“Tell me you’re mine.” I feel him enter my body as he says it. I feel whole when he’s inside me. So damn deep inside me. I’m not sure he’s supposed to be hitting whatever that is, because it’s almost painful. But every time the tip of his dick touches it, I shiver all over. I feel his hip bones pounding against my ass, as if he’s trying desperately to hit the spot.
I can’t imagine allowing anyone else to ever touch me again. “Yes, Misha. I am yours.”
Our eyes are locked in the mirror. He’s roughly exploring my back, and I’m feeling the most exquisite pleasure bordering on pain. Again I get the feeling that he knows everything going on inside me. It’s in his eyes. He looks almost upset at himself that he’s causing me some unpleasantness, but it also seems like he needs to do it. I realize why when another wave of sheer bliss crashes through me.
“You like that, love?” His eyes are wide, his voice is deep, and his muscles ripple as he pounds into me.
I want to say yes, but I can’t even form that simple word. The sounds escaping my throat are raw, and loud. Whatever he’s trying to say is being drowned out by my own moans, my own pleasure. But I see his smile. I might remember that smile for the rest of my life. While I’m having dinner with my husband, Francesco Moretti. While I’m having sex with my husband. While he’s planting his babies inside my womb.
“Come, treasure. That’s right, come for me,” he orders, as he kneels down behind me again. My moans become louder when I feel his tongue on me, licking from my pussy to my ass, and back again. “Come for me, in my mouth, Chi. Come now.”
I do as he orders, as my entire body jerks and writhes against him. I can hear him slurping, and I feel his tongue lapping against my lips. The noises we make together are beautiful, and scary. We’re too loud. I’m sure they can hear us in the next room. The cops will be called.
The highs he takes me to astound me, like I’m flying and soaring. Then I crash down to earth. I cup my head in my hands. Fuck! He just has to look at me. Just gaze at me with those beautiful blue eyes, and I want him. I do. I want him more than I ever thought possible.
But I’m promised to Frankie Moretti. If I don’t marry him, my delicate little sister will be forced to marry Dante. And if Nico Rossi ever found out his daughter had sex with an Ivanovich, he’d lose it. He’d have his boys beat the hell out of me, then he’d marry Guilia off to Dante to spite me.
I don’t have a choice. This can’t work. It won’t work. He gently brushes my hair off my shoulders, and I tip my face toward the movement. Then he kisses my cheek, and whispers in my ear. “You will be mine, Chiara. You will be.”
No, I won’t be. The Bloody Ivanovich might hold the key to my body, but he’ll never own me. He’ll never, ever hold my heart.
Chapter Nine
Misha
“Don’t move,” I tell her. Then I’m on my knees again, cleaning up the mess I made in the floor. I yanked the condom off, then I jerked my cock while her juices flowed into my mouth. She tastes like purity and faith, and I can’t get enough of her. I throw away the tissue I used to wipe up the embarrassing evidence of my fucked up desire. I’d rather taste her than fuck her, with the condom anyway. I can’t wait until she is truly mine, I will fuck her twice a day without anything between us. I want six or seven kids. I want her beautiful body always full with my seed.
My lips are searching out the sensitive spots on her back as I stand up, when I hear her speak. “Misha, I lied when I said I don’t have a boyfriend.”
I don’t want to think about what she’s saying, so I do something else. My hands go out to grab her hips, and I turn her to face me. Then, I pick her up and carry her to the bed. My eyes don’t leave her. Why would I want to look away from the loveliest sight I’ve ever set them on? I lay her onto the bed before I crawl in beside her, facing her. I pull the blankets around us, as I take her hand under them. I’m glad she doesn’t argue with me over tucking her in. She’s probably too exhausted to fight.
“Did you hear what I said?” she asks, when I’m again staring into her eyes.
I nod. I’m trying to hide my reaction from her. “That doesn’t matter now that we’re together. You can break up with him and be with me.”
She chuckles nervously. “That’s not possible. I’m engaged to Frankie Moretti. I belong to him.” She says his name as if it should matter to me. It doesn’t.
“I’m not afraid of Frankie,” I state. “Frankie Moretti is a fucking pussy. I could take him out easy, baby. Don’t worry about him.”
