Christof Brutal (Bad Russian Book 12)

by Alice May Ball

  “It’s completely black. Wait… you’re right. It’s not. There’s a faint red glow. There must be little red lights somewhere.”

  It takes a few minutes for our eyes to adjust to the glow of the LEDs. Slowly she emerges for me in the red monochrome. Her curves are so thrilling.

  Her eyes twinkle and gleam. The scent of her rises as the darkness makes her hyper-alert and the whisper of her breath makes my blood pump hot. I’m just beginning to see how hard it’s going to be for me to keep my hands off her.

  My throat is thick. I have to take slow breaths before I can speak. “We can get the lights back on anytime.”

  My senses are so alert now, the sound of her lips as they part fattens my cock. She whispers. Funny how natural that is in the dark. “You think there are motion sensors.”

  We both stay very still. The quiet and the dark are a cocoon, a shell, blanketing us.

  She looks down, pressing her tongue between her lips. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I’m sorry I ran out of the patisserie. And I’m sorry I got you into this.”

  It’s so hard not to reach for her now.

  I jump down off the table. Lights come on as soon as my feet touch the floor. “Sorry,” I say, “I should have warned you.”

  “About Bosman?” The back of her hand goes up to shield her eyes. She squints.

  “That the lights would come on.”

  “No, it’s OK. I guessed.” She tilts her hand so her eyes are shaded, but looking into mine. “One of us had to do something. Or… you know.” She takes the water bottle from her purse. “But it will be nice, having it dark for the movie. Shame we don’t have any popcorn.” She offers the bottle to me. “We’d better drink in sips, right?”

  “It will be easier to sleep, too.” I take a sip and hand the bottle back.

  “Yeah. Because I’m feeling so sleepy.” Her hand stays on mine before she takes the water bottle back.

  I tell her, “We’re not going to…”

  “No. I know. We’re not. It might be hard, though. Even though I’m terrified of you and I don’t trust you an inch.”

  “Don’t talk like that.”

  “Why? It’s true.”

  “It only makes me want to fuck you all the harder.”

  She pulls her legs up under her and pats the table beside her. “Come on. Let’s watch the movie.”

  “Okay.” I jump back up. The steel table has just enough room for the two of us. “It would be hard, anyway, fucking on cold metal.”

  “Have you ever done it on steel?”

  “I’ve never done it at all.”

  “You lie.”

  “Seriously.” Then I tell her, “Okay, listen. Let’s talk until the lights go off, all right? But not about fucking.”

  “Good idea.” she says, “Or about lovemaking? Fingering, cocksucking, sixty-nine-ing?”

  “Stop that.” She’ll drive me mad if she goes on like that.

  “I was just trying to clear the air.”

  “Good idea. Is that working for you?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Okay. So tell me something about you. How did you come to work in insurance?”

  “Really? Go on like that and I’ll start to believe you never got laid.”

  “Good. That’s kind of the idea.”

  “Because if you said that in the patisserie, not only would I not have believed you, but a line of women would have formed at the table.” Her eyes narrow, “And Bunny would have hopped up at the front of it.”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t give me that. ‘Who.’ You’re a terrible liar, as well as a hopeless bank robber.”

  “What Bunny? Who or what is Bunny?”

  “The waitress who practically poured herself over you.”

  “Our waitress?”

  The lights go off. As my eyes adjust, my ears tune in to the sound of her breath. And the rustle of her clothes. And the soft, warm scent of her skin. I hope that movie is as funny as I remember it because I need distraction so much.

  Chapter 12

  Her

  It seems I’m going to spend my last night on earth, still a virgin, locked in a vault with the sexiest bank robber in the world, watching Bridesmaids.

  In the dark, he looks younger, which is cruel. It’s hard to keep his age in my mind. And even when I can, it doesn’t help.

  He pulls out his phone.

  “I wonder what’s in all of these boxes. Don’t you?” My voice comes out low and throaty.

  “Papers. Cash. Probably some jewels. Things people shouldn’t have, mostly.” His voice is low. A burr of quiet strength. “Things they don’t want the taxman to see and things they stole.”

  “Don’t you wish you’d brought your bank robbing kit with you?”

  “A drill and a sack and we’d be rich.”

