Chapter Text
Madame Lémieux was not a good-natured woman. She was strict and had many rules that her employees had to follow in order to not upset the proud Frenchwoman. Everyone always kept to a strict plan so that the routine of the trendy brothel did not get out of hand and to maintain the good reputation among its loyal visitors.
Every day at eight o'clock, when the sun has already set in Russia, Madame Lémieux’ protégés should sit at their dressing tables and put on their make-up for the night. Half an hour later they had to be dressed and ready to go. Since it was such a small time window, every now and then a girl would be a couple minutes late and that’s when they get called out on it in front of their fellow sex workers and received small punishments.
Usually the dancers practiced some of their most complicated positions on the pole before the show starts, while the youngest girls prepared to serve the male clientele and the prostitutes looked in the mirror for one last time to repair the tiniest flaws in their make-up and to mentally prepare for their assigned roles. After all, they were the main attraction of the Maison de plaisir.
Despite the many restrictions and humiliating punishments received after a rule violation, most women were happy to have ended up here. Simply because no other brothel owner in this city also set strict guidelines for visitors.
Under no circumstances were dancers to be touched by their audience during a show – the same applied for the young waitresses, who, at thirteen and fourteen, were considered too young and innocent even in a Russian brothel. Even the prostitutes received protection from Madame Lémieux' security, if customers treated the young women too roughly during the act. It is said from behind the hand that the French woman had a terrible experience with three men back in her days and that‘s why she paid so much attention to the safety of her "mentorés".
The age range of employees at the Maison de plaisir ranged between thirteen to twenty-nine years, with girls under fifteen not used for sex work. At the age of sixteen, however, they had to prepare to offer their services to paying clients. Only those who did particularly well in dance training were sent on stage and rarely had to go to one of the back rooms with a customer.
Iljana Bolschakow was not one of the lucky ones who were able to loll about the bars in the most exotic way, far from any customer. But the girl couldn't really complain. She was one of a few who enchanted a rich businessman with her body and therefore hardly had to deal with drunken miners and the like.
When she was supposed to take her first client to a room almost two years ago, she was about to have a meltdown since she was so relieved when he decided to not throw her on the bed and take what he had paid for. Instead, he burst into tears and told her about his wife, who cheated on him with a business partner and how he actually wanted to take revenge on her by sleeping with a much younger woman. However, the fact that the girl reminded him of his eldest daughter brought the family father back to his senses. Ana was not deflowered that night; and even in the following weeks he paid to see and not touch her. Dimitri Sorokin came back every day just to talk to her about himself and his life, and then, after a particularly disastrous meeting with his manager, he finally took what he had long been entitled to. Since then he has always paid a high amount of money to the Maison de plaisir so that Iljana only offered her services to him.
A couple of the other girls didn't want to have anything to do with the young Russian anymore because of that. They were jealous that she only had to share her bed with one man and otherwise wriggle herself out of reach for the other suitors. But her luck was ultimately taken away from her on the day Dimitri committed suicide. On the same evening Madame Lémieux also assigned Iljana a new role. Her once long, almost white bleached hair was cut off to her shoulders and was now curled in a seductive red-brown. Her ruffled pink dress was now worn by Palina, a small Polish woman with huge blue eyes who giggled at every joke a potential customer made.
Ana got a new dress, which matched her new image much better. It was pitch black and covered her curves like a second skin. Although it had a long cut, it did not look a bit prudish and that‘s exactly what Madame Lémieux wanted. The young Russian was too tall for her school girl disguise and almost scared men away with her height, but her long, slender legs turned some people's heads as she confidently presented her new, elegant outfit. Iljana would be satisfied with this change – well, no one in this business would have accepted a "no" – but precisely because of this dress and her new role, she was not in the preparation room with the others, but instead stood in front of the office of her Maquereau and let Agnessa wipe away the tears from under her already slightly swollen eyes.
"Pull yourself together, Ana,“ the older of the two hissed, dabbing at the girl’s cheek with a white handkerchief. "You're ruining your make-up."
The tremor in her voice and the trembling of her hand revealed the actual state of mind of her native Slovak friend, but Iljana only pressed her blood-red-painted lips together and tried frantically to calm down.
Yesterday, Oleg, one of Madame Lémieux' bodyguards, brought the seventeen-year-old to the Frenchwoman. It was the first time that the Russian could see anything other than pride and self-confidence on the older woman's face. Her worried look frightened Ana more than any threat she had ever heard from her. When Madame Lémieux revealed her concern, the girl collapsed in front of her and was only able to speak properly after an hour, when her sobbing calmed down.
"Nessa, don't you remember what happened to the Roux?"
It felt like ice-cold water was pouring down her back and Ana shuddered at the thought of the beaten-up faces and deep cuts all over the bodies of the Alexeyev-twins.
A competitive brothel, called Roux, on the other side of the city, had done business with a secret unnamed organization a few years ago. Two of the prettiest escort ladies were to be picked up by a driver and had to offer their services for a few hours. After several days both sisters were found near a large construction site – completely apathetic and so distraught that one never said a word again and the other was crouched in an institution till this day and, according to rumors, painted on the walls with her excrements.
None of the brothel owners have made a deal with this organization since, which is why it was all the more shocking that Madame Lémieux agreed to one. What Iljana didn't know was that her Maquereau was far from agreeing. She certainly didn't want to hand over one of her most precious girls to these animals, but if anyone was more frightening than Madame Lémieux, then it was Alexander Pierce. And if Pierce wanted her most robust prostitute for his best man, then he will have her.
