by Miranda Kavi
And fuck, his own men were turning against him because of Sophia.
Acid burned a hole in his stomach, and he realized he needed breakfast and probably medicine.
But first, he needed to take control.
He stood.
“Fuck them all. We shall do what we want. Go ahead and screw Naomi to your heart’s content. Marry her. Whatever. She is yours.” He threw his shoulders back. “You are my brother, you shall have what you want, and nobody will say anything about it.”
Gram smiled. “I like this Dmitri. What about you? Sophia?”
“Sophia is my woman. If anyone says anything against her, they will die. That is all. This is my fucking organization. I will do whatever pleases me, and I will answer to no one,” he said darkly. “Your job is to make sure that is very fucking clear.”
“Yes, sir.” Gram frowned. “And Hitoshi?”
“He will get over it, and if he does not, we will simply take what he will not give.”
Gram’s eyebrows lifted. “Whatever you say, brother. I think we may be in for a ride.”
“So be it.” Dmitri stood and pulled on his jacket.
He’d been a stone cold businessman for years. No women. Occasional fucks, yes, but not the comfort of a stable relationship.
He’d given up what most men, even weak, pathetic men got: a woman; children; family; love.
He hadn’t cared that much, happy with his homes, luxury goods, money, and occasional pussy.
Until Sophia. Then he saw something he wanted. And what he wants, he got.
“Let us go. We have a meeting.”
Gram nodded.
“Sophia will go with me everywhere. She will be visible to everyone, the men and the world. She is my woman. No more hiding.”
“Are you sure… It might be better if—”
“No,” Dmitri said. “She is my woman.”
“All right, brother.”
Chapter 13
SOPHIA
Naomi was quiet; she didn’t speak much. They ate their breakfast together in her room, offering small talk on the weather and St. Petersburg.
Naomi sipped her orange juice and watched Sophia. Sophia saw intelligence blazing in her pretty eyes. The slight woman made her uneasy. She seemed shy and sweet, but it was a mask. Sophia had a feeling that behind that mask was a very powerful soul. She wondered if Gram saw it or if he was too focused on the sweetness, the mind-numbing beauty, her lithe body.
Naomi cleared her throat. “Dmitri has been kind to me.”
“I am glad,” Sophia said.
“He seems to be very in love with you.”
Sophia only smiled. She wasn’t ready to share her private thoughts with Naomi. Dmitri was precious to her; he wasn't to be shared and gossiped about like some high-school boyfriend to a strange woman she didn’t trust.
The door beeped and Gram came in. Naomi smiled brightly. “You’re back.”
Gram spared a tight smile for her. Definitely like his brother. “Sophia, Dmitri is asking for you.”
She slid out of her chair. “Thank you for breakfast.”
She left the room, leaving Gram and Naomi staring at each other in the small space.
Dmitri was waiting with the door open. She stepped inside the room, and he shut the door. She was ready to throw herself at him, but something in the look on his face stopped her.
“I need to ask something of you,” he said in a low voice.
“Okay.” She stood in front of him.
“You are with me, now?” He rested his hands loosely on her shoulders.
“Yes,” she answered. “I’m yours.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “If you will consent, I have decided not to hide you. I would like you to openly be my woman. Stand by my side. Come with me to meetings.”
His eyes were so serious. “Um...okay. Sure,” she mumbled. She guessed he wasn’t talking about fun, social dinners. But she'd do anything for him.
He dropped his hands and grabbed her hand with his, planting a kiss on her palm. “Lyubimaya, do you mean it? You will openly be mine? I am asking you for a heavy thing.”
She understood, or at least, she thought she understood what it would mean, to openly be his woman. It could have far reaching implications, many of which she couldn’t possibly understand. But she needed him like oxygen. She’d already abandoned her life. She had nothing to lose, except him. “It would be my honor, Mr. Davydov,” she said.
“Stop it,” he growled. He pulled her close, gripping both sides of her face. “You honor me, Sophia. You honor me by being in my presence. You honor me as my woman. You honor me in so many ways.” He pressed his lips to hers, making her heart skip a beat.
