Savage Vendetta (Fire & Vice Book 4)

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Savage Vendetta (Fire & Vice Book 4) Page 22

by Nikita Slater


  “What… what are you doing?” she asked shakily, staring up at him.

  “Teaching you some respect, little girl. And a lesson on the dangers of making out with boys in shadows,” he growled, hunching his shoulders to bring himself closer to her height. “Maybe knowing how it feels to kiss a man will make you think twice about encouraging the eager puppy.”

  “No!” she gasped. “Don’t you dare!”

  Mack tried to tell himself he was too old for this, cornering a girl that was fifteen years younger than him and forcing himself on her. He was normally a reasonable guy until someone roused his blood lust. It wasn’t blood he wanted now, but a girl that was proving far more willful and interesting than he had originally thought. In that moment she was irresistible to him. He felt almost savage. He needed her.

  Fuck it, he thought, she’s twenty-one and I haven’t had sex in far too long. Just one touch to tide him over until he could get his hands on a real woman.

  He gripped her by the back of the neck, wrapped his long fingers around her slender throat and forced her head up. He ignored the fear and anger in her eyes and the thrust of her small hands as she shoved at his chest. It was like a fly trying to move a mountain. She wasn’t even close to a match for him, nor did she have any of the defensive training her sister had.

  Mack took her lips in an angry, punishing kiss. He had meant to be more gentle, but the need to erase Matthew from her skin and her mind drove him to ravage her lips in relentless pursuit. He forced his tongue between her shocked lips and explored her mouth with such dominating force that she had no choice but to accept him. Her struggles ceased and she stood stiffly beneath him, her palms open and shaking against his broad chest.

  Tiny whimpers escaped her lips. He wasn’t sure if the sounds were of fear or shock, and being the bastard he was, he didn’t care. The small high-pitched sounds turned him on, spurring him to continue the kiss past the point of mere punishment. He was so hard, his body was demanding he tear open her skirt and fuck her against the wall. He didn’t care that she was a virgin and he would hurt her. He wanted her more in that moment than he had wanted any woman ever.

  He reached down, grabbed a handful of her rounded ass through the layers of her skirt and pulled her hard against his thighs, grinding his cock against her belly. She whimpered and gasped, trying to arch her hips back away from him. It was this small resistance that brought him back to reality. He’d never had a shortage of women willing to share his bed. But something about this one got to him. If he didn’t pull back now he’d be fucking her hard in the dirt.

  He would rape her. He wasn’t under any illusion that she might be willing. She was too innocent to be able to match the level of passion he was experiencing.

  Mack let her go abruptly and stepped back, breathing heavily. Lucy’s knees gave out and she started to crumple to the ground. “Jesus!” Mack snapped, reaching out and hauling her up against the wall ungently.

  Her head snapped up and stark fear began to be replaced with haughty anger. “Don’t you take our Lord’s name in vain. Not after this… this thing you just did to me!” She scrubbed the back of her hand against her swollen lips.

  Mack laughed mockingly. “Not my lord, gorgeous. And we didn’t do anything here, not even close to what I’d like to do.”

  Her face flushed crimson and her hand shakily covered lips ravaged by his forceful kiss. She was about to say something else when they both heard her name being called. Her eyes flared wide. “My mother,” she whispered, her voice holding an edge of panic.

  He nodded shortly. “I can distract your family if you want to go home and…” he eyed her disheveled appearance with some enjoyment, “tidy up. Can you get there okay without a ride?”

  She nodded and thrust a hand against her head, dislodging several hairpins and her bonnet. “Yes, it’s not too far.”

  “Okay, go on girl, before they find us here.”

  She looked up at him with wide luminous eyes. He fisted his hand so he wouldn’t reach for her again. Damn it. This little girl was a complication he didn’t fucking need. His ex-wife had shown him the pitfalls of getting emotionally involved with needy women. Before he could say anything else to her, she turned neatly on her heel and stalked away from him down the dirt path beside the store. Her head was up and her back and shoulders straight. She wasn’t going to let him know he got to her.

