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Dmitry's Royal Flush: Rise of the Queen

Page 9

by Nelson, Latrivia S.


  "Maybe you're not a whore, but you're definitely not a woman I can trust," he whispered.

  "You can trust me more than you can trust her," Victoria said, aching to have him.

  Dmitry's voice was low. "Let me look at you."

  He ran his fingers down her body, along her solid frame.

  "I want you," she said, feeling his hands on her body. "Take me."

  "In my life, you can only be one of two things to me in the capacity that you are asking… my wife," he unzipped her skirt and pulled it off of her. "Or my whore." The skirt hit the floor, revealing black lace panties that showed her flawless frame. "Which is it, Victoria?" his mouth watered.

  "Your wife," she whispered.

  Dmitry smiled. "So that's it. You did this to replace her?"

  "Yes," she said, unable to take his fondling.

  "Well, to be my wife, you have to go through something of an initiation."

  "Whatever, it takes," she closed her eyes and rested her head back on his abdomen. Her high was at its peak.

  Dmitry's face was like stone as he looked at their reflection in the mirror. He reached behind him under his shirt and pulled a blade out. Holding it to her neck, he gripped her body. "First, I'll have to cut small slits into your body."

  Her eyes opened. Startled, she winced and tried to get away. He put his hand over her mouth and bent to her ear. "Then, I'll have to strangle you until you know better than to scream."

  Tears ran down her face.

  "Then, I'll have to bend you over after I fuck you mercilessly and sodomize you until you bleed." His face was now dark. "But that's not it." He pulled her closer to the mirror. "Then, I have to cut your fucking throat. And then," he pulled her as she fought, "if you live, then after you've been mutilated and destroyed, then I can marry you." He licked the side of her face, just as he had heard Ivan had done to his wife.

  She tried to scream, but she couldn't breathe. As she stared into the mirror, helpless to the mad man's strong hold, she saw tears in Dmitry's eyes. Anger and hatred painted over his face. She was suddenly paralyzed by fear.

  "And you wonder why she's a bitch?" Dmitry smirked. "She used to be sweet, innocent, happy but not anymore… and it's all because of me. Does that turn you on? Huh? You like that? I'm sure that I could turn you into a she'll of a woman, too. I could destroy every inch of you, too. And it wouldn't take me nearly as long as it did with her, you black-hearted bitch."

  For a moment, Dmitry lost control. He had never had a desire to hurt any woman, but for what she was hiding, he wanted to hurt her now. Still there was that animalistic desire to have her beautiful body. The combination was lethal and caused the blood to course through his veins at a powerful speed. He felt as though he would have a heart attack, but still he did not stop his antics.

  Desperately, she fought to get away, but he only gripped her down harder.

  "Let go of me!" she screamed out. "You crazy bastard!"

  "What? You don't want me now?" he taunted, disgusted by both Victoria and himself. "I thought that you wanted to get married."

  "Help!" she screamed. "Someone help me!"

  "Who's going to help you? You belong to me now."

  "Let her go, Dmitry," Royal commanded from the shadows. Her voice was calm.

  Dmitry looked up in the mirror with a wild devious look on his angelic face to see his wife.

  Chapter 10

  Royal could feel the heat seeping through her skin. Hearing the woman beg for her husband was a sobering reality check, but seeing her husband brutalize another woman was a repulsive reminder.

  Earlier she had leaned against the door, hidden in the shadows, praying that the words that came from Dmitry would be true. Alas, they were. And while she was pained at his apparent attraction to Victoria, none could deny his disdain for her treachery.

  Dmitry looked over at his wife instantly ashamed of his actions. He threw Victoria on the floor and slipped his knife back into the leather holder under his shirt.

  How long had she been there in the dark? Did she see him kiss her? Did she see his steely erection? Could she hear in his voice his mild satisfaction with himself? He clenched his wide jaw and stilled himself where he stood, locking his body to ensure that he did not move from his place.

  "Mrs. Medlov," Victoria said, standing up with her clothes pooled down around her ankles. "Thank you so much."

