I open my mouth and my father lifts his hand and waves me away as if I have already taken up too much of his time.
‘By the way, don’t imagine that I do not know about your visits to that bitch. Tell your grandmother if she throws the rope ladder for you again to go visit her, I’ll send her back to Russia with only the clothes on her back.’
My jaw drops with shock. Would Papa really do that to his own mother? Impossible. Yet, I feel chilled to the bone. My mother was right. How could I have been so oblivious to the fact that the man who provides everything for me and protects me day and night is completely heartless.
There is no point in even trying to talk to him. He loves no one. He can’t. He is unable to. He is like the spoon or the table.
Like that he feels nothing.
Twenty-seven
Tasha Evanoff
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVjsGKrE6E8
Summertime Sadness
‘Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?’
-Tasha Evanoff
I dress in red. My mother says blondes should always dress in red when they want to be sexy. I stand in front of the mirror but I don’t look sexy. I look pale and washed out. Blusher. More blusher. That’s what I need. I pick up the blusher brush and dust color on the apple of my cheeks.
And what of your eyes? What can be done with sadness in them?
I turn away from the mirror.
I bend down and kiss Sergei. ‘This is my last time so no guilt trips from you, you hear?’ I tell him.
He whimpers and I pull him into my arms for a hug. He remains very still and when I pull away he cries.
‘Be a good boy and wait for me, okay?’
I stand and he stands too. To my surprise he barks at me.
‘Shhh … no barking. Everybody is sleeping,’ I say, quickly getting back down on the floor and hugging him tightly once again. I understand why he is like this. He is picking up on my distress.
‘It’s okay,’ I coax. ‘I’m fine. I will be fine. This feeling will pass. Everything can be forgotten. I’ll be back in the morning and we’ll go walkies in the park. Be a good boy for mummy, okay?’
I give him a treat, but he refuses to eat it.
‘I’ll just leave it here, and you eat it later when you feel like it, hmmm?’
I kiss him again and walk to the door, but he follows and whimpers pitifully and cries as if I have physically hurt him when I close the door. I stand for a moment hearing him scratching at the wood and feeling terrible, then knowing that there is nothing I can do about it, I take my shoes off and go down the stairs.
The house is so quiet I can hear my heart hammering in my chest. I was never risking anything except my father’s displeasure before. If discovered, what I am doing now is dangerous to all the people I love most. I always thought my father loved me in his own way, but now I know. I am just a pawn in his game. I have no value to him beyond opening a door to the most esteemed echelons of society.
Fortunately, the nervousness and that sinking feeling that everything is going to go wrong doesn’t translate into anything bad. I scale the wall easily in my red dress, the taxi is waiting at the end of the road, and before I know it I am standing outside Noah’s door. I ring it and he opens it.
Even though I am smiling at him, he takes one look at my face and asks, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Now that I’m here, nothing. Absolutely nothing,’ I lie.
He pulls me in as his eyes roam my body. ‘You look fabulous,’ he murmurs, nuzzling my neck. There is music in the background. When A Man Loves A Woman is playing.
I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to be sad. I just want to hide in a dance and a smile. ‘Will you dance with me?’ I whisper. A last dance. To forget my great misery.
He lifts his head and smiles softly. ‘Does the pope pray?’
I smile as he tightens his arms around me and we move slowly in time to the music. I bury my face in his neck and inhale the lovely male scent of him.
‘Sergei didn’t want me to come tonight,’ I whisper.
He pulls a little away to look at me. ‘Why not?’
I don’t know for sure.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I going to have to use my secret method of extracting information,’ he teases, even though his eyes are actually very serious.
‘You’re going to have to use the secret method,’ I tell him.
‘Right. You asked for it.’
He picks me up and carries me to the bedroom.
I laugh while my heart cries, don’t leave me.
He puts me on the bed and looks down at me. His eyes are dark and hungry. ‘God, you’re so beautiful, Tasha,’ he says, his exhaled breath almost a hiss.
