by V. F. Mason
Fuck no.
However, the bar became quiet. I noticed men studying our conversation with interest, and some passed money to Misha, making bets if I would take her up on her offer this time.
Well, show time.
Grabbing her arm, I escorted her out toward the stables, where Vasya had his favorite horses. She giggled happily, and a few cheers from the men were heard in the background, along with some gunfire. Apparently, getting your dick wet equaled respect in the mob, although why sex would appeal to anyone was beyond me.
Once we reached our destination, I pushed her to the wall, as she moaned, “Finally you decided to savor this pussy.” Sliding her hands down to her pussy, she ran her finger up and down and then trailed it back to her breasts. I was sure this action was supposed to have an effect on me, but it failed to hit its mark.
She removed her jacket, leaving her standing in a short skirt and top, along with her heels. She darted to my mouth, but I stopped her. No fucking way was I ever kissing anyone, let alone a whore who serviced all the gang members. “Turn around,” I instructed, and she nodded eagerly, quickly spinning to face the wall. She placed her hands on the wood, and lifted her ass up, wiggling it lightly.
Naked flesh for the taking. I watched enough porn to know I had to prepare her with my finger and then enter her.
Pussy up close, bare flesh glistening from her desire, I assumed.
I fucking wanted to throw up. My cock was hard, but then it had more to do with hormones raging inside than anything else. Plastering myself behind her, I put a condom on my cock and slipped my fingers inside her, noticing she was already wet.
Did all women smell so fucking bad? Thank fuck I took it outside; otherwise, I’d have suffocated.
She moaned, clearly enjoying everything, and raised her hand to wrap around my neck, but I pushed it back. “Do not touch me.”
She breathed heavily. “Whatever you want.” By the fact more wetness slipped from her, she loved rough treatment too. Without many words, I entered her in one swift thrust, and her scream of pleasure deafened me for a second, and I stopped, as fear of hurting her slipped in.
Did I hurt her?
But then she groaned. “Fuck, move.” And I did. Closing my eyes, I pumped inside her, in and out, and blocked anything or anyone from my mind, and slowly, a pleasant sensation ran through me as some unfamiliar tingling at the base of my spine spread right before I came in the condom, and my body received much-needed relief.
Felt nice.
Better than nice. My breathing calmed, and it seemed as if I even saw clearer, and the deep consuming rage constantly present could be controlled. Only fist fighting had that effect on me before.
“God, that was good.” She spun around as excitement shone in her eyes. “When can we do it again?”
Cleaning my fingers in the nearby sink, I dried them up with a towel, and replied with a detached voice, “Never.” Whoever thought sex was something out of this world clearly was fucked in the head. It brought relief, and I’d use it in the future for that purpose.
But actually enjoy it? No.
And only doing it this way would do. I would take the woman from the back; that way, I could always close my eyes, and pretend, for one moment, I reached bliss. Although calling this shit blissful was overdoing it.
Olga grinned cockily. “You’ll change your mind. I can suck cock really good.” The minute she said it, the images of what was done to me in the cell popped into my head and bile rose in my throat, threatening to spill on the ground.
“Leave.” She blinked, confused, and I barked again, “Blyat, leave!” She quickly picked up her jacket and ran to the headquarters as my hands clenched into fists.
Congratulations to me for losing my virginity to some whore in the stables.
Rosa
The sunset’s light slipping through the balcony as the curtains flew in different directions was a nice way to wake up. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I rose in bed and stretched my upper body. My muscles ached from the still poses and sexy activity from earlier, as a shiver went down my spine remembering the heat of his embraces and our orgasms.
Goose bumps ran across my naked flesh. I pressed the sheet to my chest, the rough fabric scratching my sensitive nipples. Padding softly from the room, my toes curled into the white carpet and my eyes searched for any sight of Dominic, but the apartment wing seemed empty.
