In the Red by Elena Mauli Shapiro Read Free Book Online Page A

Elena how to fasten the tiny buttons on the garter belt to the top of a stocking. “That’s what Vasilii will like,” Irina said, “for you to wear things like that underneath so he knows it’s for him only. Not for any others.”
    The lingerie set that Elena liked best was a saturated crimson that contrasted beautifully against her milky skin, with layered lace frills over the rump and at the breast line. Irina flipped the price tag hanging from Elena’s waist and saw that this was the most expensive set in the pile of discards she had just tried on.
    â€œYou have good taste,” Irina said, with what might have been construed as a touch of irony.
    But Elena was not ironic. Her flushed face and glimmering eyes registered something like sad wonder. “I have never worn something so beautiful for underneath,” she said, laying her hand on the soft upper curve of her lifted breasts.
    Fear, wonder, amusement—this girl seemed to toggle from one inappropriate emotion to the other on a simple shopping trip. The source of the maelstrom from which these feelings were flung flummoxed Irina. “You are inscrutable,” she said to the girl’s reflection, as pretty and suggestive as something that might be seen in a men’s magazine.
    Elena gave a real laugh at Irina’s observation and waved her off. “Oh, no,” she said. “You will see. I am really quite scrutable.”
    While the cashier was ringing up the underthings, Elena looked up at a flicker in the fluorescent light.
    â€œNo windows,” she said. “Like in the casino.”
    â€œYes,” Irina answered. “They don’t want you to see time pass.”
    â€œThis light,” Elena said dreamily as Irina signed the credit card receipt, “this light is not a real light like the sun. But it is not darkness either. This light—this light is an unlight.”
    Unlight. Scrutable. This girl was full of words that were not words. In her mouth, English hardly recognized itself.

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    T he first time was difficult. She was nervous. He could feel it in her limbs. The waves of tremor that traveled down her body as he kissed her were too strong to be caused by pleasure alone. He hiked up her shirt and nibbled her belly. She arched her back and gasped. “Do you want to?” he asked.
    She dropped her head back onto the pillow and sighed. “I want to,” she whispered at the ceiling. “I want to.”
    He slipped her shirt over her head to uncover the breasts that he knew were not encased in a bra from the way they moved. They were so young and so pert, absolutely lovely handfuls that he kissed with great reverence. She let him unbutton her jeans and work her out of them, and then her socks, which he grasped at the toes and pulled off swiftly, both at the same time. She laughed. It was a bit like undressing a child. She was a child! She was wearing the sort of white cotton panties that come in a three-pack from one of those American stores where they sell everything. He would have to get her better underthings than that, teach her how to dress properly. He relished the smooth sound of her skin as he removed the panties from her, and felt great tenderness at her expectant nakedness. She looked as desirous as any woman he’d ever seen, but also frankly afraid.
    â€œDon’t worry,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”
    She said nothing but let her legs fall open slightly wider, so he took off the last of his clothes and positioned himself above her. When he nudged his way inside, it was his turn to gasp, while she gave a cry of pain that also happened to be quite arousing.
    â€œYou are one snug little scabbard,” he said.
    She was so tight it felt as if he were gashing the passage open himself. As if she were some fairy-tale nymph that he had summoned in order to split her into a woman, right then, with the insistent heat of him. He breathed to steady