She nods.
“And this doesn’t bother you, knowing that we’re enemies?”
“You’re not my enemy,” she replies softly and she may as well have just twisted the knife into my gut, cause fuck my life I couldn’t kill her now no matter how badly I needed to.
“You aren’t mine either,” I respond, and it’s like a switch is flipped. She launches herself at me, her arms circling my neck, her thighs wrapping around my hips as I lift her, bringing her body to mine.
My mouth lands on hers—hard, wanting, craving—needing to take what it’s missed so desperately. Stumbling forward, I rest her body against the cold wall, just like I did the first time we were together.
“I want you,” she gasps between sloppy, rushed kisses. Her body becomes more and more turned on as my cock grows harder and rests against her center.
“How much?”
“So much, Spartak. Please!”
“Here, now?”
“Yes. It’s been too long; I want to feel you inside me again.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. Hiking her dress up, until the fitted material’s resting at her waist line, I rip her panties to the side, pushing two of my fingers inside, priming her for me.
“Even better than I remember,” I mumble moments later, slipping my hand free and pulling out my cock.
She sinks her teeth into my chin, just hard enough to make me growl. Her curves are more pronounced than I remember. My hands are full of her everywhere they roam, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
“You’re so sexy. Did your ass get bigger?”
Through the warmness of our body heat and rush, I’m still able to make out the rosy hue on the tops of her cheeks. I don’t know if she’s embarrassed or angry about my observation.
“Yes, maybe a few sizes.”
“I fucking love it. Your entire body is better now. You were beautiful before, but shit, you’re gorgeous, Victoria.”
It must be the right answer as she rewards me by squirming just enough for my cock to push inside her.
“Gorgeous and you feel fucking amazing.”
“So do you, Spartak; you fit me perfectly.” She moans as I thrust deeply.
I could never get my fill of this woman. It’s been too long and my ideals about her have built up so much over the years that I’m at the point of wanting to kidnap her away from her family and keep her. They’d kill me if I did that, although they’d probably kill me if they found us like this too. Or I could just off them first and take care of all of our problems. I don’t know how Victoria would feel about that, though.
Her nails sink into my chest as she rips my button-up shirt open to reveal my muscular torso. The buttons pop off and fly in every direction, making me chuckle. She’s strong and wild, just like before—just like I dreamed. I don’t even know her and yet I missed her. How is that possible?
“Yes!” She gasps as I drive into her again. Victoria has my mind spinning; she feels so damn good. I can’t believe it that I’m holding her in my arms right now. I feel like I’ve waited forever for this—like it isn’t real.
“Are you real?”
“Of course I am. I’m one hundred percent real and right here.”
“Oh thank God.” I murmur, tucking my face into her neck, breathing in her scent. “You still taste like strawberries and smell delicious,” I say, staying in the same place where I can taste her skin, smell her scent, feel her soft hair, and bask in her warm body. She’s exactly what I need, what I want.
I thrust deeply, driving myself in her until I’m fully seated and she’s moaning so loudly that I have to cover her mouth with my palm to quiet her down.
“Shhh, moy kpacota.” At my words, she begins to throb inside, her legs clenching around me tightly as her orgasm hits.
Her nails grip into my shoulder blades, as she orders me, “Suck on my nipples, now!”
I do as she tells me, pulling one pebbled nipple into my mouth, and biting down, just enough to finish pushing her over the edge. Once she’s sated and her body becomes putty in my hands, I wrap my arms around her as much as possible, pulling her as close to me as I can. I want to feel all of her, surrounding me while I pour my essence deep into her. I want her to remember how I felt holding her, so tightly, while I shared every last piece of myself with her.
Once I’m finished, I gently set her back on her feet, pulling myself free from her blissful piece of heaven.
“It was worth the wait. But next time, I’m going to tie your hands up somewhere. Teach you to keep your claws to yourself unless I ask for them.”