He pulled away and smoothed her hair. “We need to meet with Mr. Tariq. Can you change into more suitable attire?” He stood back and skimmed her outfit. “Something more serious. A suit, perhaps?” He smiled. “We are a power couple now and must dress accordingly.”
“Yes, but all my things are at Tatiana’s. We’ll have to go there first.”
“Who?” Dmitri said.
***
Tatiana answered the door in artfully ripped black jeans, a low cut raspberry pink shirt, and delicate bare feet with black nail polish. Her hair cascaded in platinum curls to her waist, her make-up perfectly applied with matching lip gloss, a cigarette hanging loosely in her mouth.
“Sophia!” she squealed. She transferred the cigarette to her hand and pulled Sophia into a tight hug. After cutting off Sophia’s oxygen supply with her enthusiasm, she stepped back and scanned her face. “Is everything okay? I thought you were gone, suka.”
“No, everything is fine,” Sophia said.
Tatiana’s eyes landed on Dmitri, standing back a couple feet, hands clasped formally in front of him. “Who the fuck are you?” she said.
“Dmitri,” he said.
“Oh, this is fucking Dmitri?” she said. “I thought he was with another girl? What is this!” She held out her hands, the cigarette still burning.
“It was a big misunderstanding. May we come in?” Sophia said.
She cocked her head sideways at Dmitri. “You may come in. And I guess him.”
Dmitri sighed, and Sophia could feel his annoyance growing. But that was Tatiana’s way: annoy the shit out of you and somehow grow on you at the same time.
She stepped inside Tatiana’s cluttered apartment. Dmitri stood uneasily near the door, seemingly baffled by the piles of clothes and shoes everywhere.
“Where is Ivan?”
“Out of town,” Tatiana said in Russian. She stubbed out her cigarette. “Now tell how this cheater is here with you?”
Dmitri focused his ice cold gaze on Tatiana, but didn’t answer.
“He was pretending to protect someone. As soon as he found out I was in Russia, he came to find me.”
“Romantic,” Tatiana muttered. She pointed at Dmitri. “I don’t care if you are big arms dealer, if you fuck with Sophia, I will hurt you.”
“As you should,” Dmitri answered.
Tatiana smiled broadly. “We have a lot to catch up on, Sophia.”
“I can’t stay long,” Sophia said, grabbing her arm. “We’re late for a meeting. I was hoping to get some clothes.”
Tatiana laughed. “You’ve come to right place.”
“Please, sit down if you would like.” She pointed at the couch. Dmitri sat with a sideways glance at Sophia. “We won’t be long.”
Twenty minutes later, Sophia was in a tight pencil skirt with a low cut black blouse, a petite blazer, and black stilettos, all handpicked by Tatiana’s discerning eye.
She walked out of the room and paraded in front of Dmitri.
Tatiana followed her. “How did I do? Does she look like a gunrunner’s girlfriend, or what?”
“She looks like my extremely attractive and curvaceous business partner. Even better.” Dmitri cracked a hint of a smile.
“I’ll come back soon to pick up my clothes. I’m sorry I left them
all here,” Sophia said.
Tatiana shrugged. “This is your home. Leave whatever here. No rush.”
She leaned against the doorway, watching them with narrowed eyes as they left, lighting a new cigarette from her seemingly never ending supply.
Sophia followed Dmitri out to the car. In the trim black suit, she felt sexy and powerful. Particularly when she was on the arm of a man like Dmitri.
They stepped into the car and drove to the restaurant tucked in the hotel lobby. She sighed when they pulled up. “This is where I was staying,” she told Dmitri.
“I know. It is a big fuck you from him to me. Let us see what he has to say.”
She nodded. She was nervous as hell about meeting Tariq again. So much had changed in such a short time. “What should I do? Follow your lead? Stay quiet?”
He looked her over from her heel clad feet to her tight blouse. “You are my woman. You shall speak whenever you want.”