"Hey, look at me, маленькая сестра," whispered Agnessa and gently pushed Ana's chin up with one hand. "You are the strongest and smartest girl among all of us. If anyone can survive this, then it is you.” The twenty-five-year-old then hugged the younger girl and stroked her back soothingly. Since Iljana's change of image, the Slovak had taken the teenager under her wing and shown her how to make herself appeal to men faster and more effectively. Both have become inseparable over the past few months. Agnessa intended to simply take the young Russian with her when her contract with Madame Lémieux expired when she turns thirty. It was a nice thought that filled both of them with hope, but they also knew that it was purely suicidal. Nobody could leave before the contract expired, and even if you lasted until thirty, the next one would come and force you to work as a housekeeper for a wealthy family. Slavery never stopped for people like Iljana.
The door to the office opened and Nessa hastily whispered "take care" and reluctantly scurried back to the preparation room so that she would not be punished for her absence. Iljana was now alone in the hallway, staring spellbound at a man who was almost two heads taller than her. Oleg sighed and put a hand on Ana's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. That was all of his compassion he could show her for the moment. The Russian understood and quickly blinked away new tears that tried to escape her eyes.
"Iljana," a firm voice behind the huge bodyguard shook Ana out of her miserable thoughts. "Will you ever be on time?“ Madame Lémieux came out of her office and looked down at the elegant dressed-up girl. The teenager apologized and looked down at the floor.
"I’m sorry, Madame, it took me longer to prepare."
If Ana would dare to look at the Frenchwoman's gaze, she would be able to see her short understanding nod. The older woman sighed and put on her typical proud expression.
“A driver is waiting downstairs for you and Oleg. You two will be taken to an unknown location and will be brought back after you’re done with your service – you might be blindfolded for the trip, so please be prepared for that. Oleg will be by your side throughout the whole process, Iljana," she added quickly when she saw the girls trembling lips, “Your services are only used for an hour; not a second longer. As soon as you are back, I expect you to report everything to me that has happened while you were there. After that, you are excused from work for the rest of the night.“ Madame Lémieux looked down at her with a frown. "If someone tries to harm you, you have my permission to break as many noses as you want."
The French woman referred to the incident with Ivan, a regular of the house. A few nights ago, he didn't want to let the seventeen-year-old out of her room after his time with her had ended, and instead of simply giving in, Ana slapped him across the face with such a force that his crooked nose was even more crooked than before.
A few of the other guests had been in their immediate vicinity and, as luck would have it, there was a henchman from Alexander Pierce among them. If she had given Ivan only five more minutes, Pierce would have never heard of her temperamental nature and the Russian would not be in this terrible situation.
Iljana nodded after a moment and muttered a depressed "okay". And with that she and Oleg set off.
The journey was calm and dark. Madame Lémieux hadn't joked when she warned the two of them about the possibility of a blindfold. Even though Ana was trembling with fear and tightening her oversized fur coat around her body, she was still worried about her mascara, which was most likely smeared by the fabric over her eyes.
The car stopped after about half an hour. Both, prostitute and bodyguard, were released from the bandages that kept them from seeing where they were going. Iljana blinked a few times until her eyes got used to the bright light. She looked around and realized she was in some kind of warehouse. Where the hell were they? The Russian had expected a motel or maybe even a nicely decorated house, but a dirty warehouse was an insult even to a prostitute of her caliber.
„Move," growled the man who had blindfolded her. He pushed Iljana in the direction of the steel doors of an elevator. Stumbling slightly, she followed his abrupt instruction and entered the old lift after the doors opened with a soft bing.
Ana slowly counted to four and almost loudly gasped when the elevator came to an abrupt halt. She gathered up that little bit of courage she still had left in her body, lifted her head dignified and walked ahead as confidently as possible. They were in an almost lonely corridor now. Just one uniformed man stood at the end, next to another metal door.
„Name?" He asked, peering down at the seventeen-year-old's clothes when they came closer.
"Uh," confused she looked briefly at Oleg and back at the man, "Iljana Bolschakow?"
Without turning his face, he turned to a green grid and put his hand up on it. A strange noise came from the door and barely a second later something clicked and it was pushed open as if by magic. Perplexed, the Russian stared at the uniformed man and frowned when she found a white symbol on his left breast. It looked like a skull with... were those tentacles?
Before she could think about what she had seen, she was already pushed from behind and with a bad feeling in her gut she set foot into the next corridor. However, this time they didn't run to the end. The rude man behind her grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her back as she tried to walk past the second door. Obviously annoyed, the guard pulled a keychain out of his pocket.
"In here," was all he said and with a click the door opened up. Oleg started to step into the room, but was stopped by the guard. "Just her."
Iljana's heart jumped and her body trembled from fear immediately. She didn't want to be alone with whoever she was about to meet. Unfortunately, she had no choice. Ana looked up to Oleg one last time and nodded slightly before slipping through the door frame into the darkened room.
„And if I were you, I wouldn't be talking too much. He doesn't answer anyway, ”croaked the man behind her. "Oh, and he was told to not unnecessarily hurt you, as agreed with your pimp. Hm, let’s see if he keeps his promise, shall we?… Have fun. ” With these shattering words, the guard closed the door with a grin on his ugly face. The faint jiggling of his keys was followed by the unmistakable sound of locks clicking into place.
Even after a couple seconds, she was still staring at the spot where the guard was standing just a moment ago and swallowed hard. Her heart contracted painfully in her chest as she slowly turned around and absorbed her surroundings.
She was in a very simple room. The walls were not wallpapered and the floor looked as if it had never been cleaned. There was a lonely metal table in the middle of the room, a single chair was leaning against it. On the opposite side was an old bed with sheets that were torn. What the hell was this? A torture chamber? Her eyes darted over the three pieces of furniture in confusion. Was this a joke? She had no problem sitting alone in a room for an hour, but why would someone pay for her service and go for these lengths to bring her here?
