Russian Bad Boy's Untouched Love

by Rose, Bella

  “I need you so badly,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

  “Not yet, my love.” He pressed a kiss to her belly. “I want to pleasure you just a little longer. I want you to come for me.”

  She might have argued that she wanted to come with his cock inside her, but he chose that moment to spread her wide and blow ever so gently on her swollen folds. Mary gasped and arched her back. Twisting her fingers in the sheets she felt her inner muscles clench with desire.

  Vlad carefully used his fingers to manipulate her clit. He circled the tiny bundle of nerves before moving lower to tease her opening. Mary gasped in delight and felt the first blush of an orgasm steal through her body.

  He continued to stroke her wetness. The sound of his fingers touching her flesh filled the room. She could even smell her own arousal. Strangely enough, it was a turn on. She loved it that he could get this sort of response from her body.

  Liquid heat slipped through her veins. Every muscle in her body tensed as she neared her peak. Closing her eyes, Mary let the sensation of fulfillment wash over her. When she shattered she screamed Vlad’s name until her throat was raw. A kaleidoscope of light burst behind her eyelids and she thought she might actually levitate off the bed.

  VLAD’S COCK FELT as if it were clawing at the fly of his jeans. Watching Mary come was an erotic sight he could only stand for so long before he had to give in to his desire to possess her fully. Her inner muscles clenched and unclenched in wave after wave of involuntary contractions as her climax ripped through her body.

  He could feel each and every single movement as she began to come down from the heights of passion. Vlad allowed her a little bit of time to recover. Shucking his own clothing, he lay beside her on the bed and savored the sensation of having nothing between them but skin.

  “You make me crazy,” she whispered. “It’s like flying off a cliff and soaring right to the heavens.”

  “Good.” He could hardly hold back the satisfaction in his voice. “Did I hurt you?”

  “My shoulder?” She barely seemed to register the injury. “No, not at all. And you sure as hell better not be done.”

  “Never.”

  He rolled to his side and gave her a deep, drugging kiss. She strained to get closer to him, one of her legs crossing over his as she undulated against him. The wetness of the hair between her legs brushed over the hard shaft of his cock. He groaned in response, unable to control the thrusting of his hips.

  “Come on, Vlad,” she whispered against his lips. “I want to feel you inside me. Don’t you want to fuck me?”

  The work fuck coming from her sweet lips was crazy erotic in and of itself. Mary’s innocence had burned away to reveal a woman confident in what she wanted both in and out of the bedroom. Truly she was a force to be reckoned with.

  Vlad put one hand beneath her thigh and spread her wide while she still lay on her side. She gasped in delight when he palmed his cock and let the head slide against her swollen pussy. The slick feel of her was a sweet kind of torture. He groaned as his cock throbbed with the need to be buried inside her.

  “God that feels good!” she moaned.

  He felt the end of his cock catch against her entrance. Unable to hold back, he thrust forward and penetrated her with one long stroke. The angle created all new friction inside her body. She clenched tight around him and he felt her almost instantly melt into orgasm.

  “Vlad!”

  The sound of her calling his name was almost too much. Vlad used his hips to keep a steady rhythm. He wanted her to find her third peak, to feel the ultimate satisfaction of coming at the same time.

  Nothing existed but the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy. The wet noises of their flesh slapping together was punctuated by their ragged breathing. Vlad’s heart pounded so hard that he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Then she arched her back just enough to send his cock even deeper inside her body. He felt the smoothness of her G-spot against the tip of his cock and knew he was done.

  “Come for me, Mary. Give me what I need right now.”

  Mary almost instantly responded to his desperate request. Her moan dissolved into a high-pitched wail as everything inside her clamped down hard on his cock. The long vein in Vlad’s shaft pulsed as his seed spilled into Mary’s warm, willing body. He spent himself completely, until his arms were shaking with the effort of holding their position.

  Mary was gasping and panting. Her fingers clutched his shoulders so tightly that her nails were digging into his skin. Vlad liked it. There was an element of possessiveness in the idea of carrying her scratch marks on his body. As if he had gained another tattoo, this one a testament of love.

  She flopped to the mattress, wincing a little as her shoulder hit the wadded up blanket. Vlad gently pulled her close, trying to keep her from further injuring herself. Perhaps this protectiveness was instinct, plain and simple. There was nothing that meant more to him than keeping Mary safe and sound.

  “What are you thinking?” she whispered.

  “Actually I was considering getting a new tattoo.”

  “Oh.” Her momentary surprise lapsed into silence and he could practically hear her thinking.

  “Yes?” he prompted. “You’ve obviously got an opinion.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “I would hope so,” he retorted. “Your opinion means far more than anyone else’s. That means I need to know what it is whenever possible.”

  “I was just thinking that I might like to get a tattoo.” She idly traced the shape of the crow on his ribs. The tickling sensation was rather pleasant.

  “Is that right?” he mused, liking the idea. “Have you thought of what you might like your tattoo to look like?”

