Nikitin, who glared up at Rivka.

"Honestly – look at her! Daft as a brush when it comes to kiddies. Always has been, the addled old witch! Still," he added, a small smile quirking his lips, "it’s good to see her again. I thought them bastard Germans had got hold of her, so I did. But no – she’s a survivor, so she is!" He let the infant smile widen into a relieved grin, all of his anger now gone.

Rivka wordlessly found herself a chair and sat down, looking from Nikitin to his ‘old mum’, who dandled Vasha on her knee and was obviously as enamoured of him as Nikitin was. She was also skilled in the ways of handling small children, as Vasha burped noisily and Ma cradled him against her ample bosom, patting and rocking. Vasha grasped hold of her grimy shawl and Rivka had to smile, although she fervently hoped the shawl – and Ma’s other apparel – wasn’t infested with fleas. Still, Vasha had been exposed for months to grubby mechanics, a vermin-riddled city and none-too-clean barracks, so she was pretty sure he could come to no harm. As her Great Aunt Lou had always said ... "A wee bit of dirt never hurt a body."

She leaned over and touched Nikitin’s arm, and the little man turned shining eyes to her.

"Me old mum, Missus … she made it. She hid in a cellar, just like you, and the bastards didn’t touch her! Bloody marvellous, hey? Just bloody, shitting marvellous!"

Rivka nodded, smiling.

"Yes, Ivan … it certainly is … and I’m so glad you found one another." Leaning forward she kissed his cheek, and Nikitin blushed redder than ever. "A blessing, Ivan. Truly a blessing."

And she leaned back in her chair, content to watch Nikitin and his much-loved mother, the elderly crone lost in the joy of young Vassili Nikolayvich Koulikov as he happily pulled the tassels of her old shawl. Sometimes, she thought, war is not so bad. Sometimes lost people find each other again, and in terrible times like these such a thing is like a flower in a bomb crater – joy from devastation … just like my wonderful son …

With those thoughts, Rivka sat quietly and revelled in new beginnings and a family reunited.

**************

When Nikolai returned home that night, he dropped a letter in front of Rivka as she sat peeling turnips at the kitchen table. Drying her hands, she picked it up and studied it … then gave a quiet cry of delight.

Nikolai grinned as he watched her tear the envelope open.

"It’s from Oleg - hurry up woman! Is it a boy or a girl??" He chuckled as he eased off his greatcoat and wandered back out into the hallway to hang it up beside his ushanka.

The cry of shock brought him running back into the kitchen to find Rivka sitting staring at the letter, one hand covering her mouth in dismay.

"Niko … oh God, Niko …" She raised the letter in a shaking hand and gave it to him, and the big soldier sank down onto a chair and began to read.

 

1^st February, 1944

Dearest Rivka, Vasha and Nikolai,

Well, my good, sweet friends, at long last I can send you news of the baby. Beautiful Anna has given me a daughter. A gorgeous, tiny little girl with soft fair curls and hazel eyes. Or at least, I think they will be hazel. Her name is Anna, after her mother. She is so small, Rivka, so frail, I can’t even begin to describe how wonderful she is. She was born two weeks ago, and she has been the very centre of my life ever since.

But I must tell you about my darling wife, my Anna. Now you’re not to fret, Rivka, she’s doing better now, but it was touch and go for a while, I can tell you. She was in labour for the longest time. I honestly thought I was going to lose her, but finally we managed to get the baby out. Then she haemorrhaged. Dear God, Rivka, I thought she was dying – and she very nearly did, but we somehow stopped the bleeding and she survived the night, so she is lying beside me on the bed as I write this and sends her love. Little Annushka is a good child – she hardly ever cries, eats like a horse (although Anna can’t feed her as her milk didn’t come and we have to scrape up milk powder and a little goat’s milk when we can) and makes us both very happy. But Anna is still very unwell, and I’m struggling to work and care for them both too. The staff at the hospital are very good and kind, and I’m coping, so don’t worry. We just wanted to let you know about your new niece, as of course you will be a much loved aunt and uncle, and little Anna sends a kiss to her cousin Vasha.

