by Amarie Avant
“Panties first.” He sniffs.
I slide my panties down and entice him with the sight of me lifting my tight dress. The material hugs where the apex of my sex meets. The bulbous part of my ass is on display, lips glistening. This man can get me off with a smoldering gaze.
“Stop.”
Following his command, I await another order from the fighter. My inner and outer folds start to jump, dancing in anticipation.
He gestures toward the bed. “Climb up, move slow.”
When I turn around, a subtle hitch comes from his throat. I clench the sheets for a second. My limbs are unsteady. The air is cool against my ass, against my pussy that’s peeking between my cheeks as I climb up toward the headboard. To be honest, I love the smell of Vassili after a match. We’ve joked about it before. He’s a sportsman. I don’t care.
“Hold formation, Zariah,” he says.
My nails are imbedded in the ultra-soft sheets now. I expect a swat to my ass, but Vassili comes over. I can feel the warmth of his mouth as he breathes in my pussy. I clutch harder as he presses his lips against my throbbing labia.
“I missed you,” he tells my pussy. My slick walls spasm. The warmth of his breath, reminding my treasure of how lonely it is without his dick.
“Vassili,” I murmur.
My husband curses under his breath; a low rumble of a growl sends shivers along my spine.
“Shhhh…” Again his breath sends tiny thrills against my slit. “I remember drinking a fifth of vodka out your cunt, Zar.”
Callused hands cup my flesh as he rubs my ass and hips. He explores my dark brown curves while eating my pussy from behind. His hand slams down at that very spot. At the same time, pain radiates across my skin, Vassili’s tongue plunges deep into me.
Heaven flashes before me. “Fu-fuck, Vassili. Oh, do it again.”
“I do it again, Zar, it has to hurt more.”
My lower back curves. His palm continues to slither over one ass cheek and then the other. A hard breath comes from Vassili. His mouth moves faster than before, licking up all my juices as I rock. My body cums on his stiff tongue.
My body sags. The first orgasm was enough to leave me depleted, but I wouldn’t dream of falling out of position on my hands and knees.
Grunting barbarically, he pulls out of his sweats and drops his trunks. I gawk. There’s n shame in my desire for my husband. He picks up the belt that must’ve been discarded at some other time. My gaze flies over the colorful etching of tattoos in his arms as Vassili weighs the belt. The belt slams down onto my ass cheek. With it, an imaginary inferno strikes my skin. He holds up the belt, poised to offer another strike, but stops. With the left side of his lips cocked, Vassili drops the belt. His hand comes down over my ass crack and pussy. His fingertips offer a surprising sting against my clit. Hand cupped, he continues to spank my pussy. Delirious delight clouds my brain.
“More, Daddy,” I beg.
There isn’t an ounce of pain, only pleasure as it builds. I welcome the eruption of my cumming in his palm.
He continues to smack until my pussy creates a sing-song sound of the wetness he covets. “That’s right, Zar. Get that pussy wet for me. This little spanking has my entire hand soaking wet.”
As the sound continues, I clutch the sheets again. Vassili slides down beside me, his colossal frame commands much of the bed. He holds up his candy-coated fingers and palm, then slides them across my cheek.
“Hey,” I gasp, though my tongue dips out for a taste.
While commanding the entire bed, Vassili reaches up, grips a fist full of my hair, and licks the wetness from my cheek. He fists my hair, bringing me close enough to lick my cheek.
I move from my doggie-style position until I’m sitting on my bottom. I take in every brick that’s come together to make his body. He’s staring at me again, the way any woman would crave for a man to desire her. I’m lost in his mesmerizing eyes, cheeks burning once more like I’m new to this. Like my first time.
I notice how quiet the room is, aside from Natasha’s dreamy sigh. Vassili holds up his wet hand. He paws his cock, massages his balls, and arches an eyebrow. That look tells me I am ready to service him.
My eyes fly to his erection, soaring like a friggen skyscraper in the city. I clasp his cock with one hand, ready to deep throat him. The back of my hand sears with pain as he slaps it.