  I watch his lips. Colors play on his face from the light of the phone screen. Then I remember. Bridesmaids starts with Annie in bed with John Hamm. I know it’s goofy and John Hamm is a complete dick in it, but they are in bed together.

  He’s about to hit the play button. I touch his hand. The shock jolts a sigh out of me.

  His eyes lock on mine. My mouth is dry. I lick my lips. I say, “Wait…”

  He sits up. I straighten up, too. We’re up on our knees. Facing each other. He says, “What…?”

  The table hurts my knee. I try to shift my balance. I wobble and I feel like I’m going to fall.

  He catches me.

  Holds my waist. And my ass. He could let go. I feel he’s like going to. I grab his hand.

  “Max,” his mouth takes mine.

  My body bursts into life. His arms curl around me. Taking possession. Every part of me moves and stretches to be pressed against every part of him.

  His lips, his mouth take me and own me. I grip the back of his head. Pull him. Hard.

  Him squeezing my ass makes me explode inside. My hips rock and push against the hot ridge in his pants.

  When we part, our mouths stay close. My voice is a scraping whisper. “We’re probably going to die in the morning, anyway. Right?”

  “We’re not.” His breath tastes dark and sweet.

  He kisses me again. I roll in his arms, like waves on the sea. Then, I say, “You’re just saying that.”

  “I am. But we’re not.”

  I watch his mouth as I tell him, “We could pretend.”

  “I don’t need to pretend anything. Not with you.”

  I push my breasts against him as hard as I can. He grabs one. Through the bra, he squeezes. My nipple stings and hardens. I’m so wet, I can smell my own heat.

  “Max,” he strokes my throat and I quiver all over. “I shouldn’t do this. Not to you.”

  “You should, Christof.” I kiss him. Hard.

  Then he shakes his head, “If I do, you’ll be mine. Completely.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not like one of your one-and-done Americans.” He kisses me again and pulls back, frowning. “You deserve better, Max. But if we do it, it’s forever,” there’s a vibration in his voice, “there’s no going back.”

  I want to shrug off my thin suit coat. I was going to let it drop when I remember the motion sensor on the floor. I unbutton my shirt.

  “Can we keep our clothes on? Would it work? I like the light like this.”

  “I want to see you.”

  “Please?” I kiss him hard. “There will be other times.” He’s not convinced. I kiss him again. I shiver inside as I run my hand over his shirt. Down his chest. The ridges of his abs. Down.

  Then through a groan, I tell him, “I love how we look like this. In red.”

  His mouth seizes on my throat, under my ear. He kisses, sucking hard down my neck. I reach back to unfasten the bra. His face plunges into my cleavage. As he sucks on my breasts, one at a time, I sit back on my heels. My back arches and my legs spread wide.

  “You’re mine, then,” his hand strokes my thigh and slides up, under my skirt. “N
ow and forever, Max.”

  “Yes. Yes, Christof.” I’m panting hard when his fingers hook the wet crotch of my pantyhose. He pulls his fingers up to his nose. then licks them. I pull his hand to me. Moan as I suck on his fingers.

  “That’s how you make me taste.”

  He goes back to my pussy, aching and throbbing, hungry for him.

  The nylon makes a harsh ripping sound as he tears a hole. The cool air makes me jump. Not as much as the touch of his fingers. He knows exactly where to press to make me cry out and fold over in two. “Christof! What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m making you all mine.”

  He runs his hand over the tops of my thighs. “Your legs? All mine.”

  He sucks my hard, pointed nipples, “Your tits? Mine.”

  He kisses me, hard and deep. My thighs stretch wider. My hips jerk. He says, “Your mouth. Your face. Your eyes. Your breath. All mine.”

  His hand dives back to my pussy. Slides roughly in through the side of my panties. His fingers work the length of my dripping lips. “Your puss. Mine.” His finger slips inside. “Mine. Now and forever.”

  Clenching, tingling vibrations start where my soft, wet walls clasp on his finger and spurt out through my thighs, my stomach and my breasts. My ass clenches and my hips rock.

  “Fuck me, Christof. Fuck me now.”

  I reach for him, but my hands shake and tremble. I claw at his shirt. Finally, I find his belt.