I must go now, as my daughter is demanding her supper, and Anna needs her rest.

Take care, my friends, write soon and let us know how you all are.

Oleg, Anna and Annushka Chernyenko.

 

Rivka looked at her husband with tears in her eyes.

"Oh Niko, I have to go to them! Oleg needs help!" She stood up, pacing backwards and forwards, formulating plans in her mind and just as quickly discarding them. "Maybe I can get a lift back with a convoy … no, no, that wouldn’t be ideal – I know! The trains are running now, perhaps I can get a permit and Vasha and I can go -"

"No!" Nikolai’s gruff voice cut through her musings, and Rivka stopped pacing, surprised.

"Whatever do you mean, ‘No’??? Of course I have to go! It won’t be for long, and as soon as Anna is on her feet I’ll be home. You can take care of yourself for a few weeks, surely?"

Nikolai looked up at her with darkling eyes.

"No, my lady – you’re not going anywhere, especially with Vasha – and before you throw a pan at me, let me say why not. First of all," he continued as Rivka straightened in anger, "you won’t get a travel permit – you’re still a civilian, and you’re certainly not taking Vasha anywhere, so get that into your head right now. It isn’t safe to travel just yet, especially a woman on her own with a child, and you know it! No indeed, Rivka Koulikova, you stay right where you are!"

"But - "

"No, I said, and I mean it this time!" Nikolai scraped the chair back as he stood up and gathered his fraught wife to him, kissing the top of her head even as she tried to wheedle her way out of his grasp. Finally succeeding, she took a step back and looked up at her husband, her anger beginning to spill.

"Nikolai Koulikov, don’t you even think of forbidding me to do this!! He saved your life, you big oaf, and if you think I’m going to abandon them when they need us most - "

Nikolai held up a big hand, trying to stop the imminent explosion.

"Now then, Rivka, just hold your horses, woman! I never said anything about not helping, now did I? No," he added seeing Rivka’s mouth shut, words unspoken, "I mean to help, my lady, but we have to do this sensibly – I can’t have you and Vasha gallivanting about the countryside on your own, doing God only knows what, getting yourself into trouble, now can I?"

"Trouble? Trouble??? Just what d’you think I am, you big klotz? Some sort of brainless, twittery girl without a thought in her head??? I’ll have you know - "

"Rivka, take a breath before you faint, all right?" Nikolai waved her to a chair and Rivka took a deep breath and sat down, still not convinced but at least grudgingly willing to listen. "Now, can you put together a nice, tasty dinner for three in an hour?"

Rivka Koulikova opened her mouth … then shut it again, flummoxed. She thought for a moment, and then nodded.

"Good," Nikolai said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Righto, my lady – I’m off to headquarters. I’ll be back soon, and if you can, dress the table up a little and bring out the last of the coffee."

Rivka blinked and finally found her voice.

"Nikolai, just what the hell is going on?? What on earth are you going to do??"

Nikolai Koulikov grinned as he went to get his ushanka and greatcoat.

"We, my lady, are going to convince the army that they need a new doctor in Kiev!"

And before Rivka could say another word, he was gone.

****************

General Alexandr Pyotrvich Chekurda stifled a soft belch and settled back in his chair, letting out a satisfied breath. He smoothed down his moustache, twirled the end for a moment, then smiled at Rivka Koulikova, who was offering him more coffee.

"Comrade Koulikova, you are an excellent cook! And a charming one at that!" Chekurda loosened the top button of his uniform and relaxed even further into his chair, then sipped the rich, black coffee from one of Rivka’s tiny coffee cups. She had found them only the week before in the house next door, the only unbroken china in the bombed-out kitchen. Smiling at the compliment, Rivka cut a generous slice of fruit cake and placed it in front of Chekurda, and as she did so she mentally apologised to the young sergeant of supplies and his three assistants who would have to wait a little while longer for the cake she had promised them in return for two dozen fresh eggs.

Chekurda eyed the hefty, rich slice and glanced at Rivka’s eager face. He had a very sweet tooth, and cake such as this one … well, it wasn’t exactly commonplace, especially in the Red Army. He broke off a morsel and ate it, chewing appreciatively. It was delicious, as he expected it to be. He swallowed and brushed a crumb off his moustache. Sighing in satisfaction he studied Nikolai, who was tucking into his own helping of cake. He chortled to himself.