  "Thank you?" Royal smirked.

  She walked out of the shadows in a slow, catlike sway. Her long dark hair busied itself around her body in an untamed, curly frame. Even in the same ruined clothes, she still mirrored absolute perfection.

  Dmitry was only enraged more by the torn, tattered look of his wife. The click of her shoes stabbed the silence of the room and echoed about. The embers and light of the fireplace illuminated her dark features. He could not take his eyes off of her. It was if her presence diminished anyone else in the room, even himself.

  "Victoria, I'm not the smartest woman in the world," Royal said softly. "But I'm willing to bet that you had something to do with my little breakdown earlier." Slowly, Royal walked over to the fireplace and pulled from the rack a black steel fire poker.

  Victoria watched her mistress carefully. Breathing hard, she slipped on her dress as quickly as she could and looked back at Dmitry. His eyes were planted on Royal. It was as if his wife had cast a spell on him.

  "I'm afraid that I don't know what you are talking about Mrs. Medlov," Victoria denied as she looked to Royal.

  "What did you slip me?"

  "Nothing."

  "You know. I'm getting really tired of being the victim, Victoria. For too long, I've been the injured party. I won't let it happen again, not even one more time." Royal turned and walked towards her. "It will work out better for you if you just tell me the truth."

  "Nothing," Victoria said adamantly. She looked her mistress in the eyes as they stood face-to-face. "I'm not responsible for what happened upstairs."

  "What if I had died?" Royal continued in a calm voice as if the woman had not denied her treachery. "What if my heart had exploded?" They stood in the darkness only inches from each other. Royal gripped the fire poker in one hand as she stood erect.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Victoria said curtly. "You must be mistaken."

  Royal made a step closer. The heat from the poker was only inches from both of them. "Sure you don't want to recount your recollection. My husband was already on the way to doing you bodily harm. I wouldn't want to finish the job for him."

  "Oh, I'll finish it myself, love," Dmitry snarled.

  Suddenly, she realized that if she were not completely honest she might never leave this room alive.

  "Please don't," Victoria said quickly.

  Royal's hand began to shake. "Then you tell me the truth, you lousy bitch! Did you slip me something in my drink?"

  "Yes," Victoria said shaking. "Cocaine and Oxycotin. But I no idea you would end up the way that you did. I took some myself. It was just supposed to get you out of the way, not harm you."

  Royal read her eyes. She knew that Victoria was telling the truth.

  "I let you into my home, around my daughter and family. I let you drive our cars, dine at my table, and you repay me by trying to sleep my husband, take my family and kill me?"

  Victoria could no longer look her in the eyes. "Forgive me, Mistress," she begged.

  Royal's hand shook as she gripped the fire poker. Many thoughts crossed her mind. Thoughts of mutilation and retribution. But she knew that it was wrong. Finally, she opened her fingers and let the poker hit the ground.

  "If there were not just one ounce of God of me, you'd be dead. I'd kill you myself." Tears ran down her face. "But there is… so… get out," Royal said barely above a whisper. "And don't ever let me lay eyes on you again, or so help me, I'll finish you." She looked over at Dmitry who stood in shock. "Davyd!" she screamed.

  "Yes, Mistress," he said, opening the door quickly.

  "Pack her i
n less than ten minutes and get her off my property. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Mistress," he said sternly as he watched the woman walk past him. He eyed Dmitry for more direction, but his boss's eyes were on his wife.

  As the door closed, Dmitry breathed out slowly. The truth of Victoria's words were sobering and paralyzing in the same breath. The combination of drugs could have been fatal.

  It took everything in him not to grab her by her small head and crack her spine, but his wife in his complete opposite had been so amazingly gracious until he felt ashamed.

  Royal looked at him with a look of complete condescension. It was apparent to him without her saying one word that she had witnessed far more than he would have ever wanted her to see. Plus, he feared that the woman's lipstick and scent were upon him now. He could barely look at her, yet he could not keep his eyes from her.