  Reluctantly, he smiled, acknowledging how much of her sister was in her, and reached down to pick up the bonnet that had fallen from her hair. The white scrap of fabric with white ribbons looked small in his hand. He crushed it in his fist, shoved it into the pocket of his leather coat and turned to meet her family, his mind firmly on the puzzle of the fleeing girl.

  CHAPTER TWENTYEIGHT

  Jane rolled over in her bed and tried to get comfortable underneath the layers of homemade quilts. Where once she would have hated the thought of everything in the room and house, now she found the familiarity comforting. Even the creak of bedsprings took her back to her childhood spent in that same room. Oddly, visiting her family seemed to ease the worries she had struggled with all of her life. She had resented her family and the lifestyle they led. Now, coming home, she saw everything in a different light. It wasn’t for her, but she didn’t hate everything Amish anymore. Especially now that they seem to be in favour of indoor plumbing.

  She missed Vlad. More than she thought possible. More than she had ever missed anything, ever. This was her third night away from him. And she was done. She wouldn’t spend one more night out of the arms of her husband. Their marriage may have been forced on her, but she found now that she badly wanted it. She couldn’t imagine not having Vlad in her life.

  Determined that she would be reunited with her husband as soon as possible, Jane got up early the next morning and let her family know she would be leaving them. Her mother was stoic as always, though there was an edge of regret in her tone as she said good-bye to her daughter. Joseph gave Jane a quick hug and invited her to return for a visit and to bring her husband next time. Jane had to stifle a snort of laughter while she solemnly agreed. Lucy had walked Jane out to Mack’s truck and cried while the two women hugged.

  “We’ll see each other soon enough, Lucy,” Jane said in her ear, wiping her own tears on her sleeve.

  Lucy sniffled. “I know, it’s just, I’ve loved getting to know you. You’re everything I wanted my sister to be. I wish I could go with you now. I don’t want to wait until after the harvest.”

  Jane pushed her back and looked at her tear soaked face. “The harvest is only a few months away, my dear. You can wait that long. Matthew won’t be in such a hurry to get rid of you.”

  Lucy’s eyes flew over Jane’s shoulder. Jane followed her gaze to find a stiff Mack, standing next to the driver side door pretending not to notice the emotional good-bye. Had something happened between the two? Lucy had been standoffish with Mack from the moment he set foot on the farm, but she hadn’t said a word to him in the past day. With a last lingering hug she let her sister go and climbed into the truck.

  Several hours later, Jane watched the city approach with uncharacteristic nervousness and wondered if she was doing the right thing. She hadn't called Vlad to let him know she was coming home in case he said no and told her to stay put. She didn't want to fight with him when she inevitably ignored his wishes and went back to the city anyway. Boris had frowned at her when she'd gone to the house first, looking for her husband, and informed her that Vlad was at one of his restaurants. She ignored the big, menacing bodyguard's suggestion that she wait at the mansion.

  "I'll go in alone, Mack," she said as they pulled up outside the restaurant. "You go on home and get some rest. I don't know how Vlad'll feel about my leaving the farm early so it's probably best if he doesn't see someone he considers disposable."

  "You'll be alright? Is he gonna be annoyed about this?" he asked, frowning a little.

  Jane hadn't told him there might be an ulterior motive to Vlad's se
nding her away from the city. He was probably just now starting to question her insistence on their not calling ahead to let Vlad know they were coming back. She'd told him she wanted to surprise her husband and while he'd made a muttered comment about the intelligence of 'surprising' mafia guys, he hadn't argued.

  She smiled brightly. "I'll be fine. Vlad's really a softy under those tattoos and scars."

  Mack snorted. "Sure. Remind me to show you a few crime scene photos from the Boss’ good old days."

  Two of Vlad's soldiers were standing outside the building doing a not-so-subtle job of guarding the Boss and his property. One stepped forward when she alighted from Mack's truck, but stepped back when he recognized Sitnikov’s woman. It wasn't his job to question her actions.