"So, Comrade Koulikova, I must thank you most heartily for a wonderful meal – it’s a long, long time since I had home-cooked fare, I can tell you, and I can see why the Colonel allowed his wife to come to Kiev – all the comforts of home!" He took another sip of coffee and caught Rivka in his dark, intense gaze. "So, can you tell me why I was invited to join you for this delicious repast?"

Rivka let her mobile mouth quirk at the compliment, and caught Nikolai’s eye. He hitched an eyebrow.

"My wife’s idea, comrade General," he said, wiping up crumbs from his plate with a finger and finishing them off with relish. "She wants to ask you a favour."

Rivka’s velvet eyes sparked and sitting down opposite Chekurda she poured herself a coffee. Well, this little general was no fool, at least. He had known right from the start that the meal came with a price attached.

"Well, seeing as my husband has decided I should be the one to ask …" she took a breath and studied Chekurda for a moment, and saw nothing but curiosity in his measured gaze. "All right – since you asked, I’ll just come out with it. We have friends in Stalingrad … a doctor and his wife. They recently had a baby, and his wife nearly died having the child. She’s recovering, but slowly, and he’s trying to cope with looking after a sick wife, a very young baby and doing a job at the field hospital there. We want them to come to Kiev where I can care for Anna and the baby." She looked at Nikolai and he nodded in encouragement. "They can stay here, with us. We have plenty of room, and Anna could take her time and recover properly, with plenty of rest and food." She leaned forward and fixed Chekurda with her dark eyes. "He’s a good doctor, General – one of the best. He’s worked in a field hospital for over two years, and he’s more than earned the right to some help. So … can you do anything? Can you authorise a move for Oleg and his family here to Kiev? Because if you can’t – or won’t – I’ll go to someone who can, and I won’t rest until I find a way to bring them here."

Chekurda was taken aback. This was not what he had expected – a request to be moved to somewhere safer from Koulikov’s wife, or perhaps a move for Koulikov himself to somewhere away from the stench of Syrets – but not for a doctor and his wife and baby to come to Kiev, here, near the front.

He looked from Rivka to Nikolai, and saw determination in Rivka’s face and understanding in the big sniper’s. He pondered for a moment. Rivka had not begged or wheedled. No, she had been forthright and honest with him – and she had also delivered an ultimatum. She was a determined woman, and her husband, this tall, brawny, metal-toothed soldier who was a legend in this great, war-ravaged country, was backing her up every inch of the way. He made his decision, and surprised himself at how easy it was to make it. Reaching forward, he picked up Rivka’s hand in his own.

"Madam, you are quite a woman." He gently kissed the back of her hand and Rivka was too surprised to pull it away, charmed by the gentlemanly gesture. "I like women with balls, and you, comrade Koulikova, have enough for a whole regiment. I wish I had officers with your guts. So," he added, grinning, "Write to your doctor. Tell him to be here in Kiev in two weeks, if his wife is fit to travel. I’ll speak to the medical authorities – we’ll find a place for him somewhere, they owe me a favour or two. But … there is a price to be paid."

Nikolai stiffened and Rivka’s face froze. But Chekurda let go of her hand and lifted the plate holding the cake, flourishing it at her.

"One fruit cake. The price for this errand of mine is one fruit cake, for my staff and me. Is the bargain sealed?" He spat on the palm of his hand and held it out to Rivka, who nodded dumbly, then shook it. "Excellent!" Chekurda let his grin soften as he studied the cake. "Now, Colonel, I am going to enjoy my cake and coffee, and then I must return to my billet."

He broke off another piece of cake and munched it happily, his moustache bristling with good humour, and relaxed in the warmth and comfort of Rivka’s kitchen as though he had been there all of his life.

***************

Later that night, as Rivka sat sewing the hem of one of her blouses, Nikolai leaned over and kissed her.