He stepped out of the car and waited outside the door for her, hand extended. Gram slid out of the backseat and disappeared into the crowd walking along the sidewalks.
They entered the dark, candlelit restaurant. A baby grand in the corner was occupied by a suited musician, filling the air with “Moonlight Sonata”. Tariq was waiting for them at a dark table in the back of the restaurant. He was alone, or at least he appeared to be alone.
Sophia had no doubt that his associates were melded into the crowd, as were Dmitri’s. So many games.
They sat down across from him. His face registered shock when his eyes rested on Sophia, but he recovered quickly. He was smooth, but not as smooth as her Dmitri.
He addressed Sophia first. “Nice to see you again, Sophia. You look lovely,” he said.
Dmitri was as solid as a stone beside her, betraying no emotion. Her female HR nice person reaction would be to return the pleasantry, but it seemed so wrong, so she dipped her chin in response.
“What do you want?” Dmitri said.
Tariq smiled, running his finger around the rim of his glass, most likely scotch or bourbon judging by the golden brown color of the liquid inside. “The question is, what do you want, Dmitri?”
He leaned back, pressing his hands together, resting his chin on his fingers. It was a cocky, relaxed stance; a stupid one to take around Dmitri. “You see, you have a problem. A very big problem.”
Dmitri remained expressionless. “Continue.”
Tariq looked disappointed. “Your…reunion with the lovely Sophia has turned some very powerful men against you. They were already unsure about you, but now they are mad.”
“I remain unconcerned. Is there anything else?” Dmitri said.
Tariq sneered. “So arrogant. I have built a little army. I say the word, and your little empire will start to crumble.” He smiled. “I say a different word, and your enemies become your best friends.” He shook his glass, rattling his ice cubes. “You have been weakened. I’m ready to move in for the kill. So I offer you this, instead. A partnership.”
Sophia glanced back at Dmitri, still impassive in his seat.
“No,” Dmitri said. “You offer me nothing. Now, if you will excuse us.”
He started to leave his seat. “Wait!” Tariq said. Some of his cockiness flew out of him. “Wait. You owe me money,” he said, addressing Dmitri.
“No, I owe you money,” Sophia said. “I will pay you the remaining balance and then we are done.”
Dmitri nodded his approval. “Like the lady says.”
He scooted towards the edge of the booth and stood. Sophia stood next to him.
“Sophia,” Tariq said. “You can do better. Remember what he did to you. I would never do that to you.”
She didn’t hide her shock at his bold words, nor did Dmitri. His jaw clenched tight, and his hands balled into fists.
“Go fuck yourself,” she said.
“Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me? Because it sure seemed like you wanted to just a short time ago,” he sneered.
Dmitri bent over so he was eye level with the still seated Tariq. Tariq’s eyes darted around, no doubt looking for his guards. “You will regret insulting Sophia. You will not ever speak of her in such a lewd manner again.” He put his hand on the table, only inches in front of Tariq. “Remember this moment.”
He straightened, offered Sophia his arm, and they left the restaurant. Her lips trembled as she pushed back the emotions. He’d stood up for her, unquestioningly. It had been a long time since she’d been loved like that.
They got into the waiting car, Gram sliding in a few minutes later. Once he was inside, the car sped off in the direction of their hotel.
Dmitri was silent, sharing looks with Gram, but nobody spoke. She wasn’t sure if she performed well or if he was angry. She’d have to wait to find out.
They were back at their hotel soon, parking the car in the attached garage. Gram moved off with his cell phone pressed to his ear while Dmitri and Sophia made their way to the elevator bank.
They’d moved into another room at the same hotel. Dmitri never slept in the same hotel room more than one night in a row.
They got off on a different floor and entered their new room, still silent as they made their way inside.
As soon as the door closed, she grabbed his arm. “Dmitri, I’m so sorry if—”
He shoved her on the bed and kissed her aggressively. His hands worked at her bobby pins, sending her neat bun into loose waves. Her body responded like always, arching her back, leaning into him, offering herself any way she could.