Iljana snorted and turned back to the door to ask if she could have a book. But when she turned her head to the side, she looked straight into a pair of ice-blue eyes. Ana screamed and leapt backwards. Wild curses found their way out of her mouth and in horror she slapped a hand against her rapidly beating heart.
A man with jet black hair sat in a second chair in the corner by the door, watching Iljana intently. A mask covered half of his face, but it wasn't his face that caught Ana’s full attention. His left arm gleamed metallic in the dim light and was the perfect contrast to his black combat clothing. He looked like he had jumped out of a really scary Thriller.
"Oh, shit," the Russian whispered, eyes wide with fear. The man didn't even respond. He just sat in his chair and fixed her with his piercing gaze. Her mouth grew dry while her hands sweated uncomfortably. Neither of them moved for a few seconds until Iljana cleared her throat and looked nervously around the room.
"I- uh- do you want me to undress?"
What a stupid question. Of course she should undress, that's why she was brought here. If Madame Lémieux saw her now, she would be scolded until the sun rises. After all, she and the other girls should always stay in their roles, no matter what situation they were in. But Ana would love to see how confident the Frenchwoman would be if she were locked in a room with this man.
Iljana hesitantly shook the coat from her shoulders and carefully placed it over her arm. Usually she would drop it theatrically on the floor in front of a customer, but it was so dirty here that she didn't want to see her new outfit lying in the dirt under any circumstances. Slowly she stepped up to the table and carefully placed the coat on top, all the while the man's eyes watched her every move. Goosebumps spread uncomfortably over her entire body. This man radiated an aura that could only be described with the word "danger".
"S-should I take off more or do you want to do that?" She didn’t know where she found the guts to ask him questions, but Ana still had a job to do. If she died through the hand of this man today, she would to go to heaven as a heroine. No matter how many men she already had before marriage.
As expected, he didn't answer her. Her fear slowly faded and was replaced by impatience. She had no desire to let the mask freak have his go on her, but at least he could show some decency and answer a simple question. After all, even the most disgusting crooks did.
Eyes still fixed on his metal arm, she pulled the black evening dress over her head and dropped it on the table next to the fur coat. Now she was standing only a few feet in front of him, dressed in her fine underwear and elegant high heels. She nervously gritted her teeth.
"If I'm not your type, you can say it. I would definitely not complain.” Again no answer, but for a moment his cold eyes wandered down her long body and then shot up to the girl's face.
Iljana's heart pounded hard in her chest as she took a step towards him. No reaction. She put one foot in front of the other, one by one, until she was an arm's length away and prayed that he would not attack her. He reminded her of a wild animal, waiting for the perfect moment to charge. She tried to stay calm and told herself that it was just a job. Just like every other one – just a job.
"I'm going to sit on your lap now, okay?"
As expected, she didn't get an answer. She carefully moved forward and lifted her right leg up so that she could swing it over him and climb onto his lap without any problems. Now she was standing in immediate proximity and touched his thighs with her knees. From the corner of her eye, Iljana saw his metal hand twitch. She immediately realized that this wasn’t a good idea and hastily removed herself from him. Stumbling, she took a few steps back and tried to suppress the trembling of her body.
"You- you don't want me to touch you, do you?"
Not expecting an answer, she stepped back, not taking her eyes off the man. She reached the table where her dress laid upon. Does he even blink? What kind of freak show was this? As quickly as she could, she put the dress back over her head and pulled it down. The whole time the man didn't move and kept staring at Iljana.
This situation seemed so unreal to the girl. She had expected everything that night, but that her client didn't even want to touch her was too good to be true. Ana crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the ground, embarrassed that he had seen her so vulnerable. Was she really that ugly that even her half-naked body didn't get this man in the mood? For the first time in her life, she wouldn't really be offended if that was the real reason.
The Russian did not know exactly why, but this realization calmed her down immensely. She was so relieved that the tension in her lessened a bit. Her feet hurt from standing for too long in those heels and without thinking about it, she sat down on the run down bed. She thoughtfully tilted her head to the side and looked at the masked man.
It seemed like his eyes tried to pierce the girl, but it didn't look like he was going to jump up and attack her. Iljana sighed exhausted and leaned her back on the wall while stretching out her legs on the bed.
"Why did they even bring me here?" She asked under her breath. Her eyes flicked quickly back to the man. He was still sitting on his chair next to the door and pretended to be a statue.
"Is this your room?" Why the hell was she still talking to him? "You should really make something out of it, this is depressing. What do you think, red wallpaper and some plants to give off the vibe that you’re an actual human being with a personality?“ She knew she was in dangerous territory, but whenever Ana was nervous, she chatted cheekily about trivial stuff and although it was considered charming by customers, Madame Lémieux has often told her that it didn't match her role as a seductive lady. At that moment, Iljana could not have cared less about what her Maquereau thought of her behavior.
"My name is Iljana, but most just call me Ana."
The girl's innocent brown eyes looked furtively at the soldier. Her feminine hands were folded on her lap and every single finger was decorated with golden rings. Despite her height, her stature could not be described as anything else but "puny". She seemed so weak that even the worst hydra agent could knock her out with a single punch. It would be so easy for him to break every single bone in her body without her being able to defend herself in any way.
The Winter Soldier never saw the girl as a threat, but if she came too close again, he would have trouble following his orders not to hurt her. The punishment would only be a brief sitting in the chair, nothing earth shattering, but his merchant did not speak highly of him at the moment, since he hadn't captured an important target alive on his last mission. Another slip would give the Winter Soldier a much tougher punishment for his disobedience.
He remembered what was presented to him in the morning. As he has been hurting Hydra's scientists and henchmen more recently during his tantrums, they suspected that he was just sexually frustrated. The Winter Soldier was definitely special, but still just a man with yearnings — at least that was their theory.
