by Raven Scott
Yelene slid off the counter to smooth her shirt. “Okay—if you’re fine with it, then I am, too.”
Walking out of the kitchen and to my bedroom, I shut the door behind me to lean against it. Blowing a huge breath, I popped open the box again to gaze shrewdly at the list.
In this thirty by fifteen centimeter box, easily as deep as it is long, was possibly millions of United States dollars in gems. Their weights and prices listed on the top, and there were a few I’d never heard of before. “Not a single diamond, though.” Picking up a raw, black opal, I rolled the stone over in my palm thoughtfully. “Too bad, no one can appraise these for me without bursting the bubble. I’d like a vacation until things calmed down—it’d be nice to force Ophelia to clean up her own damned mess too, even if I can’t witness it.”
22
Yelene
Pulling my knees up to my chin, I gazed through the television mounted on the wall. The days were starting to blur together in blissful monotony, but I felt very uneasy even sitting peacefully on the sofa.
“Yelene? Are you ready to go?”
Lifting my head, I ducked my head in a nod before standing up. Instantly, my stomach cramped.
Igra’s brow furrowed in concern that shimmered in his eyes. “You shouldn’t push yourself, malen’kaya ptitsa. You had a rough morning.”
“I’m just nervous. Things are—nice. I don’t trust it.”
Sympathy drenched his expression.
I gulped down the residual bitterness from just hours ago. “Leaving shouldn’t be so difficult.”
“Being so comfortable shouldn’t be so easy.” Combatting my comment with his own, Igra wrapped his arm around me to squeeze gingerly. “We’re going to take a walk, stop at the store…nothing insidious will be directed at us. Especially so close to Red Square.”
“I’ve never met Anatoly and I don’t want to. I heard what he did to Malda.” Goosebumps swarmed my skin and I crossed my arms under my bust loosely. “Did you know her before, or just after?”
“I’ve met her a few times, very briefly. We bumped into each other in New York City, and she seemed much more herself than when she babysat my little brother. Aleksander set her free, so he could exploit her when he moved a solid operation into America. He should’ve given up after negotiations broke down right out the gate. Whatever he was planning, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Sighing heavily with the weight of what he had to do, Igra palmed my lower back before we headed for the door. “As for Anatoly, he’s an entirely different monster to tackle. He’s an idiot, but when he’s on a mission, it’s hard to stop him. His desire for revenge against even the smallest slight, and his sense of self-preservation, makes it difficult to deal with him. Also, he might not be that smart, but he’s inventive as Hell. It’s supremely annoying, but I suppose that’s what makes him good at his job.”
“Once, in Saint Petersburg,” Yelene said. “I saw him. He struck me as—odd. Maybe, there’s something wrong with his mind.” Pulling my coat tighter, I shook my head of those thoughts as Igra opened the door for me. “At least it’s not snowing again.”
“What would you like to cook today, Yelene?” he punched the elevator button.
Puffing out my lips thoughtfully, my mind turned to food, and genuine interest lilted Igra’s tone. True to his word, he ate anything I put in front of him, and if he liked it, he said so. If whatever I made wasn’t to his taste, he asked me to tweak it— make it spicier, or maybe try something else. He was always polite and encouraging about his advice, and excitement popped in my chest. I wanted to cook for him, for him to enjoy what I made. “I think I’ll make chicken.” All we were doing was going to the grocery store, but I couldn’t shake the roiling in my gut. Staring at my reflection in the elevator doors, I frowned at myself and reached to touch my face. All morning, I was sick.
Igra rubbed my back tenderly. “We should pick you up something for your stomach.” He gestured me in to the elevator as the doors slid open . “Have you ever been to a doctor to help your stress management?”
“No. It’s never been this bad. Aleksander, my parents, and Ophelia—it’ll get better, I think.” There wasn’t much else I could do but to move forward and hope things would get better. Staring down at my feet, I wiggled my toes in my boots as sourness coated my tongue. “I can’t hang up on my parents’ deaths forever, and Ophelia—she doesn’t deserve any more thought from me.”
