The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Book One

by Latrivia Nelson

  Loosening his hand, he ran his finger over her red, plump lips and into her wet mouth.

  She sucked it roughly, biting at his fingertips as he leaned further into her. As soon as he was in reach and eye level with her, he felt her razor sharp nails trail against his chest, cutting into his perfect skin as she attacked. He didn’t bother to wince away. Instead, he pushed against her nails, into the pain, just to get closer to her.

  Starring deep into the abyss of her eyes as he lay on top of her with his knees mounted into the bed, he was stunned at what he saw. His match. His equal. Finally. His mouth watered for her. “Let’s dance, bitch,” he whispered as he drew her into him. She wrapped her legs around his upper torso, too short to reach the rest of him and made him roll over.

  With his large hands rubbing her small breasts roughly, Ivan pulled her shirt off her first, then her black satin bra. He threw her clothes on the floor and studied her bare frame. Even in the dark, he could see scars from many battles. Clutching her tiny waist, he pulled her to him as he sat his back against the headboard and slivered his long tongue around her brown areolas. Biting her nipples, he moaned feeling his breaths become more sporadic.

  She closed her eyes, feeling zingers of heat shoot through her body. He sucked at her violently, like a child who had been denied his mother’s breasts as a child. Fingers ran through his black inky mane and then snatched his head back. Looking into his blue eyes, she leaned in to kiss his full mouth but his hands had found her pants, stopping her. Unable to get them completely off, he threw her back on the bed and crawled over her, snatching her pants down with her panties.

  Her body jerked, but she laughed, kicking him as she flayed her short, perfect legs. Her laughter was contagious. He grinned seductively as she opened wide and slipped three of her own fingers into her sex.

  Ivan sat on his knees watching her while she pleasured herself, then pulled her hand away and made her taste her fingers. She sucked all but one, and then offered it to him.

  “I’ve got something for you to suck on,” Ivan growled as he moved over her. With his legs across her chest, he guided himself into her mouth as far he could fit. He heard her choke, but he only laughed. As he was about to push further down her throat, he felt her small hands squeezing his balls.

  Reflexes alive, he pulled back, and she quickly pulled her body from under him. Standing on the bed, she pushed his head back and smacked him.

  He laughed. “You weren’t ready for that one, were you? Lesson one; don’t bite off more than you can chew.” His accent was lyrical. In his own way, he was making love to her, enjoying more than penetration.

  She walked up to him on the bed and rubbed her hairy mound in his face. The wiry hair felt rough against his skin. “Your smell is intoxicating,” he said, rubbing his large hands over her muscular thighs. “Have you showered?”

  “No,” she said with a grin.

  “Good,” he answered, opening her wide. Keeping his eyes on her, he tasted the inner folds of her body. She nearly fell into his embrace as he made her melt, until she felt from behind his large finger probing at her anus.

  “Do it,” she urged, bucking against him.

  There was a long silence and careful calculation. Slipping one set of fingers inside of her sex and the other inside of her anus, he had her just where he wanted her.

  Moaning aloud, she pinched her nipples and pushed squarely down with all of her might against him.

  Ivan was becoming too aroused. Pearls of sex started to drip out of his throbbing head. He quickly removed his hand and pushed her anus down on his erection. Looking down at her, he waited for her to scream out, but she did not. Instead, little dirty Arie took all of him. Their powerful thrusts into each other made for an illicit song of pleasure down the hallways. Moans and groans were followed by cursing and slapping.

  “I want you from behind,” Ivan said, cupping her chin in his hand. He was dying to see her in more pleasure and pain.

  Getting behind her in a swift motion, he positioned her on top of as many pillows as could balance her body and then invaded her from behind. Grabbing a hand full of her hair, he reached back with the other hand and slapped her bare behind, wet with sweat and sex.

  She finally screamed out. The sound of her pleasure nearly pushed him to climax along with the freedom of raw abandon. His muscles tightened.

  Reaching back again with his large, foreboding hand, he slapped her harder. The sound echoed throughout the dark room and down the hall.

  She cried out in pain, but did not move. Instead, she braced herself for another.

  Ivan drove deeper and harder into her anus once more before he quickly moved to her wet, open sex. He turned her over on the bed, but realized that their height difference was preventing him from going as deep as he wanted.

  Picking her up, he pushed her violently against the wall and drove into her body, knocking the century old paintings to the floor and the air out of her vulnerable body. Her head hit the wall with a thud, then her body was invaded by relentless and lustful pumps. Pleasure exploded through the both of them as they finally connected.

  Dazed, she held on to him as he slicked in and out of her stretched body, wet and steely, with the strength of a thousand men and the endurance of one real one. Looking down at her as he pumped into her body, he began to laugh.