“Damn you, Vassili,” I growl, a giddy chuckle still riding through me too. The second my tongue tastes his salty cock. I proceed to deep throat him. No hands per his silent, almost lethal request. The back of my hand continues to prickle in pain as I knock my throat with his lengthy erection.
“Relax your jaws,” he replies.
I start to look up at him. His stiff Russian accent is different. Not by much, but I wonder how Kong’s ordeal has heaped onto everything else. My tongue massages the veins on the sides of his fat cock before I pull him back inside of my mouth. Not an inch is left inside of my mouth. I’m full of cock as I suck with vigor. I catch a rhythm, twining my tongue around his hefty girth. His cock hypnotizes me enough to take the beast to the head. An ache begins between my thighs. With my mouth working him hard, I fuck myself happy too. Another orgasm is ready to drench down my hands when—
“Good, good.” He flips us until my face is smothered in the pillow and his cock is knocking at my tight ass.
With a naughty laugh from deep in his abdomen, Vassili moves so quickly that my back arches. His cock spears deep inside of my pussy. My eyes roll back in my head.
“Oh shit . . .” A deep, low groan vibrates across my tonsils. “Yes, yes!”
My pussy walls quiver, attempting to strangle his cock as he hits it from the back. Part of me wants my pussy to put a death grip on his piece for him to cum in an instant. The other part of me is in ecstasy that this night will continue to last until the first light. While he strokes my valley with his manhood, I reach between us and work my clit.
“That’s right, fuck your little clit,” Vassili groans, transitioning from endearing to full-blown alpha.
I sigh, submitting this moment to memory. While on top of me, his chest crushes my back. Vassili’s powerful body is running along me. His strong hands cup my ass and glide across my curves.
“Vassili,” I purr from deep down in my throat, drowning in another orgasm.
“Zar-iii-ah,” he groans. “You’re so fucking wet, girl. Don’t make me do it. Don’t make me cum yet.”
The orgasm torpedoes. My teeth bite down into the pillow. A million sparks torture my body. I want to beg Vassili to cum. I’m speechless, can’t open my mouth except to moan.
“Nyet, not yet.” Vassili’s hand clutches the back of my neck, and he moves his dick like a piston. It’s faster and faster so that he can please me longer—when I could never be happier. The heaviness of his magnificent erection stretches my slick walls so good, satiating my entire body. Vassili is all dirty grunts and cusses as he works his way deep inside of me.
I glance back at him. His muscles compress and relax with each rapid thrust. Licking my lips, I slowly start to work my ass against him. Tears blur my vision.
“Vassili,” I scream. He’s clamping down on my clit as I cum all over him again.
“Fuck, Zar, keep trying to milk my cock,” he groans.
His words sound like pure erotica in my ear. My ass claps hard against his taut body. His balls thrust at my leg. I work my clit with the same power his dick drives through my body. “Damn, I’m cumming, Vassili, I’m cumming.”
My face falls forward. His thrusts reach deep into my throbbing walls. My legs are too weak to hold me up. Vassili reaches forward, clasping the back of my neck, forcing his cock into me. I have to turn my face to stop from suffocating.
“Oh my, oh shit,” I start stuttering as he begins to explode. Vassili yanks me up and plants my face against his groin, offering me the taste of life.
My eyes peel open. Across from me, Natasha is still sprawled in the crib. Her sheets
have been kicked down to her feet in the middle of the night. I turn over in the bed, almost expecting to be disappointed.
Why? I’m not sure.
Vassili’s dark gray eyes—he swears they aren’t gray—are peering up at the ceiling. He glances over at me. “You okay about all of this?”
I hide a smile. “About what?”
The sex was so good, so mind freeing last night that moments pass before the rest of our ‘current’ lives dawn on us: Danushka, Anatoly, all the drama from his family. I say, “You were Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde last night. First, you reminded me of the day I fell in love with you—at first sight. That should never have been possible; then you gave me rough sex and . . .” I groan, licking my lips. “How long have we been asleep?”
His mouth presses down on mine for a deep in-love kiss. “An hour, Zar. That was good. And you know I’m not talking about that, girl. I’m talking about, Danny, Noriega, and—” His words transform into a low, seeded roar.