"It will be good to see them again, my lady. And the baby too." He plumped down beside her on the sofa. "Are you sure you can cope with another baby in the house? I mean, you work hard enough as it is."

Rivka smiled to herself as she sewed.

"Oh, what’s one more to look after, Niko? Anna is so sweet. Poor girl – it must have been terrible for her, and for Oleg, of course. Anyway, it will be company for Vasha for a while …" her smile softened as she looked up at her husband, a light shining in her eyes. "Well, until Vasha’s little brother or sister comes along."

Nikolai frowned for a second, then his blue gaze cleared and his mouth dropped open. Rivka kissed him.

"Shut your mouth, my love – you look like a startled carp."

"Rivka???" Nikolai shook himself mentally, "Are you sure? I mean …" He swallowed nervously, but he couldn’t mask the excitement. "I mean … are you sure??? A baby?? Our baby??"

Rivka’s smile dimpled.

"I missed my monthly about two weeks ago, and I feel queasy in the mornings." She snorted, amused. "You didn’t even notice, did you? Typical man! Yes, love, I think – no, I know – I’m expecting again." She looked anxious for a moment. "Are you happy about it?"

Nikolai’s blue eyes widened.

"Happy?? Am I happy?? Bloody hell, woman, you’re giving me another child!! How could I not be happy??"

And gathering her up in his arms he hugged her tight until she squeaked.

"Niko, if you don’t let go I’m going to prick one of us with this needle! You are such a big fool, so you are!"

Nikolai eased his grip and looked down at her as she put away her sewing. A baby! They were having another baby! He hugged her again, but gently this time, and Rivka settled against his chest in contentment.

They sat quietly, almost humming with pleasure, and Nikolai laid a big hand on her abdomen.

"A girl this time. I would like a girl … a sister for Vasha. But it doesn’t really matter, as long as you and the baby are all right, then I’ll be happy."

Rivka laid her own hand over his, and squeezed.

"A girl. I would like a girl too, my Niko. And she will be called Elena Katerina, for your mother."

Nikolai cradled his wife in his arms, and Rivka listened to beat of his heart in his chest, and didn’t think she could be happier. But a thought struck her.

"Niko … I’ve always wanted to ask you this, and please don’t take it the wrong way – but if I had had a child when you met me … Gavri’s child … would you still have married me?"

Nikolai eased back and looked down at her, surprised. He shook his head.

"I’ve never thought about it. But …" he paused, and then nodded. "Yes, I would have loved you, and married you, and taken the child too. You can’t blame a child for the sins of the father, now can you? I suffered that all my childhood, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, let alone a child."

He felt Rivka nestle deeper into his chest and held her close. Her voice whispered softly in the lamp-lit room, the words almost lost in the folds of his shirt. But he knew what she said, and rejoiced.

"I love you, my Niko … always … forever …"

*************

As they lay in bed later, Nikolai curled into her, spooning behind her and laid his hand on her belly.

"Our baby … our daughter …"

"Yes, love … ours … and Vasha’s …"

And tangled together, they slept.

************

 

Rivka awoke muzzily, warm and languid beneath layered blankets. Something was trailing lazily along her bare belly. A finger. It was a finger.

"Mmph," she said.

The finger was replaced by a pair of lips that kissed her belly where the tiny life lay. It travelled to her navel, and then a warm tongue crept out and burrowed gently in the indent.

"Niko … what are you doing?"

The lips disappeared and she felt oddly bereft. Opening her eyes blearily she realised one of the small candles beside the bed had been lit and Colonel Nikolai Koulikov was propped up on one elbow studying her intently. He was naked.

"I’m thinking," he said, cocking his head to one side as he studied her.

Rivka frowned sleepily. Not only was Nikolai naked, he had unbuttoned her gown and slipped it carefully from her shoulders while she slept. She too was as naked as the day she was born. Her eyebrow hitched.

"What on earth are you thinking about at this time of night? It’s nowhere near time - "

"I’m thinking," he replied, voice mellow with pleasure, "of that little squeak you make when I first take you." His hand strayed down to cup the curls between her thighs. Rivka wriggled slightly, enjoying the sensation but undeniably a little disconcerted.

