“This car is evil and unnatural.”
The argument is short and sweet as I pull out and start zipping, hopping, and all-out breaking the law through the midmorning traffic to make it to Mina’s lunch appointment on time.
We get there on the dot and exit the car with a regal air that the freaking valet sneers at as I pass him the keys.
“You scratch her, and this one,” I point at Liza and her curled lip, “she’ll end you.”
The hotel is…not my style. It’s gorgeous and elegant and totally classy.
“Shit, I hope we don’t get caught.”
“Stop being a baby, Tatty.”
“You, shut up. I like sex with Leo. He does this thing with his tongue on my ass—”
“No, no, no, no, no. TMI,” I plead, searching the dining room as people, snooty people, give us all sideways glances.
Should have probably foregone the green sneakers and hot pink “Team Golem” T-shirt.
“I was going to say ass cheeks. You people are pervs,” she chides when I spot the horn-covered head of the demon we’ve come to see.
“Come on. There she is.”
I’m suddenly filled to the brim with butterflies and second thoughts. Sure it feels good to be here and finally see this fink in person. I’ve been wanting to rip her head bald for a while now, but it dawns on me that this could be a rally bad idea. Especially when she suddenly turns—I knew she was a demon—and smiles at us, her face so gleeful that my balls would shrivel, if I had any.
“Don’t get scared. We’re here with you and we won’t let anything happen to you,” Liza vows, cracking her knuckles like a backstreets brawler.
“Yeah, we got you, Ri.”
“I brought gloves in case I need to hold her down while Liza slaps her around,” Nik says, making me giggle when she pulls on a pair of pristine white gloves and cracks her knuckles with a curl of her lip.
“I’ll do the hitting.”
“No offense, babe, but the only thing you know how to hit is the sack,” Nik jokes, rolling her neck when we reach the table where Mina and another woman are sitting, discussing…probably what sauce to use on the brimstone they eat.
“Irina, what a surprise.”
God, why is she so freaking pretty?
“Mina. We need to talk.”
Steady, Ri. Don’t go all mousy and quiet now, I warn myself when my voice trembles slightly and I feel bile rise in my throat.
It’s hard to look at this person, this completely gorgeous, stunning woman, and not feel intimidated by the past she shares with my Misha, even knowing that he despises her more than anything now.
My words have her tittering and I see her shrug delicately at her companion.
“We’ll get together again tomorrow, dahling. For now, I think it best that I speak to Irina alone. It cannot be easy to hear that her husband is cheating on her with strangers present.”
Okay, now I just want to slap her and call her a bully.
The woman smirks at me and sneers at my attire before gathering her purse and taking her bony ass off with glee that I wish Liza would beat off her face.
The staff here is like freaking magicians, and I sit right as three more chairs magically appear for the others.
“So, Irina, you are finally aware of the little meetings Misha and I have been having.”
“Meetings? You mean the ones where he sits here tolerating you like a case of herpes?” I ask sweetly, enjoying the way her smile slides right off her face. “Or perhaps the meetings where he has his security close by to stop him from wringing your neck?”
“He loves me. He wants to be with me.”
“Uh, excuse me, ladies, but I think I’m gonna leave if this is all that’s on the menu today,” Liza snarls, throwing Mina a look of loathing. “She’s so gross that I feel dirty just sitting across from her.”
Liza’s going to go fire up Delilah and keep her running when Mina bolts. We’ve got every avenue covered here, and even Angelica’s man, John, is in on the game.
“Go then. What do I care what you think, you little nobody? Misha is mine, Irina. He has been since we were young and he fell in love with me. He will never stop loving me. We shared a child, after all, and a love that you cannot comprehend.”
Oh, vomit. Seriously, the guy in the booth to the right is going at a lobster like he’s digging for clams and I’m feeling queasy.
“He knows you put out a hit on me along with my…with those people. He knows you’re behind it all, and guess what, Mina? He’s not going to leave you alone till your ass is nailed to the wall.”