Frowning, I picked up a bottle of water from the small, round table near the couch and opened the lid, enjoying the cooling sensation it provided for my dry mouth. The loud ringing of a phone made me choke on my drink, as it sounded more like a freaking fire alarm. Walking quickly to it, I answered, out of breath, “Hello?”
A pause greeted me, and I thought the line was disconnected, when a husky, deep voice replied, “Just what were you doing, krasavica, that you are breathless?”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as memories of last night washed over me like an overpowering wave. “Rushing to take your call.”
He chuckled, making me smile. “I do like that.”
“Why aren’t you here with me?” Not that I was a needy girlfriend or anything, but I hoped our first official morning together, he’d be here by my side.
“Important business, couldn't not go.” His voice was colored in remorse, but I understood.
“Oh, I see.” Although I secretly wondered if it was an indication of the future. With me at night, but out doing business during the day? He must have heard disappointment in my voice, because he was quick to reassure me. “Just for few hours. Local gangs need a reminder who rules here.” His words shouldn't have the power to turn me on, but somehow they did. There was something seriously wrong with me, but it was hard to care when the man in question ruled your sanity. “Then I can show you Moscow at nighttime. You’ve never been here before, right?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Then you’ll discover it with me,” he said happily, and my heart warmed. “As for now, Michael waits for you outside the door. He’ll take you for a late lunch, and you can pass the time however you wish.” I barely contained the laughter threatening to spill from my lips. Passing time was impossible in here. What would I do, drink myself to sleep again?
Instead, I murmured, “Sure.” And after assuring me he’d come soon, he hung up.
Dragging my feet back to the room, I dashed to the bathroom where the sheet fell to the cold, black tile as my foot stepped into the shower stall. The showerhead rested just above me, wide with huge holes while two smaller ones pointed out from the side, giving a whole tropical experience. Adjusting the temperature to hot—I simply couldn't stand cold water, even if it helped to keep skin younger or could be refreshing—I groaned in pleasure as jets of water relaxed my shoulders and neck and warmed my shivering body. Was the AC running even in the bathroom, for crying out loud?
Soaping myself up with shower gel, I wondered about my dad and his well-being right then. Dominic promised me I could call him once he considered it safe, but the inability to contact him created a hopeless hole inside me, which gave me a headache.
So much for relaxing. Once I was done washing, to my surprise, the water still stayed hot. I turned it off and toweled myself dry. I found body cream on the counter. Biting my lower lip, I looked around and noticed all the female necessities, coincidentally, were the brands I used back home. Also, the towels and robes were in my favorite color, baby blue. Glancing briefly at my reflection in the foggy mirror, I strolled to the closet and opened it wide. Different kinds of dresses, shoes, and jeans came into view, all with size tags fitting me.
I seriously needed to speak with my Russian about buying me clothes without consulting me first. Although in that moment, I was grateful for them, since the whole kidnapping thing didn't allow much time for packing, not that he’d hear a thank you from me.
Tracing my index finger along the hangers, my mind settled on a floral off-the-shoulder midi dress that ended slightly below my knees. Decidin
g to leave my ebony hair down, I applied minimal makeup and, with a bright smile, emerged from the room. I almost bumped chests with Michael, who held a glass of orange juice in his hand, ice cubes clinking with each other inside the glass from the impact. He scanned my body from head to toe and smirked. “Going for the kill, huh?”
I just rolled my eyes, snatched the glass from him, and groaned in relief as my dry throat received a cooling drink. “Thanks.”
He shrugged, walking in step with me. “I actually feel guilty over yesterday’s misunderstanding. Kostya is just stupid,” he muttered, frowning.
A giggle escaped my mouth. “I think everyone established that small fact yesterday.” Gulping more, I asked, “So… lunch?”
He nodded. “We’ll eat in the main dining room.”
I had a peek in there when I searched my way back to the bar. A rectangular table filled almost the whole room, with a crystal and gold chandelier glittering under the bright sunlight. Red and gold dominated the colors, but even with expensive porcelain and furniture, goose bumps ran through me at the thought of dining there. I bet all major business deals with criminals were handled there. Thanks, but no thanks. “Can we eat somewhere else? I’m going to lose my appetite before I even start in there.”