They accordingly wanted to give him one of the most sought-after girls in the Maison de plaisir to keep him busy so he wouldn't waste his pent-up energy on his own people.
"Can't you speak because of the mask or do you just like to be rude?" The girl tensely played around the holes of his slashed bedspread. Her painted fingernails reminded him of the fresh blood of his victims. The metal arm twitched again. "Don't get me wrong, I'm relieved that you don't want me, but you could at least answer me... if you can speak at all."
She looked up and when their eyes met, the girl flinched violently. While giving her full attention to his bed, he got up and went to the table. At first Iljana thought he was reaching for her fur coat, but his hand, which was covered with a black leather glove to match the outfit, reached under the table and pulled out something silver. Her eyes widened in shock and suddenly she wasn't as relaxed as before. The man held a small knife in his right.
"You- you mustn't do anything to me," she stuttered, but he didn't even notice the Russian. He pushed the ajar chair back like a monotonous machine and sat down at the table. The rack creaked dangerously under his weight as he placed his metal arm on the work surface and began to poke under the shiny plates with the tip of the knife. Ana watched him perplexed. She noticed the slight twitch of his fingers and only now did she realize that maybe it was not his intention to make her think that he wanted to crush her windpipe every time she spoke to him. The mechanics of his weird metal arm were malfunctioning.
With the new position, the other side of his body was now completely visible. She looked with astonishment at the arm in all its glory. A red star adorned his shoulder.
For the next five minutes you could only hear the terrible sound of metal rubbing against metal in the room. When he was finished with his procedure, he put the knife down on the table and formed a fist a few times to test his hand. Iljana stared at him.
"Can you feel with it?"
The Winter Soldier stopped moving and the Russian prayed that she hadn't gone too far. After a moment of silence, in which Ana could only hear the wild pounding of her heart, something incredible happened.
"Yes."
Despite the mask in front of his mouth, his voice didn’t sound muffled. It was brisk and unyielding. His answer came so unexpectedly that the young girl forgot how to speak for a moment.
"Ah," she pressed out. "Does it hurt?"
Ignoring her question, he reached for the knife again to make it disappear into the bottom of the table. Instead of getting up again, he stayed on the creaking chair and looked at the opposite wall.
“My grandfather lost his right leg in the civil war. His stump hurt every night until his death. Not that he complained, he was quite stubborn and tough.” She paused and smiled a bit. "You remind me of him. He hardly spoke either. Only when my mother made him his beloved Borschtsch he blossomed and told us a few stories from his youth. He loved to talk about the day he saw my grandmother for the first time. She was a ballerina from St. Petersburg and was only for transit in Moscow. My grandfather wanted-,“ she broke off when she noticed that she was babbling again. Her cheeks flushed and she looked ashamed to the ground.
The Winter Soldier gave her no sign that he had heard her and continued to stare at the gray wall. The girl didn't notice, but he moved his head slightly in her direction. He did not understand why she was giving him such information about her family, but could not deny that he didn’t find the way she spoke to him disturbing. She wasn’t talking to him like he was just a naughty animal like he knew it from his merchant and the scientists who worked on his arm every week. The Russian's voice reverberated gently in the room and even if you could hear her nervousness and fear, she always remained calm and exuded a confident aura. He would never admit it, but something about her put him under a spell. He felt warm and balanced, which was not normal for him at all. It made the assassin curious and he wanted to get behind her ulterior motivation.
"I'm sorry for talking too much. I‘ll be quiet now.” She apparently saw his silence as a warning because immediately after apologizing to him, she pulled her legs protectively to her body and put her chin on one knee. She tried to hide the trembling of her thin arms, but he didn't miss it. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, but the Winter Soldier surprised himself when he heard himself speak.
"Speak."
This time his request sounded dull. It didn't have the toughness that Iljana expected. She blinked a few times and wet her dry lips with her tongue. The girl gathered herself and nodded curtly.
Over the next twenty minutes she told him all about her grandfather's stories and when she finished the last one she snorted amused. Ana brushed a strand of hair from her face as she thought about the old days with her family and didn't even notice that the man in front of her was fixing her with his ice-blue eyes. His metal arm twitched as he watched the girl's blood-red lips curl up into a smile. His eyes drifted down from her mouth to the tight dress, which emphasized Iljana's curves. She was terribly thin and so incredibly fragile, yet her well-defined breasts dominated the upper half of her narrow body, while her shapely hips promised a man enough space for his offspring. Iljana had some advantages that most girls her age did not have.
Her shoulder-length dark curls paired with the innocent doe eyes and skin-tight dress reminded the assassin of someone. But no matter how much he thought of the picture of a gorgeous woman in an olive green uniform, he just couldn't remember where he had seen it before.
The Russian probably felt his stare, because her head suddenly snapped up. Her red lips cracked open, revealing the girl's relatively white teeth. She cleared her throat and looked down at her painted fingernails.
"Um, may I ask you something?" Without waiting for a reaction from him, she took a deep breath and exhaled. "How may I call you?"
His metal arm tensed.
"Soldier."
Iljana bit her lower lip. "Soldier? Don't you have a name?"
He didn't answer her, but she had expected that. Thoughtfully, she leaned back on the bed, put her head on the hard pillow and stretched out her legs. Blue eyes looked at the porcelain-like skin on her lower legs.
"Then I'll call you Alek," the girl sighed calmly, running a hand over her flat stomach. The Winter Soldier made a face for the first time that evening. His stubborn facade collapsed as Ana started humming an old lullaby she had learned from her mother. She peeked over at him. Even with the mask on you could tell that his jaw was tense. He gave her a warning look, which he usually used to scare his targets, but the Russian just swallowed and smiled nervously.