My tone is all conversational and stuff, but inside I’m vibrating with the need to bolt and take another course. If this doesn’t work I will have effectively screwed everything up, and it’s so dire that I feel the weight of Misha’s anger already pressing down on me.
Mina’s eyes widen for the briefest second before she waves a pink-nailed hand my way.
“You cannot prove a thing.”
So confident. I wish I could slap that confidence off her smug face.
“Maybe not. Maybe Misha and Irina will never be able to prove that you’re nothing more than a lying, murderous asshole with too much Botox and enough lip filler to make you look like the ass face you are,” Tat says through gritted teeth. “But the least we can do for you today, little Miss Misery, is tell you that he loves her and his baby and he’ll never be yours. You won’t get to Irina, and you won’t ever win him back.”
I see the moment the truth hits her and I watch in horrified dismay, and no small amount of satisfaction, as her face blanches and she goes deathly pale.
“You, you are pregnant?”
“Yes. And so in love right now that not even the threat of another one of your henchmen coming after me can ruin it, Mina. Misha is so happy that he can hardly keep his hands off me. He wants me all the time. Everywhere. In fact, if you want a blow by blow, I could tell you about this morning and how much he loves shower sex.”
Not true. Misha prefers sex in bed.
Her shock is replaced by a look so vicious, I rear back slightly and feel myself quiver in what I know but refuse to admit is fear. Not fear for myself or even Misha, though Lord knows he’s on my mind as she starts huffing like the animal she is. No, I fear for my child as those hate-filled eyes go to my belly and she sneers.
“You think you are safe in that tower of yours, Irina? You think that Misha has enough power to keep you safe from me if I really wanted to get to you?! I can have you killed before the day is out. I came so close to ridding myself of you weeks ago, and I can succeed again. All it will take is one slip, Irina, just one day when you and that bastard think everything is okay and one of my men will be there for you.”
Oooookay. This cracker has most definitely lost her cheese.
“Oh come on. You sent that Knife guy after me and look where it got you. You’re one assassin short and a few grand poorer for your efforts. Face it, Mina, you’ve lost. Oh and by the way…”
Wait for it…
“I don’t appreciate you getting some fake little Minka to call my home and pretend to want her daddy. That’s just cruel, even for a snake dick like you, and you know it. I’m just glad I answered the phone and that it wasn’t Misha, because it would have killed him to think that Minka is still alive when we all know it’s not true. Nice try, though.”
Mina pales and I watch her swallow as her eyes start darting and fear grips her.
Nik looks triumphant. Okay, she’s got no expression, which is usual for her, but I can feel her satisfaction and the mental high five she’s tossing my way.
“I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”
“You don’t? You mean it wasn’t you who got a little girl to call my house and pretend to be the dead Minka? That’s weird. I could have sworn the only evil person who would do something that cruel is you. Silly me, I guess,” I say airily, giving her a hard look.
I practiced in the mirror for like an hour, and from Nik’s
thumbs-up, I nailed it.
“Stay away from my husband, Mina, or I swear to you I will go to my father and there will be nowhere you can hide where his people would not find you. Leave him in peace. He deserves some happiness after the shit you put him through.”
“Happiness? You think he deserves happiness after what I suffered when my father discovered that I was fucking the son of his enemy? I will never let him go, Irina, and I will never allow him happiness after what he put me through.”
“He proposed to you.”
She laughs, a high-pitched ugly sound that makes my spine tingle, and looks at me like I lost my marbles on the playground years ago.
“Proposed. As if I could marry a common laborer when he was meant for so much more. He was supposed to take over from his father and rule the families, you little fool. He didn’t have two pennies to his name when he tried to give me that little chip he called a diamond. As if I would marry him and live in poverty.”
“Poverty? Lady, the guy is a billionaire in his own right, and he makes more money every day just by breathing. You must be completely nuts if you didn’t see all that potential in him. Your loss, my gain. Thanks so much for being a total twat and leaving him for a real woman. I owe ya big,” I say, rising to my feet on shaky knees that somehow manage to hold my weight despite the weakness I’m feeling.