She rolls over and closes her eyes, and I feel like she’s been stolen from me. Even though I still have her hand, I want her back. “My father wants me to marry him.”
I’m not afraid of Nico Rossi either, but I’m not going to talk shit about him to his daughter. “Your father will get over it.”
“No, Misha. I can’t defy him. I have to marry Frankie.” I can hear it in her voice, which is almost hollow. She sounds resigned to her fate, not excited to get married.
“Do you love him? Do you love Frankie?” God knows I don’t want her to say yes, but I have to know her answer.
What she says hurts me more than if she’d just said yes. “I’ll never fall for a mobster.” Then she’s silent.
She doesn’t realize that she killed my hopes and dreams with those words. She’s letting me know I don’t stand a chance with her. She’s telling me I’ll never mean anything to her but a great fuck. I knew I shouldn’t have interacted with her. I knew it was a bad idea to talk to her. I knew that she would hate Mikhail Ivanovich. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted her. I want her, even if I’m just the man whom she calls when she needs to get laid. I’ll answer her calls every time.
But I will never be able to tell her how I feel. I won’t be able to share my dream of running away with her. I wouldn’t even care where we’d end up, as long as I could take her to bed every night, just like this. I’ve wanted to sleep beside her for months, and now I’m here, and I’ll be damned if it’s the last time.
Her breathing has changed, it’s slowed and deepened. Her perfect pink tongue is stuck out between her teeth. She looks so much younger, and even softer somehow.
I scoot closer to her. Her shoulders move slightly toward me. I kiss the one closest to me as I wrap my arm around her waist. Touching her soft skin is killing me slowly. She smells like sex and sweat. Her hair is a dark, damp, tangled mess around her neck. My dick is hard as hell and rubbing against her hip. I’ve got off twice, and I haven’t got enough of her. Just being next to her stirs up feelings inside me. I know she’s trying to sleep, but I need her.
I roll up onto my knees so I’m looking down into her beautiful face, then I kiss her gently. My hand moves over her taut stomach, up her ribs, to her breast. Her eyes flutter open, and I’m watching them carefully. I want to see how she reacts to me, waking her up this way.
She searches my face momentarily, then she gives me her lovely smile. “Misha, I’m sleeping,” she grumbles. Then her hands reach out for me, wrap around my neck, and pull me down to her.
“Let me love you, Chi,” I whisper against her lips. She moans, and her fingernails rub over my neck and up into my hair. “Let me make love to you.”
“Ummhmmmm…” she purrs. My lips lightly brush hers, but it’s not enough for her. Her tongue reaches out, and my lips part and suck it in. She groans for me, and parts her perfect thighs, inviting me into her temple.
“Let me get a condom, treasure.” I sigh when I pull away from her kiss. It’s the last thing I want to do, but I know it’s the right thing to do.
“Lick me, Misha,” she murmurs, and pushes down on my shoulders. When I scoff, and resist, she pouts her bottom lip out and begs, “Please lick me.”
How can I resist her? How will I ever be able to tell her no? I tip her chin back, exposing her feminine neck for my lips. I want to mark her, so there’s no denying what we did. Now is not the time, though. I kiss her, and extend my tongue to leave
a trail down between her bronze globes.
She thrusts her chest up, demanding my attention. I can’t believe I haven’t done this yet. I lick a circle around one of her glorious breasts, and the noises she makes sets my soul on fire.
“Yes, Misha, there,” she mumbles, and tries to move my head to take her nipple. But I’m going slow, cherishing her, showing her how it feels when a man makes love to a woman. That’s what I’m doing, I realize. I’m showing her my feelings with my body. I’m telling her I love her without words. “Please, Misha.” She pushes her breasts up to me. I’m enjoying teasing her, just to hear her beg me. “Pleeeeease, Mikhail. Please.” I look up at her through my eyelashes, and I see the need, the desire in her eyes. “Please,” she begs, while gazing down at me.
She might tell me when I’m finished that she won’t ever love me. But she can’t deny that she wants me enough to beg me. As she watches, I suck her hard nipple into my mouth. She grunts loudly. Then she becomes vocal again. “Yes, yes, Misha.”