"Alek was my dog's name – uh, I liked my dog," she added quickly as the soldier's eyes narrowed. Ana carefully propped herself up on one elbow and ran her free hand through her red-brown hair. Her black dress slid up her thighs as she moved, which she only noticed when she caught "Alek" staring at her bare skin.
"Do you want ... do you want to touch me now?"
Almost embarrassed, he turned his head away from her and took out the knife under the table. Although he made no move to threaten her, her heart pounded uncomfortably fast in her chest. As if in a trance, Iljana sat up and slid to the edge of the bed. If he attacked her, she could jump up and run to the door. But in a strange and twisted way she knew that it wasn't his intention. His metal arm laid still on the work surface, while his human hand turned the knife in the light. He eyed the blade carefully.
Ana slowly got up from the bed and took a small step towards him. Maybe she was just tired of life. Why else would you approach someone who had a metal arm and played with a sharp knife?
The Winter Soldier broke out of his confusing thoughts when he heard the clicking of Iljana's high heels on the stone floor and quickly gripped the handle of his weapon. She had no idea how deadly this man was.
"I... I’m here to offer my services and get paid for it. If you... don't want to use my services, I won't force myself on you. But I have the feeling that you just don't know... how.” The Russian swallowed excitedly and took another step towards Alek. "Can I show you?"
He did not respond to her question, which could be interpreted as a "no" but also as a "yes". Ana sighed quietly and walked up to the masked man. He did not loosen his grip on the knife, if only he strengthened it. She raised her hand and slowly moved it towards his metal arm, which was still on the platform of the table. When she felt the cold material of its little plates under her fingertips, she gathered all her courage and gently put her palm on his forearm. Both were silent and looked at where they touched. After several seconds in which Iljana gasped for breath, she slowly drove down to his wrist to embrace it almost lovingly.
"Do you feel that?" She whispered barely audibly.
Alek surprised her with a barely noticeable nod. He was still irritated by her proximity, but didn't feel the need to throw the girl across the room. Determined and ready for what Ana has to face if he gets mad, she raised his hand and turned it so that the palm of his hand was facing up. He allowed it.
With a softness of a feather she stroked his middle finger with her index finger and fascinatedly traced the narrow lines that the plates formed by lying on top of each other. If only she knew how many lives he had taken with that arm.
"How does it feel? Is it the same as with your other hand? – I assume it’s not made of metal."
Even if he wanted to answer her, he couldn't remember that someone else had ever touched him so delicately. As if she could read his mind, her eyes darted to his human hand, the leather stretching dangerously over his knuckles.
"Put the knife away, please. I won't try to hurt you."
Everyone remained in their position for a moment and then Alek slowly loosened his grip and watched his useful weapon fall to the floor. Careful not to move too quickly, Ana placed her warm hand on his and pushed it towards her. She gingerly pulled on the leather and after a couple seconds freed the rough skin beneath it. Without lingering too long she sat on the tabletop and rolled up the fabric of her dress until she reached her panties. She quickly, but not too quickly, swung a leg over Alek's, revealing a magnificent view. She skillfully shook her right high heel from her foot and then placed it delicately on his left thigh.
"Touch me, Alek."
He only obeyed the orders of his merchant, but Ana sounded very different from Pierce. It sounded more like a well-intentioned suggestion or request and not an order to hurt or kill. The Russian got a bit impatient and took his human hand again, only to place it as carefully as possible on the soft skin on the inside of her thigh. Iljana moved it gently until she reached the hem of her dress.
The ice-blue eyes of the Winter Soldier stared at their united hands. And then, after what felt like an eternity, he acted on his own. Fascinated, his fingers explored every inch of her exposed skin and slid over her pointed knee, down to her ankle, only to hike up to the fabric of her panties. Meanwhile Ana leaned back and tried to not enjoy his gentle touch. She was finally in her element – this was something she knew. She had the upper hand again and would savor this feeling every minute. The Russian watched his every move with interest and chewed on her lower lip when he stopped dangerously close to her panties. Didn't he dare to go further? Before she could tell him that he go on and test his limits, she noticed his metal hand forming a fist next to her. For a terrible moment the seventeen-year-old thought he was going to hit her, but the blow never came. And then she realized what was going on.
Confidently, she gripped his fist with her free hand and caressed it soothingly with her thumb. Alek paused and looked up at her as she fully closed her fingers around the metal of his hand and placed it on her bare thigh.
"You're cold," she whispered, pointing to the goose bumps that stretched across her leg. "Does it feel the same? My skin, I mean."
His cold eyes never left her questioning face.
"No."
Iljana nodded understandingly and looked at his arm. Without thinking further, she ran her hand over his silver plates again. "This technology is incredible," she muttered thoughtfully. "I'm sure you're very strong, aren't you?"
Ana's cheeks grew hot. This question came out of her mouth more often than she liked. Most men insisted on being adored by the prostitutes – especially the younger ones. But this time the Russian was serious.
"Yes," he grumbled behind his mask, still staring at her. Then there was silence again. You could only hear the regular breathing of the two in the room. The calm was almost pleasant.
The pressure her foot exerted on his thigh shifted slowly and gradually shifted up. When the girl stopped just before his loins, she looked up and waited for a reaction. He didn't give her any.
The Winter Soldier didn't know why he allowed her to touch him like that, but weirdly enough he could feel that his body reacted to her soft caress.
"May I sit down?" She asked curiously, eyes wandering to where her foot was placed. He stayed silent, of course, but when she let her leg slide to his side and gently rose from the hard table and took a seat on his lap, he didn't stop her.
"Is this okay? Tell me if it's going too fast for you."
Despite Iljana's worry of being hurt, she could somehow feel that he wasn't going to push her away so quickly.