“Next time, hmm?” She smiles. “You’re already planning?”
“Once is never enough with you, Victoria. It wasn’t the first time, and it isn’t this time. I want every piece of you.”
“Those are some strong words, Spartak.”
“You promised if it were meant to be, we’d see each other again. This is twice; I saw you last week at the art gala and now here.”
“Last week? You saw me?”
“Yes, you went into an alley and then I couldn’t find you after that.”
“But you didn’t see anything else?”
“What else was there? I followed you and then waited around. The only other people I saw were some rich ladies leaving. I must’ve missed you leaving out of the front entrance.”
“Oh yeah, the front.” She nods, her eyes glancing to the side.
She’s hiding something.
“What is it?”
“Huh?”
“You’re not telling me something.”
“I…uh…Oh, shit!” She finishes, surprised as the metal door’s wrenched open. She scurries to fix her clothes behind me as two angry Sicilian faces fill the open doorway.
One is a man that was sitting next to her; not the one I thought was her husband, but another. The second man is the goon that was sent to follow her.
The one that resembles her father, orders, “Tia! Oi, get out here now. Your papa will be furious when he hears of this!”
“Please, Uncle Leo, no!” She pleads behind me to no use. He reaches past me, snatching her arm to yank her out. He starts to pull her with him as she shoves against him, begging to let her go.
“I said now. You’re coming with me!” he responds crossly, saying something to her in their language. I try to reach for her, but the other goon’s in my face. I’m pushing against him to get to Victoria when the fucker head-butts me. It’s enough to daze me, and he takes full advantage of it, shoving me into the closet enough so he can shut the door.
Victoria’s gone, and no matter how much I throw my body against the door, it doesn’t budge.
Yelling, pounding, and kicking the door does absolutely nothing to help me out. The vent’s too small for me to crawl through. I had a cell when I came in here, but now patting my pockets, it seems to be gone. I can’t pick the lock because it’s not locked. I think there’s something wedged in front of the door keeping it closed.
Minutes pass; how many I’m unsure. If I’d have to guess, I’d say probably twelve before the door’s opened and a fresh burst of cool air pools in.
“What the hell happened to you?” Alexei’s serious gaze finds mine and my head pounds, reminding me of the next asshole I plan on killing.
“One of the Sicilians head-butted me and locked me in here.”
I expect yelling. What I don’t expect is him breaking into a grin and chuckling. It pisses me off more than any yelling would have, and I shove past him, out into the hallway.
Storming down the hall toward their seating area, Alexei follows, calling after me, “Where are you going?”
“I have to find them; they have something that belongs to me.”
“Wait, Spartak,” he orders, causing my feet to come to a stop.
“Yes?”
“They left already and quickly. I wondered if it had something to do with you since you’d been gone for a long time, so I came to check for you. Nikoli said you had t
he shits, but I knew it wasn’t like you not to give us an update after fifteen minutes.”
Patting my jacket pocket, I nod, “Yeah, my phone is lost.”
“All that happened with a head-butt?”
“No, there was more, but that was the gist of it.”
“Jesus. Let’s go finish watching the fight.”
“No, I need to speak with Viktor. I need his help.”
“With what?”
“I need him to find someone for me.”
“It was a stupid Sicilian; just let it go.”
“No, I’m not talking about him. I need to find a woman.”
“Who?”
“I’m not one hundred percent certain, but I think she’s Victoria Franchetti, and she belongs to me.”
“Shit, Spartak; he’s not going to like this.”
“I’ve lost her once, Alexei; I can’t handle it happening again.”
“All right then, let’s see what we can do.”
-I hate leaving it like this, but Spartak will return soon, and you’ll find out more about his story! I hope you enjoyed Corrupted Revelations and you can find out more about these sexy Russians in my Russkaya Mafiya series. XO, Sapphire Knight
The Main Event
Ground and Pound Series
1.