  His finger pushes higher. I coil and bounce. My mouth lands on his neck. The dark, musky taste of him makes me bite down. I tug his belt open as his thumb flips my hooded bean into orbit.

  I’m struggling, fumbling with his pants. He rises up.

  He commands me. “Lie back.”

  I do what he tells me. I watch, shuddering as he straightens in front of me and opens his pants. When he hauls out his cock, I’m ready to faint.

  “That?” My voice is a cracked whisper, “All that?” It’s terrifying. It’s too huge. My head is shaking.

  He lays a hand between my breasts. “Relax.”

  “Are you going to tell me it won’t hurt?”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t promise that.”

  “Then do it fast.”

  His grin is evil. “I won’t promise that, either.”

  “Christof!”

  He lies on top of me. For all his cruel laugh, he lies so gently, I can’t believe there’s anything to be afraid of. Then I feel him slide into my entrance.

  “Christof! It’s too big!”

  Then he spears into me. Hard and merciless, he pushes up inside me. My legs wrap around him. I grab his hair in my fists and my teeth clench. My walls flutter and spasm around his hot ridges.

  “You’re mine, Max,” he looks in my eyes, “All mine.”

  The pain is sharp and hot. I need more of it. I rock and slam my hips against him. When his balls slap against the bottom of my ass cheeks, it spurs me on. Makes me want him deeper.

  I pull my knees back to lift my ass. His fat pole hammers higher, making me gasp when the head of him scrapes in my folds at the front. He stretches my lips till they’re sore, but I still want to have him deeper. The pain is like a hot poker inside me. Waterfalls break and burst all around it and I can’t get enough.

  I claw at the round, hard cheeks of his ass. Bite on his neck and his shoulder. Squeeze on my tit, and twist and stretch my nipple. The glow of his eyes in the low, red light and the rasp of his cock sends me over the edge and off a higher peak. I burst in a series of thumps like underground explosions. Delayed and muffled. Devastating.

  My legs wrap around him again. My heels kick against him and I claw at his back as he fills me, hot, fat and hard.

  Just when I think my pussy can’t take any more, it clenches, trying to grip. But it can’t because I’m gushing. Again. Hot. Wet. Helpless.

  His cock thickens and pulses, hard. His face reddens and the muscles in his neck knot. I’m wrapped as tight around him as I can get. My voice shakes, wet and loose, “Fuck me, Christof. Fuck me!”

  I’m breaking like a massive wave, brimming like a boiling ocean. Thick bolts of sticky cum splash and burn me inside.

  I don’t know how long we lie, wrapped together, sighing and holding. Squeezing and stroking. Whispering each other’s names. He stays inside me. I don’t ever want to let him go.

  At some point, I’m sobbing into his chest.

  “Max.”

  “Christof.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m great,” I tell him, “I’m fucking wonderful.” I pull back and look into his eyes. “It was beautiful, Christof. You’re beautiful.”

  We kiss again.

  And again.

  Chapter 13

  him

  She asks me, “You really never did this before?”

  “I’m glad I didn’t.”

  She smiles, “I’m glad I didn’t, too.” She says, “I’m glad there was nothing to spoil that. It was perfect.”

  Her lips are dry. I tell her, “You need water.”

  “I know. I don’t want to move.”

  “I’ll get it.”

  “I don’t want you to move either.”

  “Okay. But you mustn’t go without water too long.”

  “I know. Just a minute.” She buries her face in my chest and I feel so complete it makes me hurt inside.

  “Oh, God, Christof. I feel so good. You make me feel so good, I don’t even care that we’re going to die in the morning.”

  I hold her tight. “Okay, get this straight. We’re not going to die. Nobody’s going to hurt you ever. Not ever. Not tomorrow. Never.”

  We kiss. Deep and long. Soft and warm.

  “Ok,” she says. “Water.” She kisses me again before she sits up to find the bottle.

  As she reaches for the bottle it wobbles. I have a sense of panic that something will fall off our tiny table and trigger the motion sensor. But she catches the bottle in time.

  I say, “Let’s watch the movie.”

  “Okay.” She leans down and kisses me while I feel around for the phone.

  “You thought I was going to knock over the bottle,” she whispers in my ear. “Right?”

  “How do you know?”