He abruptly pulled back and stood.
“I am going to fuck you now,” he said. He yanked off her blazer and tossed it behind them.
“Good,” she said. “I want you.”
“Stand up,” he said.
She did.
“I like watching you walk around in a suit, knowing I can take it off whenever I want. I like how you talked to him, like he was a piece of shit under your shoe. And I liked the way you looked at me, Sophia.”
“Dmitri, I—”
“Turn around,” he said.
She did. He unzipped her skirt and pushed it down to her ankles. Her underwear came next. He tapped her shoes and then stood behind her, so close his breath moved the baby hairs on her neck. “Leave those, please,” he whispered in her ear. His breath on the sensitive skin of her ear set her body ablaze.
He spun her around again, pulling off her blouse then her bra, until she was naked in front of him. He flicked his tongue across his front teeth. “So fucking delectable. I do not know if I want to suck your clit or your tits first.”
She took a deep, shaky breath. His arousal was sexually empowering for her. She already was clenched up in anticipation for whatever he did, because he did everything very well.
“What about you?”
“No,” he said. “My pleasure is your pleasure.” He lifted her and set her down on the desk in the far corner of hotel room. “Spread your legs.”
She did. He crouched in front of her, still fully dressed. He lowered himself to her core and flicked her nub with his tongue, over and over until she was writhing. “Dmitri,” she whimpered.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
“I want you inside me,” she said.
“Not yet.” He put his mouth over her clit and sucked gently, sending her closer and closer to orgasm.
“Oh, my God,” she said.
He lifted his head and then slid two fingers inside her, massaging the sensitive patch of nerves. She moved against him, almost involuntarily.
“Please,” she said.
“Please what?”
“Please give me what I want.”
He unbuttoned his pants and then dropped them. His cock was free and hard and ready for her. He plunged it deep into her, so deep it made her cry out. “Yes,” she said.
“Do you want me, Sophia?” he said.
“Yes. Only you.”
He rammed into her again. “Say it again.”
He needed her reassurance after Tariq. He needed her now, but didn’t know how to ask for it.
She grabbed his hands, forcing him to face her, tightening her legs around him. He looked up, surprised. “I love you, Dmitri. Only you. Now make love to me like only you can.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, Sophia.”
She leaned back on the desk, propping herself up with her elbows. He pumped with powerful but gentle strokes, hitting exactly where she needed him to, watching her, his hands caressing her legs.
He reached for her and pulled her up, lifting her off the desk, holding her against him with her legs wrapped around his waist. She clung to his shoulders, amazed at his strength while he gripped her ass and moved her up and down his shaft. She looked up at him, finding his green eyes locked on hers. “I love you, Sophia,” he said, so much passion in his voice, so much emotion in his eyes, more than she’d ever seen.
She’d reached him. She’d reached him when he needed her. She could do that for him, and nobody else could.
She sobbed and came at the same time, feeling the quivers through her body. He came too, filling her up with heat.
They collapsed on the floor together, overcome with the tornado of emotions and sex.
Chapter 14
The afternoon light was fading again, foretelling an end to the day that she wanted to go on forever. Dmitri had taken her to a little Parisian cafe tucked into the corner of an artsy neighborhood, tempting her with promises of world class crepes and coffee. He’d been right.
They were a perfect couple in a perfect place.
She wore a red dress and black boots. Red was his favorite color on her, and she wanted to please him. She’d succeeded because he’d been threatening to rip it off all day.
He wore an olive green sweater and black slacks, sitting across from her, watching her with his normal impassive facial expression. But his eyes were not impassive. His eyes danced and burned for her. Always.
They’d spent the past few days exploring the city. Usually alone, but a couple of times with Tatiana and Ivan.
They’d been eating in restaurants, visiting museums, often slipping into a hotel to make love. His appetite for her was insatiable. She wondered if years down the line he would still want her the way he wanted her now.