This woman is pure evil, and I will forever be grateful to the powers that be if this plan works.
I don’t know for certain that the little one is alive, and I don’t know if what we’re doing here will work, but I do know that I’ve done something today. All I can do now is pray that it gets me a good result.
Misha needs closure on this, and I need Mina gone.
Chapter Seven
Irina
The feel of his lips skating over the sensitive skin beneath my arm is so amazing that I feel my sex clench and vibrate as wet, aroused heat slides free and coats my thighs.
Misha has been at me for what feels like hours and I’m half crazed with the need to beg for the release he’s withholding.
He swept me up the moment he walked in the door tonight and sent poor Feliks screaming and muttering when he grabbed my ass and started kissing me like my lips were a drug he’d been jonesing for all day.
I needed him just as much after an entire day spent biting my nails beside the phone, waiting for John and Liza to call. The wait is killing me and I feel some guilt, but right now, with his mouth licking and sucking at my sweat-slicked skin, all I feel is need and the overwhelming love that he’s brought out in me.
“Misha.”
“Hush, angel. Let me pleasure you, my love,” he drawls into the furled flesh around my nipple, his tongue peeking out to flick slowly at the tortured tip.
I feel the caress all the way to my sex and clench my outstretched and bound thighs in an attempt to relieve the deep ache building there. Misha is a master at this, at the slow buildup, and I love it as much as I hate it, knowing that he’ll toy with me and drive me near desperation before sending me into a screaming, toe-curling climax.
Right now, he has decided to lick and suck my breasts with leisure and it’s almost too much as he gently bites into the white flesh around my nipple and then into the pink point with enough force to make my need even greater.
“Hmm, angel. Your breasts are so sensitive, it makes my dick hard just thinking I could suck you to orgasm. Can you feel my mouth on your clit right now, angel? Do you feel me sucking that juicy little pearl even as I lick at your nipple?”
He goes back to tonguing me, biting and sucking with enough force, I feel it right there where he wants me to. The sensations are hot and consuming, and I feel my sex quiver and tremble in impending release. He licks me so thoroughly, my breasts are slick with his saliva before he rears up and grins wickedly.
“Misha,” I moan, protesting his abandonment, so ready to beg now that I’d say anything—any dirty, wicked thing he wanted me to—if only he’d satisfy the burn between my wet thighs.
So close, I was so close.
“Uh-uh, angel. Remember what I told you this morning?”
Oh sweet Lord, do I. The man has a nasty habit of outlining in detail what he wants to do to me while we shower and get ready for work.
This morning’s torture session involved his shaft and my swelling breasts, and the thought of having Misha jack himself off with my boobs is so hot that I mewl and thrust my chest closer to the hard shaft poking out from his groin.
“You want me there, sliding my dick through your soft tits?”
“Yes. Please. Let me touch you.”
“Nyet, angel. I’m so close to coming already, I’d blow like an untried youth if you breathed on my cock right now,” he hisses, gently crawling over me, his weight kept off my body as he comes up on his knees and presses my breasts together, his snarl of arousal sending another shaft of heat to my sheath.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, letting him do this to me. I always thought of sex as this soft, loving thing that’s an expression of sharing and all that mushy stuff, but Misha has shown me a whole other side to it that is dark and wicked but so good, I don’t think I could do straight vanilla again if I tried.
He’s shown me pleasure unlike anything I could have imagined, and made my body into a work of art that he appreciates every second of the day.
As he pushes closer and slides his hot, throbbing length between my breasts, I let out a keening cry of satisfaction and keep my eyes on where we meet, my arousal spiking even more when he slowly slides back and thrusts forward again, pinching my nipples to the point of pleasurable pain.