‘I don’t want you to use a condom. I want to feel you come inside me. I want you to fill me with cum.’
He narrows his eyes. ‘Are you protected?’
I shake my head.
‘But—’
I grasp his hand urgently. ‘It’s what I want.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’
Very gently he removes my dress and my underwear. Then he begins to kiss every nook and cranny of my body. Every inch, every tip, every swollen bit of flesh, every wet thing, until my body feels as soft as warm butter, and I feel as if I have no will of my own. I feel the heat seep into my pussy as if I’ve been sitting with my legs open for a long time in the sun.
‘How do you feel?’ he asks.
‘Mmmm.’ I can’t speak. My sex-hazed mind can’t even think. I let out a small moan as I feel the thick head of his cock enter me. My muscles wrap around it eagerly.
‘How does this feel?’ I ask, squeezing his shaft.
‘Tight, hot, and wet.’ He pushes all the way in.
‘Fuck,’ we both say in unison.
‘I love watching my cock disappear into you,’ he growls as he jams into me hard.
‘Don’t let me go, Noah.’ The words in my heart slip out of my mouth.
He stops moving. We stare at each other. ‘Understand something, Tasha. I will never give up on you or let you go, no matter how hard it gets. You are my woman. I will cover your body with my death if I have to.’
And just like that the tears begin to flow out of my eyes.
‘Tasha, what’s the matter?’
I shake my head. ‘Don’t stop.’
He looks down at me worriedly. ‘Are you all right?’
He tries to pull out of me, but I grab his hips. ‘No. Don’t stop. Please finish. Please make me come. Make it the most beautiful sex we’ve ever had.’
‘I can’t. Not when you’re crying …’
‘I’m fine. Honestly. Please. For me.’ The tears run freely down my temples as I struggle to master my emotions.
He looks down at me, a strange expression on his face, then he plunges back into me, going as deeply as he can. I look at his face, contorted with passion and I memorize it. The day will come when these twilight hours when I have been so happy, will no longer fill me with grief. Then I will learn the art of being happy that I had them at all. For they are a gift. I will weather the winter and one day, April will come again.
Slowly, I become completely consumed with the intense feeling rushing through me that I notice even the littlest change in his face. I see he is ready to climax, but he can think only of making me come.
His thrusts become rougher and more forceful as he slides in and out of me. I see his breathing quicken, his nostrils flare, and the muscles of his neck and shoulders work as he pumps into me. His eyes stare into mine, wanting, needing me to come. He won’t let go until I do.
I feel the climax approaching as if from a long tunnel, almost, but not quite there. I realize it’s not going to come. Not when I’m in this mood.
‘Sorry. I don’t think I can come,’ I apologize.
‘There’s no rush. Just relax and let it come, Tasha.’
<
br /> All his muscles are tight. His control is barely leashed. ‘Don’t wait for me,’ I whisper.
‘You’re coming with me, or nobody is coming tonight,’ he says, his brow clinched together in concentration.
He bends his head and sucks my nipples causing a jolt of electrifying pleasure in my body. My brain becomes cloudy. My fingers clench into his shoulders. The jolts of sensation magnify in intensity. I groan and he increases the pace of his thrusts.
I wrap my legs around his hips and let go, come what may.
His movements become even harsher and faster.
The train starts hurtling towards me until it body slams into me and the strangest thing happens. For a moment I disappear. The moment is infinitesimally small, but its impact is massive. During that second I’m no longer me, an individual, or confined to my body. I dissolve into the unity of the all, knowing no limitation, infinite.
There it is, the true secret of sexual orgasm in its purest form.
Melting and becoming one with the trees, the stars, the sky, the rocks, the ocean, the man inside your body. It is merging. The sinner and the sage, the good into bad, night into day, death into life, and back again. That single moment without distinction is holier than spending years in a monastery or temple. It is that moment Baba spoke of when you enter a lake and meet your own soul.