  “What?” she asked out of breath. “What’s so fucking funny?”

  “You’re bleeding,” he said, wiping her nose with his index finger.

  Chapter Eight

  Dmitry had come up to talk to Ivan about their plan of attack when he arrived back home after his long ride, but had found that his brother was currently in a compromising position. Without being detected, Dmitry slipped his hand inside of the door and locked it, then closed it shut to ensure that Dorian did not find out that his sister was being used like a rag doll.

  Mentally and physically exhausted, he trudged back over to his side of the house, turning off lights as he passed them. He didn’t know why he still bothered with trying to conserve electricity, but he felt compelled to never waste anything considering where he had come from as a boy.

  As he arrived at the long foreboding stairwell that led up to his bedroom, he thought again about Elsa. He wondered if it would be best to let her freshen up before he confronted her or would the element of surprise be best to get the truth.

  After dragging himself up the stairs that reminded him of Mount Niesen in the Swiss Alps because of their never ending climb, he finally passed her room and went down to his own to take a shower.

  Patience was a virtue. Plus, at the moment, he was a bit put out.

  Tonight, it seemed more aggravating than normal that Ivan was yet with another woman when he hadn’t been with even one since before his arrangement with Catherine. How it was that a boy so young had such an active sex life was almost unbelievable – if he hadn’t known himself.

  There was also the salt on his growing wound - Elsa’s possible betrayal. What did she tell Vladimir? Why was she spying? What was she after? This game of cat and mouse that he always found himself playing was taxing business with no possible end in sight.

  Frustrated, he burst through his bedroom door and slammed it behind him. Throwing his cares to the wind, he took off his leather jacket, pulled off his jeans and sweater and threw his underwear in the hamper in the bathroom.

  As he turned the brass knobs to his shower, he finally felt a little calm creeping into his hectic thoughts. Just a moment’s breather before the storm, he muttered to himself.

  Massaging his temples and thinking, while the room filled with fog and the smell of sandalwood, he knelt down into the corner of the shower and hid away from the world. The weight of his position sometimes became too much, but he could never show anyone. Instead, in moments like this, he lamented quietly without as much as a word spoken.

  With the water beating against him, shooting from the jets embedded into the luxury contraption, he sat snarling like a cornere
d animal, looking across the shower through the water into the abyss of his thoughts. Fear. Anger. Pain. Determination. So many emotions swirled through his heart until he felt his eyes blazing, his hands trembling.

  Then the moment was over. Compartmentalizing his emotions and locking them away again in the box in the back of his head, he stood up, shook it all off.

  Running his face and head through the stream, he rinsed himself off and stepped out into the cool air. Blonde curly hair covered his body from ankle to waist. He went to the sink with the large towel wrapped around his lower body and checked his chest. He had just shaved it the night before and only a little stubble had grown back.

  He smirked at himself. “You still think you’re going to bed her, you silly fool,” he said to himself as he brushed his teeth.

  After his normal grooming, he slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms and gray t-shirt and lay in his bed. Melting into the comfort of the mattress, he closed his eyes and sighed. He could hear his breathing slow into a rhythmic melody of sleep, and felt his body begging to rest. Pulling the pillow under his head, he looked up at the ceiling and thought of Catherine.

  “Look what you’ve done to me,” he said aloud. “You’ve handed me a mess. Now, I have to go and do this.” He shook his head. Pulling himself back out of the bed, he left his bedroom and walked slowly down to Elsa’s door. He stood at it for a minute debating whether or not he should knock. As he raised his hand to pound on the door, she opened it.

  Peering up at him as she clutched her red kimono closed, she spoke. “Is there anything the matter, sir?” she asked innocently.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said, trying to avoid the smidgeon of bare flesh that peaked out of the top of her gown.

  “I’ll just get dressed then,” she said, nodding.

  As she closed the door, Dmitry caught it and sighed. “Now, Elsa. Step aside.”

  Walking in, he closed the door behind him. The room reeked of her sweet perfume. He took a deep breath and turned to her. She looked even more beautiful without makeup. He guessed that she too was fresh out of the shower as he noticed the wet strands of her hair dangling out of her ponytail onto her gown.

  “How did you know that I was outside?” he asked, looking around her room. Papers were piled on every desk and all over her bed. She evidently had plans of working all night.

  “I saw your shadow under the doorway,” she answered with her arms crossed.

  Dmitry looked into her doe-like eyes and smirked. “Who do you work for? Vladimir or me?”

  She bucked her eyes, shocked at his question. Moving her weight from one foot to the other, she gripped her arms with her long fingers. “I don’t understand your question.”

  “A smart zhenshchina like you? Of course you do.”

  “I work you for,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Then why do you report to him?”

