Wreckless Intentions

by K. Marie

  I jumped when Garland unexpectedly brought a piece of fabric over my eyes, giving me a start. “Relax, moya lyubov', I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he reassured.

  I quickly changed my mind…I think I might like this turn of events.

  “Do you trust me?” Garland asked, securing the fabric at the back of my head.

  “Of course,” I answered without hesitation.

  “Good. Turn around,” he instructed.

  I did as asked; pivoting until I was facing him. It felt weird being wholly vulnerable and blind—seeing nothing but darkness. But, though I was wary, I was also intrigued as hell.

  “Fucking perfect…,” I heard him utter, a sudden coolness on my skin telling me that he’d just stepped away.

  “Where are you going?” I asked curiously, straining my ears to hear what direction he’d gone. But, he was too stealthy, because I got absolutely nothing.

  “I was debating whether leather or silk would be better,” Garland said from behind me a mere ten seconds later. “I decided on silk.”

  Before I could ask the obvious, he pulled one of my hands behind my back, and then the other. I immediately felt something soft being wrapped around my wrists.

  Holy shit.

  “This is venturing into kinkyville…” I breathed wondrously, a little shocked—but in a wholly good way. Garland could get freaky, but he’s never gotten into bondage before. This was something new.

  “Silence! From this point on, I want to hear nothing but moaning, screaming, and the occasional yes coming from that mouth. Understood?” he growled, tugging on my hair until my head was tilted back as far as it would go.

  “Yes,” I whispered in compliance, wondering what kind of beast had possessed my husband. Whatever it was, I liked it.

  “Good girl,” Garland murmured, before kissing my upturned mouth. “Now, come,” he commanded, grasping my upper arm and leading me across the room. We stopped at what I assumed to be the bed because I could feel the covers brushing against my legs.

  “I like having you at my mercy, Camry, it looks good on you,” my husband said, raspy voice feeling like a caress across my skin. “If the binds bother you, tell me. Otherwise, say or do nothing, just feel,” he ordered, kissing my neck.

  I nodded my head, following his orders like a good little wife.

  “Sit,” Garland directed, guiding me with a gentle grasp to my arm. “Don’t move.”

  I sat listening as he walked away, a sound to my left a few seconds later pinning his location. There was a scraping noise, and then a hollow popping sound that had me flinching. But I’d know that instantly identifiable sound anywhere. The cork popping from the bottle of champagne. My pulse quickened with interest, wondering what Garland was up to.

  He returned a moment later. “I thought we could enjoy the champagne now,” he said, the sound of the bottle clunking down on the bedside table. There was a telling splash a moment later as the liquid flowed into a glass, and then the return of his body heat as he stood before me.

  “Open,” Garland instructed, bringing the glass to my lips.

  Crisp bubbles danced across my tongue as the cold liquid filled my mouth. After swallowing, a passionate moan followed. There was nothing like the taste of an excellent vintage of bubbly. I hadn’t had the pleasure of its indulgence in almost a year.

  “I thought you’d like that,” Garland said with a smile in his voice before putting the glass to my mouth once more. Again, I moaned my appreciation after swallowing its greatness. “Now it’s my turn to make you moan,” he declared.

  A breath hitched in my throat when I felt him move between my legs, then use his own to push them further apart before lowering himself to his knees. With the ability to see or touch taken away from me, I felt inexplicably exposed and vulnerable. Which oddly, was a turn-on in itself.

  I felt something cool drip onto my skin, and then Garland’s finger as he traced a gentle path between my breasts and all the way down to my pussy. I squirmed and moaned, feeling a wetness trickle down my stomach and in between my thighs. Champagne. He’d just dripped champagne onto my body.

  I cried out when he flicked a finger across my clit, then slid it through the slippery folds, spreading the bubbly liquid. Already on the verge of losing my shit, when Garland’s champagne-soaked fingers moved to my nipples—circling the cool liquid around the already hard buds, my entire body trembled and quaked. And then his hot mouth quickly followed.