  Smart boy, she thought as she waved at Mack and sauntered through the shadowy entranceway of the restaurant. The interior was designed to be sexy-sophisticated with the heavy Russian feel that Vlad liked to surround himself with. Jane found the somewhat gothic nature of Russian trappings suited her too. She liked the drama of it.

  The restaurant wasn't busy yet since it was early evening. She scanned the tables and quickly found her husband. He was deep in conversation with a blond man. The guy was younger than Vlad, tough looking but not in Vlad's league, she decided. The younger man was frowning at something Vlad was saying and Vlad was in the process of slashing one tattooed hand through the air in annoyance when his gaze landed on Jane. He stood abruptly, frowning deeply.

  Waving off something the other man said, Vlad immediately began crossing the restaurant toward her. The few seated patrons were looking up in curiosity as the restaurant owner stalked toward a pale, dark-haired woman. Jane decided if he was going to cause a scene she didn't want it to be there in front of an audience. She turned on her heel and made her way quickly toward Vlad's office, dodging tables and chairs. Glancing over her shoulder she saw his frown deepen and his eyes demand an immediate explanation for her appearance.

  He caught her just as her hand landed on the doorknob of his office. Vlad caught her smaller body up against his and, opening the door, hauled her bodily through the opening. Slamming it shut behind them, in the face of a soldier who had come to see if there was a problem, Vlad shoved her back into the closed door.

  "Vlad, I..." Jane began to explain, but he cut her off with a kiss.

  His lips were fierce on hers, demanding her capitulation at once. He devoured her, stealing her breath and forcing his tongue past her lips. He didn't give her a chance to deny him, forcing her response. Jane was swamped with sensations and instantly gave in to his command. Somehow he managed to convey tenderness, though he wasn't at all gentle with her. She understood, her body demanded the same satisfaction as his. They both clambered for the fulfillment they had been denied for three nights.

  Finally, Vlad terminated the kiss. Still holding her tightly to him, he lifted his head and looked down at her, taking in every feature as though assuring himself that she was really there. It amazed her sometimes that someone as powerful as Vladimir Sitnikov could want her as much as he did. She wasn't incredibly beautiful like Claudia Cantore, or lovely and charming like Addison Sterling. She was dark, difficult, stubborn and super grumpy in the mornings.

  "Vlad," she breathed, blinking up at him and clinging to his tall, solid frame. It felt so good to be in his arms again. "I wanted to come back, I had to see you."

  He nodded, his lip curling slightly at the edge. He caressed her jaw and lips with his crooked ring finger. "You missed me."

  She nodded.

  "The nights were long," he murmured, his accented voice a deep, silky promise.

  Again she nodded. "I hated the nights."

  "It was the same for me."

  It was the closest they had come to an admission of love. Jane was astonished that Vlad hadn't come down on her like a ton of bricks for potentially putting her safety at risk by coming back early without a word. He understood why she was there. He seemed to understand the desperation she had been feeling, because it was mirrored in him. Somehow they worked together. Vlad in his expensive suits, with his iron hold on an empire entirely of his own making. And she with her occasionally successful PI business and her jeans and T-shirts. It was a messy romance, but it was the most exhilarating thing she'd ever experienced. She still hated parts of Vlad's mysterious mobster life, but she was becoming deeply attached to the man himself. His relentless, sometimes painful pursuit of her was proving how deep his feelings for her ran. It wasn't easy for a girl to resist that sort of dark temptation.

  His eyes blazed with triumph. He knew she cared. He'd spent many months pursuing her and now he had her tied to him on more than a physical level. She didn't mind that he was gloating. He looked… happy. His usually icy face was a few degrees warmer as he held her close.

  "You have business?" she asked softly, almost shyly. "I'm sorry I interrupted, I know you don't like it when I cause a scene around your people."

  He shook his head sharply. "This kind of scene will always be permitted. Never fear seeking my attention or affection, my lovely young wife. I will always make time for you. As you will always make time for me."

  Laughter bubbled up in her throat. "Trust you to turn a romantic, almost declaration into a demand."

  "You don't mind," he said huskily, dropping his head into the curve of her shoulder and kissing a path from her ear to her neck.