“Hey, don’t go all Hulk-Smash on me, Vassili. I knew what you were referring to. We are a team, so I focused on the good stuff.” I reach between us to graze my fingers over his square jaw. We haven’t addressed Noriega, not in the slightest. How do you mention a dead man when someone else is a more significant threat to your life? Skimming the line of his chiseled features, I say, “Last night was perfect. Every single second I’m with you, I’m so happy, baby. You saved me, Vassili.”
3
Vassili
Why the fuck does she have to say that?
That’s just it. I didn’t save Zariah. Never deserved her. Last night I might have been able to blind my wife for a moment with good dick, but dark times are coming.
Yesterday, I was a world away when my wife and daughter needed me the most.
My mother abandoned me and my sister, Sasha.
My baby sister got it worse than me.
I’ve finally gotten something to call my own—Zariah, Natasha, the little boy that’s just starting to in my wife’s belly. My wife’s stomach is still flat, but she has to be giving me a son.
We’d had a massive fight after Igor’s death. I’d left her to fight with my father and didn’t keep up with the cases Zariah has taken. She’s a homemaker now—but she doesn’t know that yet. The fight dug its roots in me. It made me feel unsteady, and I didn’t follow through. She’d said, “Vassili, you go away to fight in Australia in three weeks. I dare you to run off before then. I will find you and drag your ass home. Now, do you want to see the ultrasound? That’s your gesture to me that you plan to take care of our home.”
Instead of taking care of our home, I am headed to Australia. I’d left my life, my most valuable possessions at home, so that Zariah could handle a case.
She and my daughter are my home. These things cannot happen again. Once Danushka is handled, I will see about anyone else affiliation with Noriega. Hell, that bitch of a half-sister might be hard to shake. I’ll have to reach out to my father before then, reach out, and not tell him that his own daughter has a hit on his head.
He’ll think I traded teams though I’ve never been a fan of him, the Bratva, or her. For now, I concentrate on Zariah. She thinks I saved her.
Fuck, I did nothing.
“How?” I ask.
My wife smirks. “Thank you works.”
“That bitch saved you from Noriega. She brings it up every chance she gets.”
Zariah clasps my jaw. “The night before last, I arrived with Danushka. You and I didn’t get a chance to talk, Vassili. You had the match . . . Your win got overshadowed by Kong.”
“I’m not thinking about him,” I growl.
“Okay, let’s talk. I’d rather have waited until we were not in bed. Maybe we could have skipped this whole discussion about Danny. Maybe she will disappear. But she’s irrelevant?”
I scoff.
“You want to know why?”
“Nyet,” I mutter, shrugging my shoulders.
“Because she’s one person. One vindictive, emotional person. Who taught me not to fight with emotions, Vassili?”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I consider how I’m not all that confident my wife is a match for Danushka. Should I tell her so? Fuck no! I mumble, “I did.”
“That’s right, you taught me, Vassili.” She cups my cheeks, looking up at me. “You’re a beast in the cage, and you’ve trained me to fight too. She’s our opponent. We’re a—”
I roll off her.
Here we go.
The “we are a team” bullshit got me into the latter situation with her. I set my mouth to grant her every lie she needs to hear, but the words don’t come out.
Zariah bolts up into a seated position, reaching out for me. “Vassili?”
We will never be a team. Well, unless that shit has anything to do with teaching Natasha or my son with a sport. Other than that, I don’t need her by my side when I handle my family.
“Baby, we haven’t had a moment alone until late last night. Thank you for sharing a lovely night with me, but you brought this up. So, we’re at that point where it’s imperative that we discuss how to get rid of Dan—”
“Zariah,” I growl. My heart is ready to implode in my chest. I never wanted her around another Resnov, to begin with. Only me and only blood—the kids we were to have. I lie, “We will figure something out together. Not here. The bitch is in the same place. Let’s wait till we get home. Alright?”