The pleasure on his face is enchanting, captivating, and I relish this moment and every one I’ve stored in my memory. Each one is a moment in time where he’s taken his pleasure and surrendered himself to me in some small way.
He looks lost in the bliss as he starts thrusting and retreating between the globes pressed around his shaft, his mouth going slack when I lick my lips and eye his erection with a hunger that’s unmistakable.
“You want to taste me, my angel?” he purrs, twisting to hit my nipples as he pushes back in, the very head of his dick poking up through my mashed breasts.
I do. I want the feel and taste of him on my tongue. I want him inside me everywhere, owning me, taking every inch as the pleasure I know is coming takes hold.
I love his scent, that masculine woodsy smell that’s cut with the clean sweat he gives off during sex. I love the feel of his strong, hard body surrounding me. I love the taste of his ravishing mouth and the salty tang of his cum when he has enough control to let me pleasure him and swallow his release.
It’s all mine and so uniquely him that I crave it all.
“Please. Please let me suck you,” I plead, my tongue already extending for the small drop of pre-cum oozing from the narrow slit crowning his dick.
He obliges with a groan and I moan as I swipe at him, swirling the tip of my tongue against the little slit, searching for more of that salty goodness.
“Oh yes, baby. Suck me a little and drink it down, Irina. Harder, baby. Right there. You taste me. Fuck yes, use your teeth some more. Shit, Christ, stop.”
He pulls away just as I start a sucking rhythm and bob my head to take him deeper, his body coated in sweat as he lowers himself between my spread thighs—body trembling, eyes closed, and teeth gritted as he fights not to come.
“That mouth is wicked. So fucking good, I could come with one lick.”
It’s my chance to moan as he swipes a hand through my slit and brings it up to his lips, his groan of appreciation loud in the room as he sucks my juices off his fingers and pushes into me gently.
The fullness is so welcoming, I feel my sheath tremble in warning, my orgasm so close.
I want this to last forever.
“You’re always so warm here, Irina, so wet that I glide right in. You liked my taste, baby?”
My nod is the only answer I can give when the pleasure increas
es and pulls at my womb in a series of tiny contractions.
“You know what you taste like here?” he snarls, punctuating the question with a hard thrust that has my eyes rolling back. “You taste musky, tangy, and yet so sweet I could eat you out for hours and not be satisfied. I want to suck your little clit till it throbs on my tongue and swells to the point of explosion.”
“Oh, yes.”
His pelvis is shuttling quickly, then slows down to lazy grinds, each one hitting my aching clit, sending me that much closer to bliss. The words are what get me, because in that husky, achingly rough growl I hear devotion and adoration for everything that I am.
That feeling is arousing to the point of climax, and I revel in each soft growl while my husband pushes into me like the master he is.
“I love your taste, angel. I want to get so deep in you, sometimes I think I could drown to death in your cream and die happy. Fuck,” he snarls when the orgasm hits and I clamp down hard enough that he can’t move another inch.
The explosion is hard and consuming, and I feel it take me over, steal my senses as my sheath goes molten and starts sucking at him in long, pulling draws.
The sensation makes my pleasure soar higher and I come again when he growls, tenses above me, and roars his own release—the thick, hot explosion of his own orgasm filling me.
“I love you, Misha. Don’t ever doubt that,” I whisper into his neck when he pulls away minutes later and pulls me into his arms, my back pressed to his shaking, sweaty chest.
“I love you. Never doubt that, angel.”
I know he does, and it’s all that’s keeping me going right now as I wait in guilty silence for that call.
Chapter Eight
Misha
Waiting has never been my forte. I’m patient only insofar as the situation requires, but otherwise I’m the instant gratification sort of man. When I see something I want I usually take it.
Right now, though, patience is required and it’s killing me slowly.
I know that Irina and her little band of misfits snuck out of that exit into the alley and went to see Mina. I knew the moment she brought it up, and I watched the live camera feed in the kitchen as her and the little terrors hatched their plot, their voices hushed and barely audible over the sound of the faucet.
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