“You haven’t cried.”
That observation surprised me and my throat tightened as I glanced up at Igra. Memories of the past few weeks raced through my mind.
He gazed at me levelly. “Are you truly as okay with what happened as you think you are, Yelene?”
“I don’t understand why I’m supposed to be sad, considering the fact that—they chose Malda over me, knowing they’d get in trouble. They chose Malda and probably, at the very least, acknowledged the fact that I could be targeted. I could be killed in their place, and they still saved her. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and—to be brutally honest, you were right. I idolized them to the point that I made them into completely different people. Why should I be hung up on ghosts?” Inhaling deeply, I straightened my shoulders and pulled my hair over my shoulder to tuck it into the lapel of my coat. “I know it’s wrong to expect someone to compromise their fundamental ideals, but—”
“The most important fundamental of all is protecting your child, which your parents willfully decided against. I understand. I just worry about you, so if you ever feel overwhelmed by it, you can come to me, malen’kaya ptitsa.”
My cheeks warmed at his assurance.
His palm fell from my back to rub his jaw thoughtfully. “Maybe, we should stop at a few stores just to make sure we don’t forget anything. If you’re up for it, I know there are things I’d never thought I’d need, like towels and odds and ends.”
“Okay. That would be nice, yeah.” Stepping out of the elevator when we reached the ground floor lobby, my gaze instantly locked on the windowed front. There wasn’t much snow anymore and relief slumped my shoulders. “I wish it was spring. I hate the cold.”
“It won’t last too much longer. A month or so, and it won’t snow anymore.”
Was it really February? Where had the months gone? I pushed the thought out of my mind. I’d been at Ophelia’s house for over a year, but I couldn’t pick out any particular instance or event.
Every time I closed my eyes, I could vividly and with crystal clarity, picture every single moment of the past few weeks with Igra. I liked him and the way I felt around him. “I don’t know what to talk about.” There were only so many times we could discuss Ophelia and Igra’s dysfunctional family and my parents…it was already a tired subject.
Igra grunted lowly as he pushed open the door for me. “What do you like to do?”
The cold instantly nipped my nose and ears, and I shivered as it seeped into my jeans. Rubbing my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I pulled my collar up as we walked down the sidewalk. “Before all this, one of my favorite things to do was pottery. It’s really relaxing, and I…” When I looked over, Igra had a huge grin on his face, and amusement danced in his eyes. Even all greenish-blue-yellow, he had a really handsome smile. “What? It’s a really nice hobby.”
“I’m sure it is. I’d love to try it with you. I don’t have any particular hobbies, myself. I worked in an office, went home, slept, and did it all over again. Far too often, I’d have to sit through something with my family. It helped break things up, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” Igra slung his arm over my shoulders leisurely. “Pottery, huh? Like making mugs and bowls and stuff?”
Smiling wide, warmth suffused every cell in my body. “Yeah. I used to be pretty good at it. I’m less good at the decorating part, but…” I trailed off as my words froze on my tongue, and the cold slithered up my nose to dry the roof of my mouth. “I think was good at it, at least.”
“I’m sure you are… malen’kaya ptitsa. And even if yo
u’re not amazing, you enjoy it, and that matters more than talent.”
Igra and I walked leisurely down the street. I gazed up at the crystal clear, blue sky. The cold was bitter, but the sky was beautiful as it flirted with the spires of the Kremlin. His apartment was a few blocks away from Red Square, just as he’d said.
“So, are you still nervous, now that you’re out?” he asked.
Fire crept up my neck, and I shook my head as I took a stabilizing breath.
Igra’s eyes twinkled brightly, and he squeezed my shoulders reassuringly as we walked. “Good. It’ll take a bit to readjust to not being a prisoner, but I’m confident that the new normal will be better than the old.”
23
Yelene
“Come here, malen’kaya ptitsa.”
His mumble in my ear sent shivers down my spine, luscious, deep and silky. Goosebumps blanketed my skin when Igra cupped my breasts, and I gripped the edge of the counter My eyes fluttered closed.