“Sure, but that leaves only the bar, I’m afraid.” Raising my brows in surprise, I held his hand as we walked down the stairs. These damn wedges. “No other place to eat in this entire mansion?”
“Nope. Guys usually eat in either the kitchen, dining room, or the bar. Dom eats in his office, unless he has a meeting. So yeah, I can order Larisa to bring your food upstairs if you want.”
“Who is Larisa? And the bar is fine. I’ll go crazy sitting alone for twenty-four hours.”
Michael nudged my shoulder. “You weren't even alone for four hours. Miss the guy already, huh?”
My cheeks heated as my breath quickened. “Yeah? Well, how about you? Whenever my man leaves, yours does too.”
He sighed heavily. “True that. At least you can be open with your affection. I don’t have such luxury,” he finished sadly. Instinctively, I hugged him, hoping he’d get comfort from that.
Once we reached the bar, the picture presented in front of me was much different from the previous night. Members played on Xboxes, chatted together, or watched TV news in the corner, while the women who partied hard cleaned the place and wore more suitable clothes.
Kostya wiped the counter with a towel, while Konstanciya flipped hastily through a magazine. Placing my butt next to her, I said cheerfully, “Hey.”
“Hey,” they replied in unison, as both their eyes narrowed on each other. By the tension instantly filling the air, I got the feeling those two didn't like one another.
“How are you guys today?” Okay, this line was slightly odd considering the circumstances, but no one seemed in the mood for conversation, and I simply wanted to know more about the place, where I’d probably live ‘til the end of my life, which already depressed me immensely.
“Small talk isn't necessary,” Konstanciya noted, while circling some gun in the magazine with her red pen.
“Don’t be rude to her,” Kostya snapped.
She laughed, and surprisingly, it was melodic and gentle, in contrast with her tough appearances. “Rich coming from you, since you put her in the hotel room,” she sassily added, and his demeanor darkened.
“Shut up.”
“We are in trouble with the pakhan. On fucking cleaning duty the whole day.” Glancing at the clock, it showed six pm, so Dominic already had their meeting and probably ripped them a new one.
Before he could say anything else, Michael groaned beside me. “You guys need to either fuck or fight. Everyone is goddamn tired of your arguments.” This shut them both up real quick.
Interesting. “How come you guys know English so well?”
Larisa, the household cook, put a plate with Belgian waffles and fresh strawberries on the side along with green tea on the counter in front of me. Dominic even told them my food preferences. My stomach growled loudly, and the guys chuckled.
“Per Vasya’s orders. He had ruled the house for thirty years. He insisted on education, especially on learning new languages. Most of us just chose English, easier I guess.” Michael popped a cashew in his mouth while sipping his coffee.
“So what do you guys do on a daily basis? Just sit around?” I questioned, shoveling food in my mouth and moaning in pleasure as the dough melted on my tongue.
Cosa Nostra’s members had their daily jobs and obligations if they wanted, as long as they stayed the hell away from the police. Even standing in the small grocery shopping line with a police officer was a punishable offense. One of many rules the house lived by.
“I’m the pakhan’s assistant. So I schedule meetings, parties, make sure everything runs smoothly in headquarters. Stuff like that.” Chewing on the sweet strawberry, I highly doubted Dom needed an assistant, but he sure showed his sensitive side giving Michael the job. During the month we had spent together in New York, he told me how he found Michael on the streets trying to steal from him, so he offered him a place in the Bratva. This gentle soul probably couldn't stomach any violence.
“I’m the Bratva’s sniper,” Konstanciya said breezily, and the cup with hot tea stopped a few inches from my lips.
“As in—”
“Killing people from a distance if the pakhan asks me to,” she finished for me. Well, okay.
“You are a woman,” I blurted, and her eyebrows came together while she folded her arms in ‘attack’ mode.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know I operate the guns better than some men operate their dicks.”
