The Chronicles of Young Dmitry Medlov: Book One

by Latrivia Nelson

  “I have you to thank for it,” Dmitry said humbly.

  As the butler came in, dressed in a simple black suit, he bowed and then popped up into his an erect, almost rigid stance. “Good morning, sirs. What may I order up for breakfast today?” he said with a British accent.

  “Eggs, bacon, steak, orange juice, fruit and…” Dmitry looked at Davyd. “Vodka.”

  Davyd smiled. “Especially vodka.”

  For the next hour among a table full of food and drinks, the men sat near the sunlight recounting the previous night’s events. Dmitry did not miss one detail. Forgetting his elevated position, he reverted back to the boy that Davyd had known before he’d ever laid eyes on the Hutton family and with the enthusiasm of a young child, he told his story.

  Davyd listened on amazed at what he had missed, regretful that he had been ordered to stay. Only, he knew that this was something that his boss had to do alone. He had faced his deepest, darkest dread with his brother at his side. As he watched Dmitry talk, he wondered if finally Ivan’s lust for power had been sated, wondered if he finally felt a part of the family that he had helped built. He wanted desperately to even as Dmitry but was afraid to drown his uncharacteristic happiness with the cold reality that he had in his camp, his greatest obstacle still.

  When they were done, Dmitry stood and hugged him tightly, thanking him again for his support and promising that this new unchartered journey would benefit them all.

  “Go to my suite. It’s yours now. Get some rest and then head back to London. We have loads to do. When I get back from Angola, I’ll meet you at the castle,” Dmitry said, patting Davyd on the back as they walked down the marble hallway to the golden elevators with the bodyguards in front of them and behind them.

  “Don’t you think I should go with you?”

  “No, I’ll take a few men, but I need eyes and ears in London. I need someone I can trust to tell me what’s really being said and done while I’m gone. I can’t be at two places at one time. I’ll need you to watch my back, run the men,” Dmitry said, wiping his tired, red eyes. He yawned. “I’ll get a few hours of rest and then head out once Elsa gets here.”

  “Can you trust her?” Davyd asked directly.

  Dmitry shrugged his shoulders. “Time will tell. For now, she seems very useful.”

  “Just do me a favor, boy?” Davyd asked as he hit the button on the elevator to go down.

  “Anything.”

  “Don’t start thinking with your cock. You’re not like most young men, and I know that. But I just don’t want to see you deceived.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Dmitry said with a chuckle.

  As he assured Davyd the doors to the elevator opened and there stood Elsa. In a simple gray wool dress that stopped right above her knees and in red stilettos that made her even taller than Davyd, she clutched an arm full of papers. Her long black hair was pulled into a bun and her face was flawlessly colored with deep, red lips and bright brown eyes. Chanel perfume wafted up to their noses, tickling their senses as only a woman could.

  Dmitry was awestruck. Pure, illogical lust imploded in his body.

  Davyd’s point was made. With a quiet nod, he stepped past Elsa on to the elevator and nodded at Dmitry. “Remember what I said, brat,” he said as the doors closed.

  Elsa heart skipped at beat at the sight of Dmitry. He stood like a king in the hallway, dressed like a lord in the early morn, his golden hair and blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. Biting her lip, she smiled at him.

  Dmitry stepped forward without a word and bent to her lips.

  She lifted her chin and received a single, sweet kiss. His tongue brushing lightly on her own, tasting of orange juice and mint.

  “It’s good to see you,” she whispered, clutching her papers tighter.

  Dmitry growled, sweeping her body with one devastating look. “But I haven’t seen you yet,” he said, wrapping his arm around her thin shoulders.

  They walked quietly back down the hallway. The clink of her heels on the floor echoed around them.

  Dmitry’s bodyguards quietly moved to the side, knowing that Elsa would not have the same greeting as Davyd.

  The strain of exhaustion quickly left Dmitry. With a guided hand, he led her to the master bedroom.

  “You have a very nice suite,” she noted.

  “I recently acquired the hotel,” Dmitry confessed.

  “More acquisitions?” she said with a raised brow.

  “It’s a long story. How is everything at Hutton? I trust all is running smoothly.”

  “As smoothly as it can be,” she answered with a huff. “Scotland Yard called again this morning with more questions. We submitted a statement about the plane accident, but you really should consider attending the funerals of your board members.”

  Dmitry ignored her advice. “I’ll think about it,” he said under his breath.

  Opening the door to the bedroom, he stepped aside and let her examine the room.

  She stepped inside and looked around. It was an enormous room adorned with dark drapes, a king-sized bed and a large oak desk. She placed her papers the desk and turned to him.

  He looked back at his bodyguards who took their posts at the bedroom door, quietly aware of what was about to happen. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it and watched her.