He pressed against my butt and squeezed my breasts with a hungry groan. “I wanna fuck you like this.”
“Oh?” Sucking in a sharp breath, I shuddered as Igra’s calloused palms rolled up my thick shirt. “Oh-h yeah….”
His warm lips pressed kisses on my neck and shoulder, and he ground his bulge against my butt more firmly. “I’ve been with a few women, and none of them moan as pretty as you, Yelene.”
A strange happiness blossomed in my chest, and I flopped my head back as Igra lipped my ear. His sultry hiss shot down my spine as desire lit a fire in my belly, and he kissed my cheek before stepping back to turn me around. Greedy fingers slipped under my jeans to grope my butt.
A gasp lodged in my throat when he hoisted me up onto the counter. “Igra—”
Capturing my lips passionately, Igra pulled up my shirt to pinch and twist my nipples.
Carnal delight shocked my heart and I opened my mouth for his sweet invasion as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Caressing his strong shoulders, my palms tingled wildly, and his tongue danced against mine. The taste of him pooled under my tongue.
He pulled back to take my thick shirt off and drop it carelessly on the floor. Picking me up with warm hands under my thighs, Igra buried his face in my chest to lick and suck. Seamlessly walking to the sofa in the living area, he sat down to grip my hips firmly.
Pleasure rippled up my spine and I arched into his mouth as deft fingers worked the fastenings of my jeans. I stood up to shimmy out of my pants, and Igra grabbed my hand to guide my palm to his bulge. My heart fluttered as I knelt down to undo the button and zipper.
Kicking off his shoes, he slipped out of his jeans hastily.
A faint ringing started up in my ears. His cock sprung from his boxers and my mouth watered as knots tightened my abdomen. Curiosity tingled my tongue, and I pumped the base of his cock loosely while Igra sunk into the sofa and spread his knees around me. I couldn’t tear my eyes off it, the thick veins spiderwebbing just under his silky, warm skin pulsed against my palm. Heat engulfed my face and I licked my dry lips as I leaned in closer.
I’d never been so close to a man’s cock, and my eyes rolled slightly when I took a deep breath of Igra’s musky scent. His gasp rolled down his chest to rustle my eyelashes. Hunger swarmed my taste buds and I exhaled a shallow breath before my lips touched his shaft.
Gingerly, he gathered up my hair away from my face, but he didn’t push my head down. Long fingers tightened in my hair, and I sneaked my tongue out to lick him. The taste of him was exciting my taste buds and my breath caught in surprise. Fog descended on my mind, and I finally managed to tear my eyes from Igra’s cock to look at his face. His gaze sucked me in, and his expression drenched in desire that only made me hotter.
For a moment and a few seconds too long, I tried to figure out this need that tightened my chest and surged through my veins. Blinking dazedly, my gaze shifted to his cock and I moved before my mind caught up with my body. Wrapping my lips around the head of his cock, I moaned at his flavor as the hunger in me sang. He tasted so good, and I tongued the underside of his cock as I inched down.
Oh… The sensations firing off in my chest only intensified when Igra fisted my hair, and I shuddered hard. Shuffling a little to brace my hands on his thighs, I gagged lightly when I tilted my head. The taste of him coated every part of my mouth thickly, and I closed my eyes to savor it.
“Yelene…” Groaning my name hoarsely, Igra sucked in a sharp breath.
I took him deeper. My heart stuttered, my lungs screaming for air as tiny tears pricked my eyes. His head clogged my throat, and I gulped around him to tense when his legs jerked against my sides. Stiffly pulling my head up, I breathed hard and fast as thick ropes of saliva dribbled from my chin.
“I want more.” Mumbling against his cock, I took a deep breath and held it as a ravenous hunger overwhelmed me. I needed it, and Igra gingerly pushed my head down. My lips stretched comfortably and I licked up the thick vein on his underside with the tip of my tongue. Ducking to take him all the way down my throat, my eyes rolled as pleasure skittered down my sternum.