She shook the left high heel from her foot and put it on the cold stone floor. Her dress was now rolled up so far that you could see her red panties completely. Carefree she reached for the hem of the black dress and pulled it over her head. The assassins gaze fell on her firm breasts, which only emphasized her youth.
"If you want, you can touch them."
It felt strange to give a man permission. Usually, her clients took what they wanted without thinking about what Ana would like. But the soldier made no move to touch her breasts.
Now that the Russian was so close to him, it was starting to bother her that she could only see his eyes. After all, she didn't hide her face either.
"Could you please take off your mask?"
For a moment it looked as if he wanted to answer her, but he decided against it and continued to stare blankly at Iljana. She sighed and shrugged. She was done doing everything herself. If he didn't want to fuck her, she could just get dressed and wait until she was finally let go. Just as she was about to slip off his lap, Alek raised his human hand and put it around his mask. There was a soft click sound when the mask came loose. He must have been surprised by his own action, because when the loose plastic frame fell from his face and crashed onto the stone floor, Ana could have sworn that he was trying to reach for it.
As if struck by lightning, she stared at him with her mouth slightly open. A straight nose and under it a set of full lips were revealed. Even though he was freshly shaved, the seventeen-year-old saw a shadow on his cheek that suggested he could grow a full beard if he wanted to. A strand of his black hair fell in his face and gave his appearance the finishing touch.
In her entire career as a waitress and (now) prostitute, Ana had never had such an attractive man as a suitor. He didn't look particularly old either, he was maybe in his early thirties, maybe even younger.
Ana quickly closed her mouth when she noticed that it was still open.
"Sorry, uh ..." Embarrassed, she shook her head and looked at her hands, which she had unconsciously placed between his chest and his stomach. She almost pulled them away. "You look different than expected."
The seventeen-year-old chewed nervously on her lower lip and looked up at him again. His eyes pierced her with a look that would bring any woman to her knees. However, since Iljana was sitting on him and both hands were already leaning against his hard chest, it was not possible for her to simply fall over. Her heart was pounding against her ribs again and she had to try to keep her breathing under control. There was a nerve-wracking tension around them.
The streak that hung on his face wiggled slightly as he put his arms on the right and left of her on the table. Iljana should have felt locked in, but all she felt was a strong tug in her stomach. She raised her hand uncertainly and stroked the annoying streak from his face. His cold eyes watched her calculated. Instead of dropping her hand again and giving him a little bit of privacy, she put her index finger against his cheekbone and ran it up to his perfectly shaped nose. Now he was the one who seemed surprised. Although he didn't look as stupid as Ana must have done, his lips cracked open and she could feel his warm breath against her face. She wished she could read his mind.
The Russian ran her finger down to his lips and gently stroked them. When she got to his chin, she felt the scratchy stubble that was already coming out of his skin. Her other fingers now joined in and together they slid over his cheek into his full hair to gently scratch the scalp with her nails. Iljana knew what she was doing and the proof of her knowledge and ability was the penetrating look of Alek, who silently asked her for more.
Ana put her feet on the cold stone floor and continued to slide onto his lap. Their mids were pressed against each other now and with an excitingly beating heart she noticed that something was pressed prominently against her butt.
Her second hand pressed into his warm neck and brought his face closer to hers. The desire to throw her principles overboard and put her lips on his grew with every passing second.
"Can I?"
The question hovered in the air between them. If Madame Lémieux could see her now... One of her most important rules, which she told her mentorés over and over again, was that under no circumstances could they kiss their suitors. It was absolutely unprofessional and led some clients to develop feelings for the girls. But Ana somehow knew that Alek wasn't the type of man who would cling to her like a burdock if she crossed that line with him. Dimitri was the first and only man she had kissed before. It's strange that sex was more normal for the seventeen-year-old than the much more innocent act of mouths lying on top of each other.
Iljana knew he would not answer her, but she waited a few seconds to be sure. Her breath mingled with his as she continued to press against his neck. He allowed it.
Before she could overthink her actions her lips were already pressed against his. The knot in her stomach twisted a little tighter. Without being cocky, she leaned her upper body against Alek's and now reached into his black hair with her second hand. Her lower lip slid between his two as she tilted her head a little more to the side. Until then, the soldier had been passive towards Iljana's intrusiveness, but when she ran her fingernails over his neck and finally gripped his cheek so she could press her mouth against his even more, his self-control slowly broke.
Ana stifled a gasp when she felt his mouth open a little more for her. Promptly she stroked his cheek as a reward and pushed her pelvis forward. Alek wasn't prepared for that and grabbed her hips in alarm. Without ending the kiss, Iljana put a soothing hand on his chest and let the warmth leak through his rough jacket. It wasn't long before he loosened his grip.
She started moving her lips against his again and tested the water with a small forward movement of her pelvis. This time, instead of crushing her with his inhuman strength, he swallowed a strange sound that wanted to come from his throat. Ana couldn't help but gently bit his lower lip, only to then carefully lick with the tip of her tongue over it. Now he couldn't help but groan in surprise.
Reluctantly, she broke away from him, but their faces hovered just a few millimeters in front of each other.
"Open your mouth," she whispered, looking down at him with half-closed eyelids. He did not question what she asked of him and opened his mouth slightly. "Don't get scared again," she murmured against his lips.
She kissed him again, but after a moment her tongue slid between his teeth.
The Winter Soldier didn't know if he liked this new feeling. He was about to decide that he didn't want to feel it anymore when Ana found what she was looking for. His eyebrows rose as her tongue wrapped around his and he could taste a hint of berry. He changed his mind immediately. As if in a frenzy, he closed his previously wide eyes and pressed closer to the Russian woman to have more of this wonderful taste she provided him with.