  “And so here we are,” she said in a playful voice.

  “Finally.” Dmitry walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Looking down at her, he pushed closer to her body until they were nearly one.

  His heat felt like the sun radiating down on her body. She relished in it…missed it. “Dmitry,” she said, feeling herself lose all composure.

  “Hmm,” he answered as he unzipped her wool dress. His cold hands touched her bare skin and sent a zinger up her spine.

  Nervousness made her voice tremble. “I think that I’m falling in love with you.” She looked up at him for approval. Her brown eyes sparkled with innocence and despair.

  Dmitry pulled the dress from her shoulders and pushed it down past her wide hips until it pooled around her heels. He clenched his square jaw tight as he looked at her, holding back words that he knew might hurt her. She shielded her eyes when he did not respond to hide her disappointment, but Dmitry quickly pulled her chin up.

  His own confession was looming. “I do not think that I’m capable of love, but I…” he frowned. “I can show you tremendous favor, Elsa.”

  Favor?

  Elsa was sure that of all the responses in the entire world that response had been a first. She was confused about what to say. A sensible woman would have told him to go and fuck himself before she stormed out, but she was not a sensible woman. Thinking about Vladimir only confirmed that fact.

  Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “I’ve always moved to fast,” she explained, thinking of her last bad relationship – one that had ended in her being traded off like livestock. It was amazing that she had any self-esteem left between her father and the men who had sworn to love her. Life was strange that way, always full of winding roads and deep valleys. It was just sad that she had to learn that through the people that she had chosen to trust the most.

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Dmitry said, unsnapping her bra. “I married a woman, because she promised to teach me good manners,” he joked.

  Elsa couldn’t help but laugh. It dramatically changed the mood. She liked that he was candid and always as hard on himself as she was on herself. It made them a perfect pair.

  Pulling the black undergarment from her chocolate skin, he watched her nipples pebble before him. His mouth watered. Her form was perfect and the deep, dark color of her areoles.

  Trailing his finger down her collar bone down to her breasts, he massaged the inviting globes slowly, watching her fall under his spell. “I need you, Elsa. That might not be love, but it’s the closest thing that I can offer to it.” His deep voice rumbled near her throat as he growled a kiss to her neck
.

  Instinctively, she closed her eyes and felt goose bumps form. Like an avalanche they ran down from the peaks of her breasts down to her ankles. Breathing deeply, she raked her nails over his back as he kissed her skin.

  “I’ll take it. Your favor,” she said in a strange English accent as he picked her up. She loved the way he cradled her, like a baby. She had never felt so safe in a man’s arms before. And she doubted that she would ever feel this safe again.

  Carrying her to the bed, Dmitry laid her down in the middle of the bed and pulled her lace panties from her body. Parting her legs with eager hands, he slipped a finger in between her steamy thighs and into the wetness of her womanhood. He wiggled it around, making her come alive and shed her protective wall, invisibly keeping her from responding to his every will.

  Dmitry knew that sex with a real woman was never about the act, but about the underlying promises made before, during and after. She needed to know that there was always more between them than just making love. That was why it was so hard to be with a real woman.

  Arching her back, she looked up at him, watching his every move. In her mind, she wondered what it would take to turn the lust she saw in his dreamy eyes into love. She wondered if he knew that she would do anything to have that transformation in him.

  Dmitry, however, was on another wave length. The anger that he had felt for his father, the rage that he had unleashed on all those people had quickly dissolved into a raging need that only she could satisfy. He truly did need her right now. He needed her to put out the fire, to sate the dragon lurking deep down in his soul.

  Pulling off his shirt and tie, finally his undershirt and pants, he stood in front of her naked, ripped with muscles, breathing hard, and colored in tattoos that served as testimony to elevated position in the Vor. Just the sight of him was overwhelming. Dmitry Medlov was force to be reckoned with.

  One strong hand stroked his eager penis and the other reached out for her.

  She responded by reaching out her hand to him. As soon as she did, he grabbed her and pulled her to the end of the large bed. The friction heated her back as she slid down the gold satin down comforter to his prison-like embrace.

  Glancing down at the dark curly hair trimmed against her panty line, he kneeled on his knees before her like he was feasting on a meal. His hands rested on her inner thighs. Only inches away, she felt his warm breath hissing on her skin.

  “Favor,” he said seductively before pummeling mercilessly into her.

  Grabbing his blonde locks, she coiled her long legs around him as he tasted her. His kiss was so deep until she could feel his skillful tongue slithering deep inside her.

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes.” Her voice sounded like a caged bird finally being set free.

  Dmitry’s hands clenched her thighs, holding her down to the bed in position. Sucking her body and lapping up the scent of arousal, he felt her sex clench tight.