Igra shuddered and groaned as I shook my head just enough to work him down my throat. My chin brushed his sac, and I gulped hard before he tugged my hair insistently. I ignored him, only pulling back enough to feel the ridge of his head brush scrape against my throat.
No air, no thoughts, no sounds beyond the blood drumming in my ears…There was just—peace. Peace and quiet. Igra and I, and nothing and no one else.
“Malen’kaya ptitsa.”
My eyes popped open and I yanked my head back to gasp for air.
Pulling me into his lap, Igra kissed my neck and chest as I wheezed, his tender murmurs rising above the furious drumming in my ears. “You have to remember to breathe.”
“It feels so nice.” Clutching his head, I buried my face in his hair to groan as I lost myself in this feeling of closeness. I didn’t know how else to describe it but being close, and Igra sucked my nipples as he reached between us. Rubbing against him like a bitch in heat, harsh pants ripped from my raw throat, and he pushed my panties side to spread my folds.
My thighs quivered in expectation and euphoria when Igra poised his cock against my entrance. Clenching on nothing, I whimpered pathetically as urgency sent my heart into a wild, unsteady beat. Gripping my hips firmly, he pushed me down, and my knees slid along the fake leather of the sofa.
His girth stretched my walls, and my eyes boggled at the intense rapture that shocked me like lightning. “Yes-s!” Squeaking breathily, I ducked my head and shivered as Igra grabbed my butt to spread my cheeks. “I-Igra….” Clutching him tightly, I clamped down on Igra’s cock when his hips touched mine. My orgasm tore through me, and I ground my teeth. The pleasure was different from our last time, and I couldn’t move under the intense pressure.
He braced his feet on the floor and thrust up with a grunt. “So tight—” Setting hard, jerking thrusts, Igra groaned while I drowned under the rapture. His thighs slapped against mine, jostling my body and pushing shallow gasps from my lungs. Tangling a hand in my hair, he held me down, and cramps tightened my belly as he fucked me.
“Harder—harder! Y-yes-s-s!” Crying out as I came hard, my juices splattered against my skin and soaked his boxers. Igra growled gutturally. His efforts drew out harsh, strained sounds, and his short nails dug into my butt. Bucking sharply, he surged deep inside me, his cock throbbing wildly against my walls. Heat pooled in my abdomen, and I blinked back the fuzziness in my eyes.
Scorching hot breaths rolled down between my breasts, and I shuddered when Igra pulled out of my channel with a hiss. Kissing up to my lips, he cupped the back of my head to hold me close. His heart beat viciously against my chest and I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly.
“You’re getting the hang of it, malen’kaya ptitsa.” Pride shimmered in his voice, and Igra kneaded my scalp tenderly. “I’m glad you and I met the way we did.”
Sinking into his chest, I smiled against
his neck with a satisfied sigh. “You’re a better man than I expected, Igra.” I could feel him smirk at my wobbling confession, and I tightened my arms around him. “I’m gonna go finish putting the groceries away.”
“Stay here for a few minutes.” Igra pulled up his legs to lay down.
I closed my eyes while he ran his hand through my hair. I could get used to this. Easily.
24
Igra
Tapping the back of my cell phone with my fingertips, I frowned at the screen under furrowed brows. My father had called me, not something that happened often. I sat back in my seat with a grunt. “I wonder how that meeting with Carlyle, my father, and Ophelia is going.”
Yelene paused her flittering over the stove to look at me, her big, brown eyes glistening with wonder.
“He called me. I assume it’s because he’s in town and wants to get together? I’m really not interested in ruining today with doing something I know is going to be stressful.”
“You think he’ll just show up here?” she asked.
Immediately, I shook my head, but just then, my phone buzzed insistently against my palm. My father’s contact flashed on the screen and I hesitated before swiping the green button.
Yelene went back to cooking pasta, but she was obviously listening as I lifted my phone to my ear.
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” Leaning back in my chair, I propped my head on my arm and kicked up my leg to rock myself a little. “I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. I was in the shower.”
“I’m glad America hasn’t made you dirty, Igra. I’m actually on my way to see you. Carlyle Santino is with me, too, as is Vanessa.”