His hands had unconsciously strayed to her waist in the course of their hot tongue play. Iljana's hips circled automatically and an incredibly good feeling buzzed through the soldiers groin. Both exhaled heavily and Ana repeated the motion. Her hands found their way back into his hair and tugged at it playfully. Intuitively, he grabbed one side of her backside and pressed it closer to the center of his body to reinforce this intoxicating feeling. Iljana gasped as the hard fabric of his pants rubbed against her sensitive skin. Her practiced fingers slid down Alek's upper body and opened the top button without difficulty, then immediately pulled the zipper, which was bulged outward by the erection underneath.
The soldier broke away from the Russian and took a deep breath. He didn't push her away, but his grip on her ass tightened.
"Everything okay?" Iljana's soft voice echoed in the room. His blue eyes didn't leave her face for a second. She watched him study every inch carefully and then stop on her lips. Ana swallowed nervously. She was aware that she was on thin ice and wanted to change that as soon as possible. An idea came to her mind.
Carefully, she rose from his lap, but was immediately pulled down again. A quiet “Uff” escaped the teens mouth. Alek stared at Iljana almost reproachfully.
"Hey," she whispered soothingly, clutching his face with both hands, "I'm going to sit on the table again and I want you to stand up for me."
Smiling slightly, she put her lips on his and stayed in that position for a moment. The soldier closed his eyes contentedly and grunted softly as his lower lip was pulled between her teeth. He pressed closer to the girl's body and slid his tongue into her hot mouth. She replied with a low moan and ran the tip of her tongue over his. She broke away from him far too quickly and suddenly got up so that Alek didn't have enough time to pull her down again.
"Come on," she murmured and took a step back, then slid her butt onto the cold table top. He followed her request hastily and almost jumped up to stand between her spread legs. Without hesitation he now reached out for her face and led it to his again. It was as if he couldn't get enough of her lips.
Meanwhile, Ana tugged on the waistband of his black pants and pulled them down his hips bit by bit. She stopped pulling when she noticed that his erection was finally jumping out of the fabric and leaned back so far that the soldier had to part with her again. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned further onto the table, then lifted her lower body to remove her panties. When the last barrier between them was gone, Alek put his metal arm on the tabletop. It didn’t look like he wanted her to stop. He just needed something to calm down so he wouldn't hurt Ana in his haste.
"Come here."
The Winter Soldier did as he was told.
"Touch me."
He raised his human hand and placed it on her stomach. Without waiting for further instructions, it slid up and gradually pushed under the fine material of Iljana's bra. She hastily reached behind her back and opened the lock.
Now that his hand could go up without any problems, the cold skin covered one of her hard nipples. Ana subconsciously crossed her legs around his waist and pressed his erection against her pubic bone. For a few seconds she kept pressing her calves against Aleks's pelvis with a slow rhythm, so that his shaft slid up and down over her damp entrance.
As if struck by lightning, however, she winced as the soldier groaned softly and started to push forward.
"Wait!"
Surprised by her outburst, he took a step back. He didn't know what he did wrong, and he frowned irritated.
"Sorry," Iljana apologized with red cheeks, "I just forgot something."
She quickly turned to her fur coat and fiddled with it. When she finally discovered the hidden side pocket, she took out a small, square packet from its depths. She hastily tore it open on the side and fished for the contents.
"I almost forgot."
Her gaze wandered to his member and grabbed it confidently. The soldier didn't know what to do. She still wasn't a threat to him, but when she rolled some kind of second skin over him, he wasn't so sure anymore.
Iljana must have noticed his discomfort. She let go of him and smiled gently. She rested her hands on the tabletop and slid to the edge. She warily put her legs back around his waist and pulled him closer to her. He didn't fight back. The Teen adjusted herself so that he could get inside her without any further help and waited for him to do just that. She looked up at him expectantly. Again, she pressed her calves against his pelvis and he followed the movement. Ana laid down cautiously on the table and put her head on her fur coat when she felt Alek at her entrance. She brought his face back to hers impatiently. As if in a trance, the soldier pressed forward and hesitantly entered her. Her youthful skin stretched over his length and took him in, inch by inch. When he was halfway inside her, an unexpected gasp left Iljana’s mouth.
"Come on, Alek. Take me already,” she moaned, spreading her legs further apart so that he could slide deeper into her.
He put both arms next to her head to get a better grip and pushed himself completely into her with a jerk of his hips. Both trembled and held their breath. Iljana ran a hand into the soldier's black hair and pulled hard on it. Alek gritted his teeth and grunted deeply, but couldn't say that he didn't like it. They breathed out a sigh together – the Russian louder than the soldier. He pulled back until only the tip of his shaft was still inside her and without a warning pushed into her as far as he could go. Ana moaned startled and clawed into his scalp. The Winter Soldier stopped moving and looked at her closely. He couldn't hurt her, that was an order from his merchant. But instead of insulting him for his rude manner, Ana just raised her head and pressed her warm lips back to his. She wrapped her legs tightly around him and literally forced him to continue thrusting into her. It didn't take long for Alek to develop a rhythm that was slow but always so jerky and deep that Ana had to hold on to the edge of the table in order to not be pushed over it by his pure strength. After a particularly powerful thrust, the soldier groaned overwhelmed and buried his face between her neck and shoulder. He didn't know exactly why, but by some animalistic instinct he bit into the girl's skin – not hard enough to draw blood, but to mark her. Iljana gasped and skillfully tightened her muscles around Alek's shaft. He immediately detached from her neck and groaned louder than before.
His metal arm, which was still passively placed next to her body, buried itself under her back and slid to her butt to lift it up. The new angle made it possible to penetrate deeper. He buried his human hand in the red-brown hair of the seventeen-year-old, supporting her neck as she threw back her head, panting.