Then the moment is over and I am just a woman underneath her man.
I look into his eyes and they are so … so very sad. I want to reach out a hand and touch his cheek. I want to tell him I love him, but I can do neither, my hands are immobilized, and my mouth will not move.
I look up at him from underneath drenched lashes. He seems very still, resting on his elbows, his breathing deep and heavy as he stares down at me.
Twenty-eight
Tasha Evanoff
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqIxCtEveG8
Beneath Your Beautiful
‘Have I hurt you?’ he asks softly.
I blink in amazement. ‘No,’ I whisper. ‘Of course not.’
‘Then tell me why you’re crying.’
‘I’m crying because everything has been just beautiful. I couldn’t have asked for more.’
He trails his fingertips down my cheek. ‘It will be all right. You’ll see. I’ll make it good for us.’
I want to burst into tears, but I don’t. I nod.
‘Will you trust me?’
I nod again.
‘I’ll sort it out. I promise.’
‘Okay. I need to go to the bathroom,’ I say.
He moves and I get up. I pick up my dress and underwear from the floor and go into the bathroom. I close the door and lean against it. I thought I was going to stay all night. I thought I could do it, but I can’t. My heart is breaking. I can’t stay here a moment longer. My legs give way and my body slides down to the floor.
‘Tasha,’ Noah calls from outside.
I press the heel of my hand against my teeth. ‘Just give me a minute,’ I say.
I hear him walk away.
I stand up and dress quickly. My hands shake so much I can hardly pull the zipper up. I run my finger through my hair then, squaring my shoulders, go out into the room. He is sitting on the bed, and he has pulled on his sweatpants.
‘What’s up?’ he asks, his face expressionless.
I exhale the breath I’m holding. ‘I should go home.’
‘Yeah?’
I take a step towards him and shrug. ‘And I won’t be coming back again.’
His eyes narrow. ‘Why not?’ he asks calmly.
I swallow hard. ‘This was meant to be a temporary arrangement, after all. My father is back and really it’s time things went back to the way they were. It was only meant to be one night, but you’re very good in bed and it was fun so …’ I trail away.
He stands up and starts walking towards me, and I don’t think, I just run. I get as far as the door before he catches me and slams me up against the wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to shock.
‘Why are you running?’ he asks curiously. There is something eerily calm about him.
‘Will you please let go of me?’
‘After you’ve answered my question.’
‘Let go of me first.’
‘Just answer the question, Tasha,’ he sighs.
‘Look, it’s finished. We’ve both had our fun and now I’m going back to Oliver. Don’t make this difficult.’
‘You’re going back to Jarsdale?’ He says each word slowly.
‘He is my fiancé, and you knew that.’
He smiles nastily. I’ve never seen him smile at me like that ever. ‘That’s a funny thing to say while you got more of my DNA inside you than an episode of CSI.’
‘Don’t make me dislike you.’
His eyes widen. ‘Dislike? How about I make you hate me?’
In a flash he has stuck his hand under my skirt and ripped my panties off my body.
I slap him hard. It just happens. My hand rises up, flies in the air, connecting with his cheek. And it isn’t one of those girl slaps either. It cracks in the air, makes his head jerk, and leaves my handprint on his cheek.
His eyes glitter as he smiles slowly. ‘Your father shouldn’t have bothered with a paternity test. You’re his daughter all right.’
My knees start trembling, and my mouth opens with shock. He is like a stranger. So cruel. He’s never spoken to me like that. I have never seen this side of him. Just because he has always been so gentle, kind, and considerate I had the false illusion that there isn’t another side to him. Or rather, I chose to ignore the side of him that has hurt, killed, and maimed. Perhaps I don’t know him at all. He and my father are from the same world, after all.
‘Noah,’ I cry, my voice hoarse with hurt and horror at the beast I have unleashed. My shaking hands reach out for him.