"Squeak? I never squeak!" she said defiantly.

"Oh, yes you do, my lady. And a very needy squeak it is too. Just as I enter you, you make a funny little noise – it’s a sort of a mix between lust and surprise … very nice, it is. It means I’m doing it right. And then, when I start to move you make a different sound … a soft sigh, like a tiny mousling." He leaned over and pushed down the blankets, kissing her belly once more. Raising his head to look at her lean features he smiled. Rivka’s brown eyes were liquid soft with pleasure. Removing his hand from her loins he burrowed his face in the dark curls, tongue flicking to part her nether lips and suckling gently. Rivka squeaked.

Nikolai laughed softly, muffled as he took his pleasure of her. He teased her for a few moments more then stopped, Rivka muttering her frustration. He went back to his perusal of her, this time stroking her flanks.

"Then," he said, "when I push into you again and again – I can feel the entrance to your womb, did you know that? Anyway, as I push, I can feel you tighten with each thrust, like … like …" he struggled for the words, "like … yes, a well-rifled barrel! Tight and snug, and so glorious …" His voice broke for a second as he thought of the feeling of Rivka sheathed around him. "But there are other things I love about you, my lady."

Rivka was still thinking of Nikolai’s manhood buried deep within her, but she stopped when she felt his hand take hers and guide it between his legs.

"Ohhh, Niko … you’re so warm there …" Urged on by his grip, Rivka cupped him, feeling the heaviness of his testicles within the protection of his scrotum. She squeezed gently and heard him grunt. Her thumb strayed to the steely rigidity of his penis, now aroused fully. Nikolai gasped and urged her hand upwards around him.

"There … just there … see how ready I am for you? I want to spill my seed in you, Rivka. I want to feel you around me as I come, urging me … holding me to you … tell me how it is with you … I want to know so much …"

"Oh Niko, love, you have no idea! You always feel so good, did you know that?" Rivka, still working on him with one hand, leaned upwards to kiss him. Breaking off, she drank in his features, his beautiful blue eyes now hazy as she pressed harder. He pushed against her grip in reply, wanting more. Rivka smiled. "When you first come into me, you feel as though you have come home, did you know that?" She could see by the surprise on his face that he felt the same way. "When you first took me, you felt so big … I thought for a moment I couldn’t possibly take in all of you … but I did. And when you move … oh, my Nikolushka – you feel magnificent! And then …" She ran a finger over the engorged crown and Nikolai groaned.

"Go on, Rivka … please, don’t stop … not now …"

Rivka smirked.

"And then, my Niko … when you finish …" She blushed a little, seeing the bare need in Nikolai’s eyes, "When you finish, my love … you make such groans and cries! And inside me, I feel … well, it’s a funny feeling really - "

Nikolai’s eyes widened.

"Funny? What d’you mean funny?" He bridled a little at the remark, despite his profound pleasure at her touch.

Rivka’s lips quirked into a smile.

"Well, you see, I’m usually quite enjoying myself by that point, but still … I can feel you, pressing so deep inside me. And then … and then it feels hot, like molten silver. And you throb and … and push, and hold me tight. And afterwards you lie there like you’ve been hit with a brick. I love that!" And she gave his rigid shaft another small squeeze that made him groan. "And, my sweet, adorable, hard Niko, you’d better do something with this before you do yourself a mischief, don’t you think?"

Nikolai leaned over her and kissed her hungrily.

"You think so? Are you sure it’s all right?" he said, breathing hard as he broke off his kiss. Rivka raised her eyebrows suggestively, giving her approval to his proposal. "Well then, I shouldn’t keep my woman waiting, now should I? Come here, you!"

Pulling her hand from his throbbing manhood and slipping backwards he eased himself from under the blankets and stood at the side of the bed. Rivka studied him for long moments as he stood still, his powerful frame outlined by the glowing fire and the candlelight. His erection rose hard and proud, thick and very ready. Catching her by the knees, Nikolai pulled her gently towards him and parted her thighs, positioning himself between her legs.