  “It can’t be generic.” She made an adorable little moue with her mouth as if she were really giving it serious thought. “What if I got a crow to match yours?”

  Vlad groaned. “Tell me you’re not afraid you’ll need something to ferry your soul to the land of the dead anytime soon.”

  “I hope not!” Her giggle soon died into something that seemed an awful lot like introspective thought. “But sometimes I’m afraid I might need to find a crow to go searching for your soul.”

  “Like I might be lost?”

  “You lead a dangerous life, Vlad.”

  “Life is dangerous. Period,” he pointed out. “You almost got killed on a field trip with second graders.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” she agreed. “My job is far more dangerous than yours.”

  “I do think your job takes more talent.” The idea made him chuckle. “You need more diplomacy.”

  “In all seriousness though.” She gazed into his face and he could not look away. “I don’t want us to keep anything from each other. Ever. Life is dangerous. I’m willing to fight for what we have. Even if it means chasing down every crow I can find just to save your soul.”

  It was probably the most beautiful sentiment he’d ever heard and the next words out of his mouth were as natural as breathing. “Then be my wife, Mary Reilly. Complete my life and blend your soul with mine.”

  “Name the time and place,” she whispered. “And I’ll be there.”

  Vlad kissed her then, feeling as if he had finally found the missing piece that tied his entire existence together.

  THE END

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  Copyright 2016 Bella Rose

  Chapter One

  Kaylee wiped out a pint glass with the terry cloth towel hanging over her shoulder. It was forty-five minutes to close on a Wednesday night and the haze of smoke hovering near the ceiling of the old pub was p
retty much at maximum capacity. She was tired. She was at the end of a double shift and she was ready to close up and get home.

  A few regulars still lounged about the inside of the pub. The old place sat on a corner in Boston’s South End and Kaylee sometimes wondered if the pub had been around since colonial times. It certainly seemed as if their customers were probably descendants of the revolution. They liked to come in, grab a pint and talk crap about the economy, the unions, and pretty much life in general.

  The bell over the door jangled and Kaylee looked up. She didn’t particularly want to deal with another customer tonight, but this guy definitely didn’t seem to fit the profile. She blinked a few times to clear the haze of sexual prowess that hung on this man like a shroud. He walked like a living sex god, if such a thing was possible. From the lazy rolling gait, to the way his muscles seemed warm and languid. Something about him made every forgotten hormone in her body sit up and beg.

  “Let me get a shot of vodka, and leave the bottle.” He swung onto a barstool, gesturing to the shelves behind the bar. “The good stuff please?”

  Kaylee snagged the bottle and flipped it deftly in one hand before setting it on the bar top. Then she grabbed a glass. “Can I see some green?” She cocked her head expectantly. He might be a serious hottie, but she still needed to get paid.

  The guy gazed at her as though she were some kind of science experiment. Then he pulled out a bill and set it on the counter. Kaylee tried not to snatch it up, but she didn’t see a lot of hundred dollar bills in a week. Pub business was modest in a place like Southie. Forcing herself to be cool, she lifted the bill to the dim overhead lights for examination.

  “If you don’t believe that one is real, I have another,” he muttered. “Or five.”

  “This’ll do.” She started to shove the bill in her pocket and thought better of it. “You want change?”

  “No.”

  Even better, as long as the guy didn’t go through the rest of her stock of top shelf vodka. Maybe he’d get too drunk to notice if she swapped him the cheap stuff. This kind of green would get her closer to what she needed to finish paying off the balance on her mother’s nursing home bill for the month.

  “What is your name?” he asked.

  “Kaylee.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Kaylee. I am Ivan.”

  “Okay.”

  She gave this Ivan customer a long perusal, wondering where he’d come from. They got a lot of immigrant types in the pub, but not like this guy. Sexiness aside, she knew what a custom suit like that cost. And she couldn’t see his shoes, but she would bet good money they were expensive. He looked like an angel with his white-blond hair, but those dark eyes were evaluating everything he saw with careful calculation. She wondered if he spent that much effort pleasuring a woman.

  Ivan put his elbows on the bar and leaned forward. “It seems rather unwise for the owner of this establishment to leave a woman here alone late at night.”

  “Who says I’m alone?” She gestured to the other patrons. “You don’t want to tangle with the regulars if you’re trying to mess with their bar.”

  “Or their bar wench?” he suggested with the hint of a smile.

  Kaylee snorted. “Yeah, that’s me. The local grog wench.” The she pulled out the baseball bat she kept beneath the bar and laid it on the countertop. “Although if you’d like to go a round or two I’d be happy to show you to the door.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “I’m only—how do you Americans put it—messing with you.”

  “Is that right?” She wondered if her expression told him that she thought about his sanity. “For the record, we don’t typically mess with people we don’t know.”

  “Ah, I guess I haven’t been here long enough to learn all the nuances.” His manner sobered and he poured himself another shot of vodka.

  Damn. He’d definitely snagged her curiosity. Was he deliberately trying to get her interested? “If you haven’t been here long, where’d you come from?”