Suddenly his mouth is on mine, crushing, rough, possessive, demanding, taking. He forces his tongue into my mouth, hooks my tongue with it and, pulling it into his own, sucks it hard. I whimper as his leg parts my thighs, and his hand moves upwards to find my slick entrance. His fingers slide in, and he begins to pump them in and out of me. I’m so wet his fingers make a squelching sound. He lifts his head.
‘Started to hate me yet?’ he asks.
‘I hate you.’ The words tremble in the air between us.
‘Who should I believe? Your body is telling me a different story,’ he snarls.
He lifts me in his arms and carries me to his bed. The covers feel cold against my heated skin.
‘What are you going to do?’ I ask stupidly.
He laughs a little. ‘Little innocent Tasha,’ he taunts.
He pushes down his sweatpants and he is hard and erect. He gets on the bed.
‘You are mine,’ he growls harshly as he thrusts deep into me. I groan and he puts his fingers slick with my juices into my mouth, making me suck them. My fingers grasp the cool sheet under me as he quickens his speed. He stares at me, and unable to bear his gaze, I close my eyes.
‘Open your eyes,’ he orders sternly.
My eyes fly open.
‘Tell me you want me to stop.’
‘I … I … ah …’
‘Tell me you want me to fuck you.’
‘I want you to … ah … fuck you …. me, fuck me.’
‘Tell me your pussy belongs to me.’
‘My pussy belongs to you,’ I cry.
‘I didn’t hear that.’
‘My pussy belongs to you,’ I scream uncontrollably as the waves of an incredible orgasm engulfs me. It rips through my very core like a hurricane. It drains me completely before it is over. I stare up at my gorgeous man as his body contracts and arches, and he goes off to meet his own climax.
He pulls out and cum gushes out of me.
‘I have to go,’ I whisper.
‘I know. Let me call Sam.’
He gets off the bed and walks out of the room.
I go into the bathroom, clean myse
lf, and go downstairs. He is standing by the drinks cabinet. There is a glass in his hand. I have a sense of déjà vu. I go into the room and stand in the middle of it.
‘I’m sorry I said all those horrible things,’ I admit.
He looks at me sadly. ‘Don’t apologize, Tasha. It was nothing. Between us there is nothing to be sorry for.’
‘But I said such nasty things and made you so angry.’
‘Do you really believe that just some silly words could change anything for me? I would die for you, Tasha Evanoff.’
I run sobbing into his arms. He holds me tight. ‘My poor, poor Tasha,’ he croons. He pulls me away from him slightly and strokes my hair. ‘Don’t come to see me anymore, OK? Leave it all to me. Don’t do a single thing.’
I feel the pain of his words like a knife in my chest, but I nod.
He kisses my wet eyelids one by one. ‘I promise you’ll be mine, or I’ll die fucking trying.’
Like a fool I start sobbing again. I hardly ever cried before I met him. Now I’m like some sort of broken tap that can’t stop gushing.
‘Shhh … my darling.’
‘I don’t want you to die,’ I bawl.
‘We all have to die. It’s how we die that counts. I’m not afraid to die for you.’
‘My father—’
‘I’m not afraid of your father. I may have a card up my sleeve.’
I stop crying and stare at him. ‘Really? What?’
He smiles. ‘You seriously think I’m gonna tell you?’
‘Give me a clue what it’s about?’
‘No.’
Then the taxi comes and he walks me to the street. At the open door of the cab our fingers linger. In the light of the streetlamps his face looks distant and sad. Both of us know this could be the last time. I kiss him on his cheek. His skin is warm and bristly. I inhale the smell of him one last time and turn away blindly. The waterworks have started again.
Twenty-nine
Tasha Evanoff
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ak7kedzR8bg
Ten Green Bottles
I leave my grandma in the kitchen enjoying her pot of tea, slip my shoes off, and I take the stairs two at a time. The house is still and gloomy. My father must still be asleep.
You Don't Know Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Page 11