I only needed this lie to get her off my back about Danushka. Other than for her safety, I’d never lie to Zariah. My cousins and I need to have a chat. We can’t do that with Natasha and Zariah here. My family needs to go home under the protection of someone.
Mikhail and Yuri are sitting on stools, leaning across the pony table when Zariah and I walk out of our bedroom. Natasha is on Zariah’s hip. My wife presses her hands over Natasha’s ears and nudges her chin to Danushka. The bitch is out cold on a pullout couch. She’s indecent. I glance away and gag.
“We should . . .” Zariah begins to whisper, pointing at the front door.
Natasha squirms and pushes at her.
Yuri holds up an index finger. We can leave right now. The look in Mikhail’s eye warns that leaving isn’t his top priority. Months ago, I found out Danushka had sent me emails about a deceased fucking cop—who wasn’t a fucking cop. It was her attempt at a brain fuck. It had taken Yuri’s father ages to find her. Malich exhausted all resources before Danushka reached out. I have to keep an eye on my older cousin, Mikhail, the doctor. He’s liable to forget all the preaching and praying he’s done in his life. He’ll fuck all that good shit up for his baby brother, Igor.
“Don’t leave on my account,” Danushka says in a muffled voice. “Oh, and Zariah, I thought you’d be the last one to suggest such a thing. Shame on you, friend.”
Zariah stops toddler boxing our daughter, who’s winning the fight. “We were heading to breakfast . . . leave us all alone.”
I grip her about the waist. The fucking attorney in her was ready to debrief me a while ago with a meaningless pep talk. My lips land against her earlobe. “We’re a team, Zar,” I mumble in her ear, hoping to God that I sound legit.
“Can you cover yourself?” Zariah grits at her now. I’ve kept my gaze away from the little psycho, so I start over to my cousins.
Yuri whispers to me, “Can you leave Zar and Natasha with—”
I give a low growl, “Yuri, how the fuck can you ask that?”
“We need a game plan,” Mikhail grits.
“I’m sorry,” Yuri caves.
His big brother glowers at him now. The strong front they’d had a second ago has disappeared.
“They’re friends,” Mikhail whispers back. “As far as Danny’s word goes, Zar and Natasha have to be safe. Let the girls have a day shopping before we go to Italy. While they’re away, we can figure out how to get Danny and Horace. Kill two birds. . .”
Zariah gasps.
All of our eyes go toward her, even Natasha. Danushk
a holds out an iPhone.
My wife blubbers, “Th-that . . . that . . . that . . .”
Danushka turns toward us, using a throw pillow between her chest and still fisting the phone. “My brat, Grigor, has . . . Excuse me, Vassili, I mean our brat—”
“Half,” I grumble.
“You think Grigor is some little shit. He’s a sharpshooter. Anatoly never knew how important his son was to the Bratva because he was stuck dangling on your balls. Everyone thought Grigor was the brains. Vassili, you are brawns. But me and Grigor—we’re brawns and brains. And that’s why you’re going to help us kill—”
“Zariah, what the fuck?” I cut her off as Zariah holds her hands over her face. Her fingers are trembling.
Danushka glances at the iPhone, and then rolls her eyes. “I must’ve clicked out of the video application. As I said, Grigor is a sharpshooter.”
Zariah exclaims, “Gr-Grigor murdered one of the secretaries at our law firm. From across the street!”
My half-sister pats her shoulder. “Sheesh, sweetheart, you act as if you weren’t less than a foot away from a body. Hello, we left Noriega’s body to one of my husband’s men. You know death, now.”
“How many men does your husband have,” Yuri asks.
Silence ensues as everyone now turns to him. He shrugs. “I thought I’d try it. Zariah tried it earlier. Why not, eh?”
“Oh, cousin, my husband has so many men on his team. We couldn’t possibly vet a seat on the Seven—Anatoly’s seat—without foot soldiers.”
“Well, now we know,” he gestures. “Lots of men.”
“And Anatoly has removed his blessing from your father, Malich. Yuri, you should consider joining—”
“The fuck he has,” I growl. “My . . . my . . .” Shit, I almost called the mudak, my pops. There’s a first time for everything.