The soldier felt an unusual tremor. His legs started to twitch and his metal hand gripped Ana's waist a little harder to hold it in place. His rhythm accelerated and he closed his eyes and grimaced in ecstasy. His mouth opened and after every thrust the most satisfied noises that only a man could make slipped out of him. Something contracted in the lower half of his stomach. His body trembled again. Iljana felt him starting to pulsate inside her. Unfortunately, she was still far from her salvation, but instead she could concentrate even more on Alek's.
For the last time she tensed her inner muscles around him and spread her legs a bit further. His deep moans now drowned out hers. Suddenly he grabbed Ana's hips with both hands and lifted her body off the table. She made a startled sound as she was raised and clung to the soldier's neck.
The Winter Soldier was strong, but her being so skinny made this position even easier. She rocked up and down in his arms for a few seconds and then Alek suddenly leaned forward, gripped her back with his human hand, gripped the table with his other, and suddenly fell silent. Ana was hanging directly under his face and could watch every phase of his orgasm. At first his member pulsed rapidly while his eyebrows contracted with exertion. The moment he exhaled in relief, Ana felt him spurting violently into her.
It took a while till he gently puts the girl down on the table. Instead of pulling himself straight out of her, he put his head between her breasts, breathing heavily, and shifted a good part of his body weight onto the Russian.
"Don't be angry with me, but do you eat whole cows for breakfast? God, you are heavy,“ she laughed softly and closed her eyes exhausted. He supported himself with his arms to the left and right of her body, allowing Ana to breathe freely again. When the seventeen year old opened her eyes, she inevitably stared into Alek’s ice blue ones.
At first they just looked at each other and studying the facial features of one another. Iljana noticed that the soldier was still hard and looked down at their merged bodies in awe. She looked up again and opened her mouth to ask if he had taken some pills to uplift his sex drive, but before she could get rid of her cheeky comment, Alek kissed her.
Perplexed, she returned his affection. His lips pressed gently against hers, nothing of the urgency was there anymore - just a tenderness that neither of them otherwise experienced. Ana cocked her head to the side and gently brushed the tip of her tongue against the soldier's lower lip. However, he did not open his mouth. Instead, he gripped her cheek with one hand and pressed her lips closer to his. Iljana was confused. A customer has never treated her so lovingly after paid sex. Not even Dimitri. She slowly pulled away from him and chewed thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek.
"You're louder than I expected," she murmured, trying not to grin. However, her mischievously flashing eyes betrayed her.
The soldier looked down at the girl and looked at her pretty face.
"It was good."
Ana raised her eyebrows in surprise. That was actually a whole sentence – not a simple "yes" or "no". Her stupid heart suddenly pounded faster at the sound of his harsh voice. He was not a Russian and also not a Slovak or the like. She blinked up to him, amazed at this new discovery. His warm hand was still on her cheek, while his thumb started to stroke her soft skin, just like Ana had done with him in the beginning.
"Uh ... I'm happy to hear that, Alek."
It looked like he was going to answer her, but a noise across the room made them both flinch. The previously locked door opened a crack and Oleg's voice shouted over.
"Time to go, Ana. You have five minutes."
The soldier gritted his teeth and sat up. Their bodies were still united and he looked down with interest. He slipped out of her slowly, but hesitated and thought for a moment. He experimentally pushed his hips forward and listened to Ana's soft moan with satisfaction.
"I never thought I'd say that to a customer, but I wouldn't mind a second round." She sighed again when Alek repeated his movement. "But you heard Oleg. I have to go."
With this statement, he pulled himself completely out of her. Iljana slowly sat up and looked up at him. He stood helplessly in the room, his pants hanging loosely around his waist, while his erection protruded prominently in front of her face. The Russian eyed the soldier hungrily. She lifted her right hand to hold him and rolled the used condom off his member. After she was done examining the liquid inside the rubber, she knotted the opening carefully. Alek didn't move and watched her carelessly drop the condom on the table next to her coat. The proof of her work.
The gentle smile she gave him when she looked up again sent all his blood south. Ana still had a hand around him and was fascinated to see how a drop of pre cum formed on top of the tip. She had to hold herself back so as not to lean forward and lick him clean with her tongue.
The Russian sighed exhausted and let go of Alek. With a smooth movement, she jumped off the table and bent to pick up her panties from the floor. She bit her lower lip, lost in thought.
"Here," she said softly, handing her underwear to the soldier. "You men like trophies."
Whether you could show off with someone like her was another question of course, the Russian thought bitterly. She turned away from him and reached for her bra to hide her frown. Ana quickly got dressed while Alek straightened his clothes and stood behind her like a statue when he was done. She turned and held out her coat. He grabbed it carefully.
"Be a gentleman and help me."
When he didn't move, Iljana looked up at him. Alek stared at her blankly, but the seventeen-year-old recognized the storm behind his eyes. She didn't want him to riot about her abrupt farewell.
Without her high heels, she was almost at the same eye–level as the soldier. (Even his heavy boots only gave him one or two inches in size.) It was easy for her to put her head back a little and press her swollen lips against his. The kiss was short, but it allowed her to distract him long enough to pull her coat back out of his loose grip.
"Goodbye, Alek," she whispered against his mouth and quickly took a step to the side to collect her shoes. At the same moment the door opened again and this time Oleg pushed it all the way open. Without looking back, she hurried to the bodyguard and slipped past him. The security guard from earlier looked over her head and raised his eyebrows in irritation.
"Iwanow, please accompany our guests to the car. I'll be right there,” he grumbled and stepped around the girl.
Oleg put a hand on Ana's shoulder and moved her towards the other uniformed man who was waiting for them at the security door at the end of the hall.
Just before they were out of earshot, the teen heard the guard's angry words behind her.
"Where the fuck is your mask, soldier?"