  “Where do you think?” The smooth accent coating his words grew more pronounced.

  “Obviously Russia, but I would have no way to accurately say where your accent is from. I don’t have that much experience with dialectical pinpointing.” Kaylee didn’t add that she thought his accent was pretty damn sexy.

  “Dialectical pinpointing?” he said with amusement. “You are more than you seem, aren’t you?”

  She shrugged. “If you say so, but you still haven’t told me where you’re from.”

  “St. Petersburg,” he said quickly. “I’ve been here on business for several months, but your government is refusing to extend my visa.”

  Kaylee didn’t miss the slight hitch in his voice when he said the word “business.” The guy was Russian, here from Russia, and the government didn’t want him around. That suggested something specific. She laid her hand unobtrusively on the handle of the bat.

  “There is no need for that.” He jerked his chin toward her bat and took another shot of vodka. “I can assure you I have no desire to make trouble for myself tonight.”

  She leaned forward, unable to stop herself. His eyes gleamed in the lights. The sight was fascinating. They were so dark, like pools of night in his face. In contrast his skin was pale. The planes of his face were angular and strong. This was a man that backed away from nothing in life. She could respect that.

  “Yo, Kaylee!” A voice from the other end of the bar demanded her attention.

  Swinging away from Ivan, she focused on Tyrese. The big man was giving Ivan the evil eye in a way that did not suggest a warm Boston welcome. Kaylee roused herself. “What can I get for you, Ty?”

  “I need another beer.”

  “I’ll put it on your tab.” She didn’t bother to comment on the fact that Ty had already poured himself another draft. More than a few of her regulars felt entitled to that sort of thing. She let it go simply because it wasn’t worth the fight.

  Then Ty cocked his head. His eyes were wide in his dark face. “This guy bothering you, Kaylee?”

  “Not at all, Ty,” Kaylee assured him. Ty was quick to anger and even quicker to react. “We’re just having a nice chat.”

  Ty grunted, but he took his beer back to his seat and resumed his bitching about the umpire at the last Red Sox game. Kaylee turned back to Ivan. She noticed he’d grown rather tense during her little chat with Ty. Interesting.

  IVAN WONDERED WHAT this woman was thinking. That was a rare thing for him. Usually people in general, and women in particular, were easy to read. Kaylee was anything but.

  There was something incredibly enticing about this bold as brass woman with the frank temperament and penchant for cutting straight to the point. She wasn’t necessarily much to look at. Especially not in her plain jeans and T-shirt. Her hair was dark brown and long. She’d pulled it up into a ponytail and more than a few strands straggled around her face as though she was at the end of a very long shift. She was tall, probably five feet eight to his six feet. There was plenty of athletic muscle on her frame as well as a pair of voluptuous breasts and a nice rounded behind that invited grabbing.

  She had gone back to wiping glasses in what was probably her cleanup for the night. He found he didn’t like losing her attention. “Have you worked here long?” he asked, immediately berating himself for not coming up with something better.

  “Since college.” Her voice was almost terse. “It’s not exactly the job I would have picked to make a career out of, but sometimes choices are thin on the ground.”

  “That’s true enough.” He thought about his own situation. “Sometimes we do what we have to.”

  “I’m sorry,” she snorted. “You’re wearing a suit that probably cost more than a month’s tips. How is it that you think you got screwed over?”

  “That’s a pretty judgmental statement, don’t you think?” Her confrontational manner fascinated him. Nobody ever challenged him these days.

  “Just an observation.” S
he lifted a shoulder carelessly. “I don’t care what you do although the evidence so far points to something illegal.”

  “Is that right?” Oh yes. This woman was more than she seemed. “And should I be worried that you’re trying to trap me?”

  “For what?” she snorted. “All I care about is the color of your money. What you do on your own time is your problem.”

  “What if what I want to do happens to be you?” The words were out before he could reel them back, but once said Ivan discovered they were very true.

  “You don’t have any hookers in your business plan?” The mockery in her tone grated on his pride, but didn’t cool his lust.

  He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re asking whether or not I could pay for any woman I wanted, the answer is that I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know something like that?”

  “The woman I want for tonight is you. What’s your price?” Ivan was aware that he’d just given her a grave insult, but his instincts suggested it was a good gamble.

  “Are you calling me a whore?” she murmured the question, glancing at the other customers still milling about the interior of the bar.

  “No.” What was he suggesting? His lips seemed to move without any input from his brain. “I’m simply wondering what your price is. Everyone has a price. Don’t you think?”

  There were a thousand thoughts going through her mind. He could see that much though he had no idea what they might be. Then she wetted her full lips with the tip of her tongue. His cock swelled behind the fly of his trousers. A long strand of her ponytail slithered over her shoulder and she pushed it back with an unconscious gesture he found charming. There was something very feminine about Kaylee that appealed to Ivan on a primal level. It was making him far bolder than he would have normally been.

  Finally she leaned forward until he caught a hint of her warm, spicy scent. “My self-respect isn’t for sale, but I will let you buy me a drink.”