  I sobbed as he sucked one tight, aching nipple into his mouth, and then the other, before catching the rest of the dripping champagne with his tongue as he traced a blazing path down my body. I lost my shit completely.

  “Did I mention how much I love your pussy?” Garland asked, voice raspy.

  A gasp escaped my mouth as the liquid hit my clit, then drizzled down further. “I think I’ll have dessert before dinner,” he announced decisively, before pushing me backward onto the bed and pulling my legs over his shoulders.

  I screamed God’s name in vain when his tongue caressed my flesh like he was enjoying a fucking ice cream cone, he then sucked my clit into his mouth like it was the best thing he’s ever tasted.

  Garland groaned his approval, thoroughly relishing his champagne flavored dessert.

  I cried helplessly, writhing and moaning and digging my nails into my palms. With my hands bound behind my back, I was completely immobile and at Garland’s mercy. It was amazing how the loss of just two senses could make the others more heightened. My sense of feel was screaming off the charts, the pressure building up inside of me was almost unbearable. I rocked my hips forward, begging for more, pleading for relief as I quickly rushed towards my goal. Everything inside of my body seemed to tingle and pulse, raging in desperation. Until I was screaming, in orgasm, for what felt like forever.

  “That’s it, moya lyubov'…scream my fucking name…” Garland encouraged, making me realize I was doing just that.

  My mistake, I should have been screaming out, Your Majesty.

  As I lay fighting for breath—thoroughly winded and subdued after my orgasmic euphoria, Garland kissed my inner thighs, murmuring something I couldn’t understand. Probably some freaky shit in Russian.

  He kissed his way back up my quivering body, leaving a moist, hot trail before reaching my breast. I arched my back and whimpered as he lavished them with attention, body screaming from sensory overload.

  “When are you going to fuck me?!” I blurted in desperation, throwing my vow of obedience and silence out the window.

  That was apparently the wrong thing to do.

  Garland didn’t say a word as he abandoned the attention he was giving my nipples and lifted himself from my body. I sensed him standing over me before he suddenly clasped both my ankles and crossed them—flipping me over onto my stomach in one fluent movement. A surprised breath whooshed from my mouth; and then a yelp, when his palm made contact with first one ass cheek, and then the other.

  “Dammit Garland!!” I cried, full of indignation.

  “I don’t abide disobedience,” he said unremorsefully.

  Jackass.

  “Since you want to know when I’m going to fuck you, Camry, I’m more than happy to oblige,” he growled, pulling me by the ankles towards the edge of the bed. He snaked an arm around my stomach and lifted me until I was standing on my feet.

  “Ass in the air,” he commanded, placing a hand between my shoulder blades and pushing me forward.

  My hands were still bound behind my back, so there was no way to brace myself before landing on my face. I was in a perfect position, face down, ass up. My husband thought so as well.

  “Your ass looks absolutely delectable from this view,” he rumbled, hands caressing my skin before grasping my hips and pulling me against him.

  “Fuck…” Garland groaned as he entered me from behind, pressing his thick cock in as far as it would go.

  The bed covers muffled my cry of invasion. Luckily, I was already soaking wet, or th
at shit would have been painful.

  This was clearly meant to be the punishment fuck.

  The pre-Roman Garland was back. This is how he used to fuck me. Unapologetically.

  He fucked me slowly at first, letting my body adjust before taking off the training wheels and fucking me harder, showing me who’s boss.

  This was actually his favorite way to fuck me—it wasn’t typically used as punishment. He claimed that the sight of my ass in the air was like watching a beautiful sunset while on his way to nirvana.

  My husband could be so goddamn poetic.

  Garland murmured God-knows-what while intermittently slapping my ass as he fucked me, and I moaned even louder; burying my face in the covers so that they swallowed up the brunt of them.

  He abruptly stopped after a moment; a string of Russian curses went flying from his mouth in obvious displeasure.

  “Whatever it is, it can wait five fucking minutes!” he roared in anger, startling me.