Aria
The crowd cheers, chanting that they want more as the band finishes up their song. They’re all so loud that we can hear them in Gav’s waiting area. I’m still in awe that the MGM got Godskank to open for the fight. It’s New Year’s Eve and a title fight above all things, so I guess they’re in it for the exposure and some premium event seating.
My man’s here to claim the heavyweight belt, and to honor him, In This Moment has shown up to play his fight song. Gavin was speechless and adorable when the event coordinator called, informing him that the band had contacted MGM wanting to show their support for Gavin ‘The Ripper’ Jones.
Word obviously travels fast when you’re an up-and-coming fighter, for them to know ‘Adrenalize’ is what he likes to walk out to. The proceeds tonight are supposed to be donated to a charity called VETSports to help our veterans. Gavin’s father is retired Army, so, of course, my Sugar was all over the chance to help our disabled vets.
Since they’re avid UFC fans, the venue decided to capitalize on the whole idea of the band playing by inviting Godskank to perform. Then the MGM went a step further, inviting Sick Yuppies to perform for Gav’s opponent, Johnny ‘The Bone Crusher’ Rodriguez.
He’s a total jerk off, and I know I’m supposed to be calm to keep Gavin grounded, but I can’t wait to see him take Bone Crusher down a notch—or seven. He damn sure doesn’t deserve a band like Sick Yuppies to be playing for him.
This place is a madhouse with all the music and adrenaline pumping through the crowd. I don’t know how the guys do it, fighting under so much pressure like this. These people could easily become an angry mob if enough of them got pissed over their guy not winning. Thankfully, I won’t be left alone sitting ringside.
The last time we were here was for Gavin’s spar partner/best friend Jace’s fight. I can’t believe that was two years ago; it doesn’t seem that long ago. Jace had to fight eight fights or some crazy number within a few months’ time before they’d let him challenge for the middleweight belt. The UFC loves their events and drama; that’s for sure.
I remember it was one hell of a fight too; Gavin and I were here cheering him on. Jace ended up beating his opponent and has held onto that championship belt with a death grip. No one’s come close to taking it away, and the UFC is getting restless because of it. Fans don’t like champs to remain idol in a spot for too long; they like to see them struggle to keep a hold on it.
The whole thing is doing nothing but stressing out Chyna, his wife, and my best friend, to the point of putting her in the hospital. Jace hasn’t lost yet, but I’m guessing he will—and soon—if Chyna doesn’t get a better grip on her emotions.
The famous chant begins, drawing me from my concerns of Chyna’s health. You’d think we were the next band playing with the way Gav’s fans act. I swear his are the loudest I’ve ever heard before and we’ve been to a lot of fights.
People love a fighter coming for his first belt, especially one who’s brother is a college football star and father is retired military. The press can’t seem to get enough of him and his family at this point.
Thank God they’ve refrained from broadcasting about his mother’s suicide. That’d bring out an entirely different type of animal from Gav.
The foot stomping begins, and Sin’s face lights up. The features on the trainer’s face relax as a cocky smirk overtakes his mouth.
“Sounds like showtime,” Sin announces in his gravelly voice, nodding toward the door.
“I’m ready,” Gavin replies and Sin’s smile grows.
“Fuck yeah, you are! Do the work, take the belt.”
Jace stands, agreeing with them both. “This is your fight, man. Make him come to you.”
“I’ll stick to the plan. I need a minute with my Boo.”
Sin starts to agree, but stops short, his eyebrow lifting as he hesitates. “We have to get out there.”
“And I will; but first, my Boo.”
With a sigh, Sin opens the heavy metal door, holding it so Jace can follow him out into the hallway. The door slams closed and the room’s immediately blanketed in silence. Not an uncomfortable type, just both of us choked up with nerves and adrenaline.
His feet shuffle toward me until he’s directly in front of me, his big brown puppy dog eyes staring down into mine.