"Watch, Rivka. Watch me take you. Watch me move in you … see? See how I make you mine …"

So Rivka raised her head, mesmerised, as Nikolai rested the tip of his manhood at her moist entrance. Steadying himself by grasping her hips, he eased into her. Rivka’s body arched and she let her head drop back onto the bed. This time she gave out two squeaks, much to Nikolai’s amusement, although his soft chuckle deepened instantly into a groan as he sheathed himself in her to the hilt.

"Hell’s teeth, Rivka … good God, woman, you’ll be the death of me, I swear …" He felt her hips move to meet him but he gripped her hard, stopping her, much to Rivka’s frustration. "No! Don’t move, dammit! Not yet!" And pulling back he plunged deeper, harder this time, and saw with satisfaction how Rivka’s fingers clutched at the bedclothes at his attentions. Her breath came is sighing gasps and her breasts were hard and high, nipples erect with arousal. He thrust again, a growl escaping him as he moved hard in her, and a smile of triumph curved his mobile mouth as Rivka whimpered with pleasure. "Do I please you, Rivka? Do I feel good to you?"

Rivka’s eyes opened lazily, languorous with lust.

"Oh yes, my Niko … you feel good … so good …"

Nikolai’s smile became feral with need, and his fingers left indents in the skin over her hipbones, holding her to him as he began to thrust rhythmically. He saw her shoulders brace against his thrusts allowing him to move harder and harder, and he watched himself as he withdrew, rigid and slick with their mingled juices. Then he buried himself deep within her once more, a soft grunt echoing in his chest.

"God, Rivka … when … when I took you that first time, I knew … I knew then you were mine … I was your first … not him … not Velonin … it was me … who took your maidenhead … me … you’re mine, Rivka … always … watch, damn you! Watch as I make you come!"

Leaning forward, he grasped Rivka’s shoulder with one big hand and cupped her head gently in the other, forcing her to look down to where they were joined, his hips flexing strongly now, grinding against her pelvis and bringing small cries of joy from her.

Rivka gasped at the sight of him above her, powerful body tense in the candlelight, sweat sheening the taut muscles of his striving frame. Her hands moved to grasp his body, fingers clawing wildly at him as he moved, nails leaving red marks where they scored his heated skin. Her teeth were bared, lips drawn back, a sultry cry coming from her throat at every thrust, and she watched his body press between her slick thighs, the heavy fullness of his penis glimpsed with every movement in and out of her body. She was impaled by him … helpless, speared by love and lust, revelling in the play of hard muscles in his belly and chest.

"Touch … touch me …" she gasped, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Nikolai groaned with desire, and moved his hand from her head and slid it downwards, trailing along the heaving plain of her breasts and abdomen to the cleft between her legs, Rivka watching him closely. A long finger insinuated itself between slick nether lips and touched the bundle of nerves within. Rivka arched with pleasure, bucking beneath Nikolai’s hard, possessing body.

"A wildcat, so you are!" He said gruffly, feeling her clench around him. "I should tame you, my lady … I should turn you over and use you like a stallion uses a mare …"

Rivka, still watching as he stroked her with insistent fingers and swelling manhood, looked up at him with fire in her eyes as her hands reached down to clasp his moving hips. Her nails pricked his buttocks and long legs wound around him, trapping him willingly.

"No, my Niko … you won’t … you’re mine, my Nikolushka … harder, love … harder … I want to watch you finish and feel your seed in me …"

And they could speak no more. Their last moments were frenzied, Rivka giving a helpless, keening cry as she convulsed under him, around him, legs tight and quivering, thighs hot and hard with tension as her hands dug into the rigid muscles of his back.

In contrast Nikolai was silent, only giving a final guttural hiss of pleasure as he arched over her, head thrown back and jaw clenched. He shuddered deeply as he reached climax, feeling the pulse riding like mountainous waves through his body as his semen flooded her, arms braced against the wracking spasms of his broad frame as he finished within her.

Later, as they lay entwined in the dark, sheets tangled around tired, spent bodies, Rivka felt Nikolai’s hand stroke her breast lovingly and a kiss was planted on her shoulder. As she fell asleep she heard a soft, drowsy whisper.

"Mine … not his … never … my Rivka … my love …"