  Someone was banging at the door. Shit.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked breathlessly; and with just a little bit of embarrassment. I didn’t hear the knocking, but whoever it was had surely heard me.

  “What’s wrong is, I can’t fuck my wife in peace. If someone isn’t dying, they soon will be,” Garland vowed, sounding pissed.

  I felt his hand brush against mine; then a quick tug on my binds before they suddenly loosened. An automatic sigh left my mouth—then a wince, as the blood came rushing instantly back to my hands. I hadn’t even realized they were going numb.

  “Turn over, I’m not yet done with you,” Garland directed in a clipped tone, pulling away from my body.

  “Um, what if that’s important?” I asked worriedly, doubting anyone would have been banging at the door otherwise.

  “This is important,” he said through gritted teeth, unconcerned.

  I flipped over onto my back, not about to argue with him when he was clearly vexed. I didn’t want my ass slapped again in punishment.

  Garland climbed between my legs and pushed my thighs apart before entering my body. “Nothing, is more important than this, Camry,” he bit out hoarsely.

  I moaned in response, bringing my now freed hands up to clutch in his hair. Garland sealed his mouth to mine and kissed me as he fucked me, swallowing my ecstasy-filled cries. I wondered idly if he were doing it intentionally, not wanting whoever was out there to hear. I could’ve cared less who heard me at the moment because I was about ten seconds away from bliss.

  My husband groaned loudly when my body tightened around his cock—squeezing it for all it’s worth, right before I let go. My orgasm erupted like a volcano. Garland grunted as I sobbed, a flood of immense pleasure coiling through my body and sending me spiraling towards Mt. Olympus. Or damn near. I was no doubt putting on quite the show as I moaned both Garland and God’s names loudly enough that the whole world probably heard it.

  Garland was right behind me, cock surging powerfully as he let out a guttural cry against my neck, announcing his completion. He pulled out just in time, spraying his warm semen on my body instead of inside of me.

  He was serious when he’d said there would be no knocking me up tonight.

  We both lay panting and breathing laboriously, spent bodies glued together from sweat and other unmentionable bodily fluids. Garland was quick to recover, though.

  “Sorry, sweetheart, I had to rush that along,” he said gruffly, giving me a quick kiss before climbing from my body and leaving the bed.

  “Am I permitted to remove this?” I asked of the blindfold.

  “Of course, Camry, I don’t want you bumping into walls.”

  Smart ass.

  When I removed the material from my eyes, I saw his fleeing back as he slipped into the bathroom. The water came on and went off again, then Garland reappeared about twenty seconds later. He went over to the dresser and retrieved his phone.

  “Shit,” he muttered looking at the display screen.

  “Something wrong?” I asked, struggling into a sitting position.

  Garland reached for his pants on the floor and quickly slipped them on. He didn’t even bother with a shirt or shoes as he moved toward the door. “I’m not sure, but you should go get cleaned up, Camry, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said, taking the stairs then promptly exiting.

  Twenty-Five

  G A R L A N D

  “What the fuck happened?!” I demanded as soon as I walked into the room where all the men were gathered.

  If I didn’t get satisfactory answers quickly, people were going to start dying.

  “They must have known we were coming—they were expecting us, Savin had another team of men waiting, we were ambushed from behind. We took heavy fire; two of our men were injured,” Joe reported grimly.

  “How badly was he hit?” I asked, jaw clenched in anger.

  “He took a hit to the leg and shoulder, but the one to the leg must have hit an artery because he lost a lot of blood,” Joe answered with undisguised worry in his eyes.

  “Savin?” I questioned.

  “Dead. A clean extraction wasn’t possible.”

  My hands clenched into fists as I seethed, the furious rage inside of me just begging to be unleashed.

  “Nothing can be done about that now, so we move to Plan-B immediately. Gather the men at the warehouse and wait for further instructions from Drakos,” I ordered.

  “Boss!” Joe called, following behind me as I turned to leave the waiting room. “I’d rather stay here, Stack can handle the other men for now.”