I’m so hard it aches from my balls up my spine. I’m so wet I feel it against my stomach. But I want to give her what she wants, especially when she says please so sweetly.
I move down her body, because I have to taste her sweetness when she orgasms, and I’m ready for it now. When I reach her stomach, she inhales loudly. “Now!” Her eyes are sizzling, and her tongue is licking her top lip.
My fantasy is very demanding. I smile up at her as I dip my head between her legs. The noises she makes, the way her hips push up against me, are what I strive for. The taste of her juices on my tongue is my reward. She’s so wet, I slurp her nectar right before I thrust my tongue inside. I will replay the sound of, “Yes, Misha, please,” along with her moans, in my head for the rest of my life.
I place one finger at her asshole and press inside, against the muscles that tighten up to try to keep me out. Her fingers grab my hair and pull me in deeper. I just want to be inside her, and the way she’s wiggling her hips lets me know she likes it.
When she demands, “Let me touch you, Misha,” I don’t know how to react. I don’t know how she can, while I’m enjoying her delicious pussy. It’s all about her, my needs are practically meaningless. “Please let me touch you.”
She pulls at my arms, trying to bring me up her body. “I thought you wanted me to eat you out,” I remind her. My entire body quakes when my dick brushes against the wetness between her legs. It’s too much to bear, and yet not nearly enough to satisfy me. “What do you want, treasure?”
After several moments of staring into my eyes as if I should be able to read her mind, she says, “Let me suck you while you do that.”
“What? No!” I reply immediately. There is absolutely no way my foul body will be anywhere near her pristine little mouth.
“Why not?” She bites her bottom lip, then her hands move down my chest. “Please?”
“No, Chi.” I always wear a condom when having sex, except when I took her virginity. I don’t always wear a condom when I’m getting head. Natalya forces me to get checked for STDs every few months, because she worries. I don’t have any diseases, but that doesn’t make me clean. That is the only thing I will tell her no to.
I groan loudly when her hands find my cock. Her pretty eyes stare up at me with so much desire I nearly give in. “Why not, Misha? I’ve never done it, and I want to do everything with you.” I close my eyes, and let her explore. When she murmurs, “Please, Misha,” again, I shake my head firmly.
“You’ll have something to look forward to next time, love.” It’s all I can say. I probably won’t ever let her do it, but I can lie and tell her I will.
She’s confused. I can see it in her eyes. “Okay,” she finally replies, with a slight grin. “Next time. Will you fuck me now?”
I sigh. I don’t want her to think of it that way. She makes it sound so dirty. But I won’t let her see I’m disappointed. “Yes, Chi. Now.” I move to climb out of the bed. She releases my cock, almost reluctantly. “I’ll be right back.” My condoms are in my jeans pockets. What would happen if I didn’t use it? She might get pregnant. Then she would come to me, and tell me. Wouldn’t she? She’d break it off with Frankie. She wouldn’t let him think that my baby was his, would she?
I place a condom on my cock as I think about Frankie Moretti raising my baby. I could never, ever let that happen. But what if I didn’t know?
When I return to the bed she’s watching me. She smiles, and reaches her hands out to me. “Yes, Misha,” she says, and parts her legs for me. I slide into her, while gazing into her eyes. She would tell me if I got her pregnant, wouldn’t she? The thought is going to haunt me now.
I can’t let her marry someone else. I won’t. I’ll find a way to have her, even if I have to kill her fiancé, her father, and every other man in her family. I will have her.
“Yes, Misha,” she murmurs, as I move into her. “You’re so good.” She wraps her calves around my waist, and I grab the backs of her thighs.
She doesn’t really think that about me. She would never be with me, even if she wasn’t engaged to someone else.
“Misha, you make me feel good. You make me feel everything.” She would say that, because she’s never been with anyone else. “Yes! Yes!”
She’s going to come, and I’m staring into her eyes, obsessing over what she’ll do when she leaves this room. My heart can’t handle her. I knew I was in trouble when she walked up to me.
“Yes, Misha! Oh, God yes!” she moans, as I feel her tightness contract around me.