  Turning, she walked out of the room quietly down the hall. Dmitry followed behind her, unsure of where she was going. She went down the dark entryway towards the main hall, never looking back. When she got to the large double doors that led outside, she opened them and turned to Dmitry with tears in her eyes.

  "All I want is a break through," she said sighing. "Is that so much to ask?"

  "No," Dmitry said, uncomfortable for some reason.

  "I don't suppose that you understand what the hell I'm talking about, do you?" She searched his face.

  Dmitry was silent.

  "I want to be free from it, Dmitry," she answered finally.

  Rain blew in with the winds from the open door and wet the marble flooring and her body.

  "Just tell me what you want me to do," Dmitry said in a soft voice.

  He watched the rain drench the rugs and soak the floor. Normally that would have been enough to send her into a tirade, but she ignored it now.

  "I want you to want me the way that you wanted that woman just a minute ago—so badly until it hurts," Royal confessed. "With passion," she smiled. Tears still fell.

  "Royal, I do. I want you more."

  Walking out into the rain, Royal headed down the steps of her home, unsure of where she was going. The water drenched her body, made her clothes stick. She walked off the concrete pathway to the lake about two hundred meters from the house.

  Dmitry followed her; still unsure of what she was going to do.

  The wind beat against her skin and stung her face as its wet beads slapped against it. Still, she kept walking, crying and talking to herself. In the grass, her long stilettos stabbed the dirt and mud.

  She fought through the mush and continued. When she got to the lake, she leaned against a tall oak tree and sighed as she looked over the water. Running her hand over the cool wood, she saw her wedding ring sparkling in the night.

  Turning to see Dmitry standing behind her, she looked up at him with need.

  "No matter what she says, she can't love you the way that I can," Royal assured.

  "I would never let her."

  "I'm not a shell of woman, Dmitry. I'm just trying to figure this all out."

  "Lets figure it out together, please."

  "Can we? Do you we really have what it takes to stay together?"

  "I know that I don't have what it takes to stay apart from you and my family."

  He pushed her long locks from her face, wiped the rain water from her lips and bent down to her kiss her. She grabbed his hot face and held it in her hands, rubbing through his stubby beard and caressing his skin. His eyes burned through her. They were filled with need and desperation. Slowly with growing passion, she began to kiss him deeper and deeper. As she did so, he dropped to his knees and pulled her close to him. His knees sank in the mud.

  "She was right about one thing… "

  "Shh… " Dmitry said, covering her lips. "Don't say a word."

  Dmitry pulled at the strap of her slip with his cold, long fingers. It fell to her waist, revealing her full round breasts, erect and wet from the rain. He looked up at her and then kissed her burning nipples. He suckled her like a baby, wrapping his arms around her to draw her near in his embrace. Shuttering, she sucked in her breath in awe of what he promised.

  She felt his large hands at her waist as he pulled down her slip, then her stockings, then at last her panties. Before she knew it, she was naked, standing before him both ashamed and aroused. She tried to cover her womanhood, but he her held her arms—needing to see all of her, scars and all.

  Quickly, he took off his own clothes and laid them in the mud by the lake. She looked down at the ground amused. Was he serious? He laid her down carefully on his make shift bed and for the first time in her life, she felt cold mud and grass against her skin.

  She expected to be turned off, to squeal and run, but the raw look of passion in Dmitry's eyes made her forget everything.

  He bent down and kissed her as the rain beat against his body. Incredibly, he shielded her from most of its fury. She grabbed his neck as he ducked to her. He kissed her again. The passion so invigorating it sent deep chills down her spine.

  Opening her legs, she felt his erect cock, warm and strong prodding between her steaming thighs. She bit her lip, arched her back and then slowly allowed him to enter her. The warm stiffness of his phallic pleasure electrified her.

  To say it had been a while would have been an understatement. The bizarre and dynamic emotion that overwhelmed her brought tears to her eyes as he penetrated her.