  I turned to look at him—a sharp reprimand on the tip of my tongue, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to respond out of anger. Joe was more than just an employee, he was family. I knew he wasn’t insubordinate; he was worried about Viktor.

  I nodded my head in concession. “But I’ll need you there in a couple of hours.”

  After barking demands and badgering the emergency room staff, a flustered looking dark-haired nurse came out of the operating room to give a report. The bullet to the shoulder had gone straight through and exited—as well as the round to the leg, but that one nicked an artery on its way out. They were working to get the internal bleeding stopped, but Viktor had lost a lot of blood. It was a severe and possibly fatal wound. She would give me another update as soon as she could.

  Shit. I felt my chest tighten. I knew femoral artery wounds were fatal more so than not.

  How the fuck could this happen?

  Viktor was by no means invincible, but he was always thorough and careful. How could Savin’s men have gotten the drop on him? Of course, Savin knew the assassination attempt had failed and that his captured man had likely talked. He had to expect retaliation. But, how did prior reconnaissance not detect more guards? How did they know the strike would happen tonight?

  “I want answers, Joe, something about this doesn’t feel right. That ambush shouldn’t have happened. Both you and Viktor are strategic planners and damn good at what you do. A second team shouldn’t have been missed.”

  Joe nodded his head in agreement. “I’m already one step ahead of you, boss.”

  After returning Camry’s text; reassuring her everything was okay, my men and I commandeered the nearby smaller waiting room. I tried keeping my mind off of the gut-wrenching worry by busying myself with business. I made several calls to several influential people. What happened tonight would create a hell of a shit-storm. A colossal mess would have to be cleaned up. The authorities would have to be dealt with.

  I then made my final call, the one that would put everything into motion. I was positioned to be on the frontline of it, but now—with Viktor, I would have to hand the reins over to others.

  “Drakos, go ahead and give the orders. I want all the targets accounted for before the strikes—not even a mouse had better come out of there alive. Let me know when it’s done,” I instructed.

  Next, I called Vasily in New York and gave the same exact order.

  Everyt
hing would happen simultaneously; it was too large an operation to carry out personally. That’s what I had people for. The Ostrovsky’s ran a relatively large organization that spanned from Southern Florida to Los Angeles, and to New York’s Brighton Beach. I was about to decimate it all.

  Everything they owned would be obliterated right along with them. The Ostrovsky organization would no longer exist after tonight.

  I could have taken out only a few targets, the ones I knew for sure were personally involved. However, I intended to make a statement tonight that couldn’t be ignored.

  Come after my family, I’m coming after yours.

  Every last one of them.

  Even your fucking dog.

  Just like the Reaper. After all, it’s how I’d earned my nickname.

  There would always be men who had bigger balls than brains. If they were stupid enough to fuck with me, knowing who I am, who my father is, then they deserved everything they were going to get.

  I thought back to my wife’s quiet sobs as I held her in the back of the Rover that night. It had equally broken my heart and enraged me. Protecting her was my sole responsibility as her husband; those bastards gave zero fucks if she’d been killed right along with me. And for that egregious offense, everything they cared about would be destroyed.

  Innocent lives would be lost, but you couldn’t afford to have a heart when waging war. Power and a show of strength won battles. Not bearing your neck to a wolf. A man couldn’t afford to ever show weakness, or he’d become everyone’s prey.

  And to think, all of this shit started with that mu’dak, Andrei Chvetski. I’d foolishly allowed him in on a business deal and quickly came to regret it. When I told him to fuck-off and returned his initial capital, he became a problem. He thought his standing and connections somehow granted him entitlements; gave him immunity from my wrath when he started fucking with my business.

  When he disappeared, both his brother and his niece pointed the finger my way. Rightly so. However, accusations were one thing, proving it, another. Chvetski’s brother didn’t have the power nor the balls to come after me, but the niece was related to the Ostrovsky’s on her mother’s side. She also happened to be fucking a police officer, Detective Broggs.