  “Dmitry,” she moaned. Her eyes averted to the top of the canopy. “I love you,” she confessed again in a near whisper. Tears ran down the sides of her cheeks, burning her beautiful brown eyes. And although she could not contain them, she hoped desperately that he would not see them.

  He did, however, only he chose to ignore them.

  How Dmitry wished the words would fill the emptiness that hollowed him from the inside out. How he wished that she could take away his pain. But he knew that while he enjoyed the feel of her, he was void of what she needed. A man incomplete could never provide any absolution for a woman - only pain. And one thing he was certain of is that he was overflowing with pain. It burdened him even now, flanked over him like large, black crow. Death was on his scent and he knew death was in his future.

  Flashes of his father’s pale, dead face entered his racing mind as he licked her. He tried to push it away, but the enclosure of her legs suddenly felt suffocating like the box his father was currently housed in. He emerged with a deep breath, head up, eyes closed.

  Elsa felt his surge of emotion. She looked up at him just in time to see his eyes open and pain flash in them. It was then that she knew that in her own thoughts, she hadn’t taken time to notice. Something bad had happened over the last day … something tragic even.

  Standing up, Dmitry reached for her narrow hips and in one sweeping motion, rolled her over in the bed on to her belly. Her long legs adjusted to sink her knees into the mattress. She felt him pull her shoes off and heard them as they hit the floor beside them, followed by her silk stockings. Then there was a long pause.

  Looking back at him, she saw Dmitry slip a condom on to his long shaft. He focused attentively on the latex, rolling it over his exposed flesh with care. Looking up at her, he winked.

  “This will only take a minute,” he said in a deep, Russian accent that sent chills down her spine.

  “Hurry,” she said eager to feel him.

  Nearly a foot away from her, he stealthily moved forward, planting one tattooed knee up on the bed. And then, she felt a familiar stab. Flesh entering flesh. A warmness sucked into her body, invading her sanity.

  “Ahh,” she cried out, eyes focusing back on the ornate oak headboard.

  His hands found their way to her hips as he guided himself in and out slowly, never fully entering until she was perfectly ready.

  Tight and starting to sweat, she reached a hand back to put on his. A pain stretched through her from her toes to her neck.

  “Are you ready?” he asked calmly.

  “Yes,” she panted, nodding at the same time that she fought to breathe.

  He stroked her slowly. “Are you sure?” he stroked her again. His voice was deeper. His eyes never left the single bead of sweat that had fallen from his face onto the small of her slim back.

  “Please,” she begged, gripping the covers. Her red nails snagged the fabric. “Make love to me.” Just then, her long black hair fanned over her shoulder.

  There was something feminine and beautiful about her feline movements. He found her completely different from Catherine. She was more agile, more generous, more enjoyable, and if possible more beautiful.

  Dmitry slowed to a stop. Pausing as he watched her move her hips around, he ran his hand down her back. “You’re so beautiful, Elsa.” He said it as if it was the first time that he had noticed.

  The small acknowledgment only turned her on more. “Do it,” she growled. “Give me all of you.”

  He wanted to do just that. In fact, he had thought about making love to her every single night since he had been away from her. Still he had to remember not to indulge too much in her treasures, less he fall into an abyss of emotional confusion the way many men of power had done before him. And the result had always been the same.

  Despair.

  Deceit.

  Destruction.

  No.

  He could not afford such a tragedy and neither could she. Yet, he longed to know what love felt like, what even she must have been feeling at that very moment.

  The least that he could do was give her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams, the favor of an exciting life and finally the choice to move on when she found someone who could provide her with what he surely could not. A man in his position was required to do at least that for a woman who had given so much and asked nothing in return.

  Moving back into the present reality, he finally did as she begged, he felt her buck her firm backside against his shaft and arch her back. Pulling away from her slick womb, he held her tiny hips up and thrust into her ripe body until she exploded. The connection was unmistakable.

  Dmitry’s head flung back as he invaded her. She swallowed him greedily, moving against his force with immense power of her own. He gave to her as much as he knew that she could take, each pump into her body making her voice raise an octave. He could see that he was paralyzing her, still she begged for more.

  Bending down to make sure that his chest lay on her back, he kissed the side of her neck. She purred like a cat when she felt his lips on her cla
vicle.

  Moving inside of her was like a dream. He floated somewhere between reality and bliss. The delicious feeling of her flower opening up and blooming around him made him forget the festering images quietly hunting him.

  In a beautiful synchronic dance, she moved with him, holding him close, riding him hard, bearing down on his body and closing in on his evanescent thoughts.

  They fought against each other quietly until he finally needed to see her face. Pulling her off of him like a sheath, he turned her to her side and held her long legs like scissors. In between them, he pushed into her body slowly, exacting his thrust until he felt her body began to clench tighter.