I thrust into her harder, deeper, rougher than before. Her eyes grow wide, and she cries out. “You’re mine, Chiara,” I insist harshly. I know she thinks it’s just fuck talk, but I will own her. She doesn’t know how far I will go for what I want, but I will show her.
“Yours!” she screams.
“Come for me. Come!” I yell, as I feel my orgasm take me.
I breathe deeply, and watch the pleasure wash over her face. She’s so beautiful, it makes my heart ache. She smiles at me as she closes her eyes. I’ve gone too far for her first time. She’s tired, I’m sure. She’ll likely be sore tomorrow.
I roll off her, and pull her on top of me. I want to feel her against me as she sleeps. I rub her back, and try to formulate a plan. The first person I need to speak to is Natalya. She’s the one I can trust with my secrets. And she can’t beat the shit out of me for doing something stupid, like falling for our enemy’s fiancée.
Chapter Ten
Chiara
I wake up to the most satisfying feeling, like my whole life has changed and I don’t know if it’s for better or worse. I know what it means to be a woman now, but I learned from the most feared member of the Bratva, a brutal cold-hearted killer.
I stretch out my entire body, down to my toes. I smile brightly as my eyes open, and I see I’m in a hotel room. Remembering why I’m here and who is here with me makes my smile even brighter. I can’t believe I’m not a virgin any longer. And I lost it to Mikhail Ivanovich. Misha.
“Ummmm, Misha,” I mumble, as I roll over. I reach my hand out, to find him on the other side of the bed. Instead I find it empty. “Misha?” I call out, as I sit up and look around. The bathroom door is open, and he’s not in there. Although I’m naked, I climb out of the bed and hurry into the other room, which I ignored last night. It’s cute, but boring, decorated in shades of beige.
But most importantly, it’s as empty as my bed was. His clothes are gone, and so is he. Everything of mine is still here. My purse and my dress lay next to the front door. Nearby are my torn panties. I’m not crazy, I really did sleep with an Ivanovich last night. Didn’t I?
And I want to do it again. I must have lost my mind last night, because I want him to be mine. I grab my things off the floor and head toward the bathroom, and all of it reminds me of him. I throw my things onto the bed where we slept. I grab the shampoo and soap off the counter where we had sex. I turn toward the bathtub where he told me his name. They all
hold memories from last night.
I turn on the water in the shower, and I think about my choices as I let it cascade over me. I can’t run. I can’t hide. My father has the perfect leverage. He knows how much I love Guilia, and he knows how far I will go to protect her. Is running off with an Ivanovich really worth sacrificing Guilia’s happiness, or losing my family? Maybe I can carry on an illicit affair after I get married. I mean, they are forcing it on me, why should they expect me to be faithful?
No, I’m not that type of person. I would feel so guilty about it I’d probably end up confessing to Father Patrick. I should be headed to the church right now to confess. But I’m not sure I could trust him to keep my secret. I need to talk to someone I can trust. I definitely could not tell Angelina. She’s so crazy about the Moretti family she’d probably run and tell Frankie immediately. And Guilia can’t keep a secret. And my school friends have no clue what my father does, or even that I’m engaged. I can’t call and unburden myself onto Bea or Paula.
As I step out of the shower, I realize there is only one person I can talk to. I dry off before wrapping the towel around myself, roll my dark hair into a bun, then open my purse to search for a hair band. That’s when I notice the zippered inner pocket is open. I look inside it, dread filling me. It’s empty. I release my hair, and it falls damp and heavy on my shoulders. I search through my wallet, and all my cash and credit cards are there. The cash Mikhail handed me last night is wadded up and still in there. My ring, though, is gone. Did he seduce me to steal my ring?
Frankie will kill me. How in the hell am I going to explain this to him? It’s my engagement ring. I’m not supposed to take it off, like ever. There is absolutely no way that he will ever forgive me. And he had the ring designed especially for me. I can’t just go out and buy another, even if I could afford it.
The ladies at the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church will host the Stations of the Cross tonight, and Frankie will be there with me. I can’t show up there without the ring, and I can’t just not show up.
War (Bratva and Mafia Chronicles Book 1) Page 6