“I won’t do this if you don’t want me to; just say the word.” It comes out nearly a whisper—a gruff one—but my favorite way to hear him speak to me. It sounds like what you’d expect sinful sex to sound like if it had a voice.
“Oh no, Sugar. You’ve earned this. All the training, everything we’ve been through because of this sport and other things.” I leave out the mention of his brother’s unhealthy intentions toward me for so long. God that was an awful fight in itself, but it doesn’t matter now. We’re past it; we’re stronger and love each other with everything we are.
His shoulders visibly relax, showing me that he’s more stressed out then he’s been letting on lately.
“Gav, you hear them?” I point up where above us are rows upon rows of eager fans, waiting for him to come out and rip someone up.
He nods, licking his lips. “But they don’t come home to me every night; you do. Your opinion matters above anyone else’s, you know that.”
“Yep, you’re right, I do. And me, them.” I point again. “Sin, Jace—all of us—we believe in you. We’re here to watch you finally get what you’ve trained so hard for.”
There’s pounding on the thick door. I’m assuming it’s Sin, telling us to hurry up with our heart-to-heart. He’s probably freaking out, thinking we’re having a quickie or something. He can relax; I know the rules about fighters not being able to have any sexual stimulation before events. I wouldn’t break them now anyhow; I want my man to have as much testosterone as possible. I want him to win and have any advantage he can over his opponent. I’ve seen Bone Crusher fight, a million times it seems, and he’s no joke. He may be a dickhead, but he’s one mean motherfucker.
“Coming!” Gavin shouts so the door pounding stops.
“I love you.” Perching up on my tiptoes, my lips barely meet his chin. All five foot nothing of me could probably stand on a couch and barely come eye to eye with him.
His gaze changes from milk chocolate to a swirling dark chocolate and next thing I know, his large palms are under my thighs, lifting me up. My legs wrap around his waist automatically, having practiced over the years to know where he likes them.
His nose brushes mine before his lips meet my own, his tongue plunging into my mouth. I can feel his hardness against the inside of my thigh. He’s damn sure been missing me if it’s any indication of what else he’s been thinking.
<
br /> His kiss is rough, full of pent-up energy and aggression. If we were to fuck right now, I know it would hurt in the most delicious way possible. It’d be one of the times where you wake up the next morning and find your thighs are peppered with bruises. I like to think of them as little reminders to what was damn sure a good night.
His mouth wrenches away, both of us left panting in its wake.
“Fuck! I have to stop, Aria, or so help me, we won’t make it to the fight. It’s been too long; once won’t be enough to satiate me.”
Promises, promises. I love the way this man thinks.
“Save that thought. Let’s get this over with so we can hurry up and get to the good part.”
His answering smirk is all I need to know that he’s right there with me in agreement with those thoughts. Sliding down his cut muscles, my feet hit the ground. He patiently waits, watching me with amusement as I shimmy around in my dress, making myself appear appropriate again. Then he tucks my petite hand into his bigger paw-like grip, always holding onto me somewhere and alert, ready to protect me if needed.
Just before we head through the door into the madness, he finally replies to my earlier proclamation, “Love you, too, Boo.”
The hallway’s even louder than the waiting rooms. I know it’s barely a snippet to the real craziness iwe’re about to face.
Jace lifts his hood from his hoodie, placing it over his head and starts his breathing exercises. No one would ever guess this big man—who’s a major badass—would suffer from anxiety. For him, it’s a silent disease he struggles with. He doesn’t let anyone know or help him with it; he endures it alone.
At least he did until we got serious and I made it my mission to try to find ways to help him. Hence the breathing exercises. I started reading up on anxiety disorders and things people do to help them get through stressful situations and came upon some different options.
Through fighting with Gav about trying them out, and then trial and error once he finally relented, we’ve learned that breathing certain patterns helps him stay focused the most. And sex. It calms him completely down, but that’s not on the table right before fights.
Tease Page 9