  It had been so long. It had been so needed. She closed her eyes and formed her lips into a pouty moue of ecstasy. She laid her head back in the dirt, forgetting her surroundings as he planted his knees in the earth and pushed into her body.

  Her hands found their way to his waist as she tried to keep her sanity. His strokes were long, powerful and warm. It was such a dramatic contrast from their cold, wet surroundings. Reaching out for her, he grabbed the orb of her brown breasts with one hand and reached to hold on to her backside with the other. She felt her body lift off the ground, break apart in his hands. Letting out a moan, she began to shake, but he continued to stroke her, to fill her with every inch of himself.

  She ran her hands over his now nearly shaven head and kissed him again, this time biting his bottom lip.

  He rolled over and landed in the dirt with her on top now covered in black earth from her hair to her feet. She bent down and winced as she felt his entire throbbing penis inside of her. She tried to pull back to ease the pain, but he raised his aching thighs and pushed as far as he could.

  Her mouth parted in rapture. Dmitry gave a slow, wicked grin. Kissing her breasts, he moved below her slowly, breaking all the barriers that had been placed between them. Her cheeks reddened with fire. She began to shiver out of control. Leaning over, she grabbed the grass and pulled it as he made love to her.

  It pleased him immensely to watch her finally come alive. Her mouth opened in awe in pleasure and pain. She moaned aloud, moving faster against him, slicking their bodies with her wetness. His strokes were wet and long, deep and hard. It was a passion that could not be given by money, by the love a child, by power. It was something that could only be shared by lovers. Suddenly, she felt the apex of her pleasure approaching. Her body began to throb and ache. She looked down at him in wonderment as her body began to vibrate on its own. It shook uncontrollably.

  Ferociously, his pleasure caused her back to spasm, her hands to clinch, her eyes to roll. She called out his name as she did. How could a man make a woman feel this beautiful? As she orgasmed for the first time in nearly a year, the rain stopped. Only the cool wind beat against them.

  "I love you," she said with tears in her eyes.

  "I love you, too," he said, biting his lip. "But I can't hold it any longer?" His breathing became sporadic. His skin was beat red.

  "It's not safe. I'm not on the pill." She tried to pull away.

  There was a strange look in his eyes. "So, if I didn't pull out, we could get pregnant?"

  "Yes. Sheesh. We sound like teenagers," she laughed.<
br />
  Dmitry didn't laugh. "Let me."

  Royal looked at him thoughtfully.

  A shock went through him as his body pleaded to release inside of her.

  "Who cares that you're not on pill; let me. Like before Anya, before Ivan." He pushed inside of her again. "Let me remember what it feels like to have my wife."

  Tears ran down her face. She shook her head.

  "How in the hell do you do that, Dmitry?"

  "Do what?"

  "Change my entire life in seconds," she whispered. "A few minutes ago I wanted to die."

  "And now?"

  "And now, I have never felt so alive."

  Dmitry pulled her lips to his and kissed her as his skin began to burn and clamor. He pushed slowly into her body, more erect that ever. His muscles tightened as he felt the silk from her body on his own.

  The mere knowledge of the intimate transaction that was about to take place aroused him more. He rested his nearly clean-shaven head back and felt the cool ground against it.

  Royal looked down at his muscular body tensed up and bulging below her. His eyes sparkled in the darkness, guiding her thoughts in the black of the night.

  Suddenly, she felt a powerful pulse inside of her. It had been so long since she allowed him to do so, so long since he had asked. But the feeling was joyous. It was a remarkable sensation that only a woman could have, a pleasure that only a wife could imagine. The possibility of life. The certainty of love.

  Chapter 11

  The cold fierce winds finally brought the reunited couple back to reality and sent them running from the lake back to the front doors of their home, where they had started their journey a full hour before.

  Dmitry opened the unlocked door slowly with Royal on his back laughing and naked, covered from head to toe in dirt. They entered the house talking loudly and giggling like school kids.

  The doctor that Dmitry had sent for earlier stood with his assistant and Davyd in the foyer looking on mortified at the sight of the exposed couple.

 

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