  “I don’t.” She cleared her throat.

  “Don’t lie to me. You don’t know me well enough to get on my bad side,” he said in a low growl. He locked his eyes on her. “I try to know all of the movements around me. And you are around me, so I have to know what you are doing at all times.”

  Elsa’s eyes narrowed. “I am here to help you with your business. Outside of your business, you have no right to my personal life,” she snarled.

  “You don’t have a personal life as long as you work for me.” He bent to her. “Now, what were you doing at Vladimir’s apartment today after you left the office?”

  “You were spying on me?” she asked in disbelief.

  “I am protecting my interests,” he said in a thick Russian accent. “Now, tell me this very instant what you were doing there.”

  Elsa breathed in through her nose, flaring her nostrils. “I left a few things behind when Vladimir moved me out. It was a sudden decision to come here, after we broke up. I was missing some of my own books for class. I went there to collect my things.” Tears ran down her face. “It had nothing to do with you or your business or your interests. I have a life outside of you and outside of Vladimir.” She shook her head in disgust. “I was gifted to you because he didn’t want me anymore. And I was gifted to him by my father. But I am no object, Dmitry.” She began to cry. “I am a person.” Blinking tears, she wiped her face and turned from him.

  Dmitry went to the phone and picked it up. “Call him and thank him for allowing you to pick up your things today,” he said, handing her the phone. “And I’ll listen. If he sounds like he knows what you are talking about, then I’ll apologize. If he doesn’t, then you’ll leave here now with the clothes on your back and walk in the cold back to town. But I doubt you’ll make it back.”

  Elsa grabbed the phone. Dialing Vladimir, she wiped the tears from her face.

  “Da,” Vladimir said, answering quickly.

  “It’s Elsa,” she said, looking up at Dmitry, who bent down to her to listen onto the call.

  “I know who it is. Why are you calling me?”

  “I wanted to…make sure I didn’t leave anything today.”

  “For God’s sake, no. You said you left your books for class. I had the maid set them on the credenza. Nothing else is here for you. Now stop calling. You’re Dmitry’s problem now,” he said, hanging up the phone in her face.

  Elsa looked up at Dmitry and hung up. “Are you happy now?” Tears ran freely.

  Dmitry took the phone and hung it up. “From the deepest parts of my heart, I apologize for offending you,” he said, bowing.

  Elsa wiped her face again. “Please leave,” she begged.

  Dmitry did not move. “Why were you gifted to a man like Vladimir?”

  “You are relentless,” she said, throwing her hands up.

  “I really want to know.” His voice was soothing now. He watched her carefully.

  “My father needed money for things for his government that he could not get anywhere else but Khalid. It was untraceable, and it was a bit of an emergency.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I was smart, and I was educated in the world. My father told me that part of paying off his debt was the agreement that I would come to help Vladimir while we were both in college. I was to be his assistant of sorts, but we became more than that. Then we started to have many disagreements, and when Khalid called and said that he needed Vladimir to help you to get your businesses in order, Vladimir figured that he would get rid of me and solve both of his problems at once.”

  Dmitry looked down at the ground. “So was this the first time that you were passed around?”

  The words hurt her to her core. “Yes,” she said disgusted. “I always thought that I was worth more to him than that.”

  Dmitry shook his head. “How often do you talk to your father?”

  “When either he wants something or I need something,” she answered shortly.

  “How would you like to stop being passed around?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ll make you a deal that doesn’t involve you doing anything that you don’t want to do.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “When I make you president of Hutton Industries, I want you to call your father and tell him how gracious I have been and how lucrative a relationship with someone like me could be. Then, I want you to arrange a meeting where you will encourage him to purchase all of his black market munitions from Medlov Enterprises.”

  Elsa looked up at him. “What is Medlov Enterprises?”

  “It’s the reason that I’m cutting so many jobs and so many departments. I need the capital to focus on my true business. I have obligations that I need to meet, that have been looming since before my wife’s death. So, I’m going to strip the company bare-bone and use the capital to fund my own underground operation.”

  “Well, what I’m supposed to do with a dying company?” she asked confused.

  “Build it back up. You’re coming from Oxford. You’re landing a great job. You can make it what you want it to be; I don’t care what you
do with it after I get what I need.”

  She thought long and hard for a moment, and then shook her head in agreement. “Alright. If you make me president, I’ll do it. But I won’t owe you after that.”

  “No, you won’t,” he said, offering his hand.

  Elsa looked down at his massive fingers then stuck her own delicate hand in his to shake it. As she did so, he curled his fingers around hers and pulled him to her. Only a foot shorter than him, he bent to her waist and pulled her up to him.

  “But you owe me now,” he said whispering on her lips. “And I owe you. So, shall we settle up?”