“You wish,” Michael muttered, and got a slap to the back of his head by Kostya.
“In the Cosa Nostra, women don’t do that.” I shrugged. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, these archaic laws piss me off. But when I’m not busy killing people, I actually run the animal shelter a few hours away from here.” Yeah, the woman sure lived with contradictions, but that was what made her so intriguing.
“Can you take me with you tomorrow?”
She glanced at me, surprise filling her, but she nodded. “Sure.” She closed the magazine and slid it to Michael. “Several new guns for me, please.”
“I’m not a damn Amazon wish list, Legs,” Michael complained.
She covered her ears with her hands and chanted. “La la la. Can’t hear you. La la la.” He rolled the thing into a tube and aimed at her head, while Kostya’s arm stopped him.
“Michael,” he warned.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
The bartender just held his stare and then shifted his attention to me. “I just bartend.”
“And?” I prompted, curious about his main occupation.
“And that’s it,” he said coldly, and went back to wiping dishes. Excuse me, but what? How could a strong, virile man just work behind a bar in the mob? He sure as hell would have been put to good use in different areas with his muscles.
Before I could question it though, Michael’s phone vibrated; he read his message quickly and stood abruptly. “Rosa, you done?” Gulping the leftover tea, I nodded, and he clapped his hands. “Great, let’s go then.”
He grabbed my arm, practically dragging me outside, and I only had time to wave to them and shout, “See you later.” They waved back, although neither of them raised their heads to look at me.
What a strange couple.
Once outside, the light breeze cooled my heated skin, and a car waited for us. “Come on, babe.”
I didn't even have time to blink. He pushed me inside, the door closed behind me, and the vehicle drove slowly to the gate. “What the hell?”
Strong hands wrapped around my neck as my breath hitched and Dom’s mouth took mine prisoner in a heated kiss, where our tongues entwined and his hands gripped my waist painfully. “Moya krasavica,” he murmured, nuzzling m
y neck while my nails scratched his hair on the back of his head. “Missed me?”
“Yes.”
He tugged on my hair harder, exposing my collarbone for his greedy licks. “Me too. Leaving you alone in our bed was torture.”
My skin prickled from his light touches, an inferno running in my blood. “Where are you taking me?”
“Sightseeing. Time for you to discover the beauty of Moscow.”
This information snapped me out of my lust-filled haze, and I sat up straight, as he frowned in displeasure. “Oh, my God, really? Where exactly?”
His lips lifted in mischievous smile, looking so out of place on his hard-as-granite face. “You’ll see.”
Dominic
“Your phone is about to die, Dom,” Rosa whined, clicking thousands of times on the camera button to save the beauty of Red Square in the evening. “What if it shuts off before I can capture it all?”
Secretly, I hoped it would; I planned this as a romantic getaway. Instead, my woman jumped around the Square like a monkey, while my hands twitched to prop her on my shoulder and kidnap her to Irkutsk, where the house I could think in was located. The fucking dress of hers exposed those sexy curves, just begging to be molded by me. I growled a few times at men admiring her body, so they’d know to stay away.
Vitya murmured, “You’ll have an entire collection of postcards after this trip.” I chuckled, as he winked while my byki stood in the background, headed by Gleb.
The man still preferred to stay away from me after he touched my woman. I couldn't really punish him, considering I hadn't introduced her officially, so the blame was on me. However, the bruise on his skull along with a broken wrist satisfied the beast inside me. After all, no one in this world had permission to touch what belonged to me.
The reason I brought her here for our first trip was that I longed for her to feel this special atmosphere with every fiber of her being. The huge square shone under the various lamppost lights, as small, colorful bulbs decorated the huge trees, giving the place a special, vivid attraction. Several souvenir shops displayed modern Russian art along with masterpieces of icons, magnets, and matryoshka, which were several small dolls nesting in a bigger one. Rosa squealed like a little girl and bought one of each item, while Vitya had to carry them around before she was done, and he placed them in the car.