  She tilted her head to the side to give him better access. "That would be another demand," she pointed out breathlessly. "I may have to take exception to all this bossing around."

  "I prefer to call it a command," he said before recapturing her lips in another kiss. This one was much gentler. Still passionate, but less rushed. When he lifted his head again his eyes were blazing with lust. "Let us go home, malysh."

  "But... don't you have a meeting? I saw that guy out there. He didn't look like he was done talking."

  Vlad pressed himself intimately against her. She could feel exactly how impatient he was to get her home. His cock was hard and demanding against her belly. His lean form towered over her, pressing her fully against the door.

  "I do not care about Petrov. That stupid boy is done talking as far as I'm concerned. I have only one thought now, and that is to eat every inch of my wife before showing her exactly how much I missed her," he growled into her ear before taking hold of her hips and turning her swiftly so she was facing the door.

  He pushed her into the wood and pressed his cock into the curve of her lower back. He lifted her arms and held her wrists over her head in one hand. He wrapped the other hand around her waist and lifted her up until she was on her toes and pressed her back. His cock ground into the crack of her denim clad ass. She gasped, remembering vividly the way he had taken her there on the dining room table. She shivered in apprehension and hunger.

  "Yes, wife," he said against the side of her head, his voice a possessive growl. "I want everything. I will never get enough of you. I would take you right here in my office, but I have no wish to share your screams with anyone else. They will be for my ears alone. You understand me Jane?"

  "Yes, Vlad, I understand," she breathed, arching back and shoving her rounded ass against him. "Take me home."

  CHAPTER TWENTYNINE

  Vlad was leading Jane from the restaurant with a hand under her arm when the blond man he’d been talking to stepped in front of them, blocking their path. They stopped walking. Vlad didn’t give any outward impression of annoyance, but Jane felt the subtle shift in his body as he moved her slightly back, away from the other man whose sharp eyes were taking the pair in.

  “It seems that I must congratulate you on the recent occasion of your marriage, Mrs Sitnikov,” the man drawled, his cold blue eyes sliding from Vlad to Jane. “I was sorry to have missed the invitation.”

  Jane didn’t like his tone of voice. He seemed insolent, something she hadn’t experienced in any of Vlad’s men thus far. “If you know my husband at all,” she replied, her bro
wn eyes just as cold, “then you know he acts quickly when he wants something and doesn’t require the approval of others.”

  The emphasis she put on the word others left no doubt that she meant ‘subordinates’. The man stepped toward Jane, but Vlad stopped him with a snarled, “Touch my wife and die, Petrov.”

  The other man’s head swung toward Vlad, their gazes clashing. “You would dare chastise me, Vladimir,” he spat, his face twisting in an ugly mask. “You have taken this… this outsider into your home, allowed her to get close to the organization and now you will disrespect me in favour of her? She is nothing to me, nothing to the Bratva! You have made a mistake in taking a cop whore into your life. A mistake that the brotherhood will not look upon kindly.”

  Jane held her breath. Once again Vlad didn’t react in any noticeable way, but his body language took on a decidedly deadly edge. She also noticed that several of Vlad’s staff were stepping closer, alert to the confrontation. Jane looked up at her husband. His jaw was tight and his eyes colder than she had ever seen.

  “My patience with you is at an end, Petrov,” he said softly, his voice caressed each word with chilling finality. “You will leave my city before the night is over and not return. You can tell your father that our association is at an end, his blood debt will have to remain unpaid.”

  Petrov took a step back, panic flashing in his face before he controlled himself. He drew himself up stiffly. “You will regret this, Sitnikov. My father won’t take kindly to your defection.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  Vlad held Jane tightly to his side and walked past his furious countryman. One of Sitnikov’s men fell into step on Jane’s other side and another to their back. She shivered at the necessity of such close guard, but continued to cling to her powerful husband as he escorted her from the restaurant and into the back of a waiting vehicle. Vlad sat beside her, staring out the window into the darkness. The passion-charged atmosphere of moments before diffused in the space of a few minutes with a few angrily spoken words.

 

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