Dirty Passions

by Wright, Kenya

  My cock jumped along my thigh.

  Calm down. We still have to give her time.

  Still, lust coursed through my veins. I climbed into bed. “We’ve been flying country to country and running around for these past weeks. Are you exhausted, mysh?”

  She slipped into the bed and got under the covers with me. “I’m well-rested. We had a few times to relax.”

  I gathered her into my arms. Those soft breasts pressed against my chest. Trying to calm my hormones, I focused on the bigger picture, slid my hand under the blanket, and then placed my palm on her stomach.

  For now, it was flat. There wasn’t a bump or protruding belly, but I couldn’t wait until it came. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to reassure myself that everything would be okay with this pregnancy.

  Moonlight spilled through the window. Part of her body glowed while the rest hid in shadow. Through the scattered light, I studied her curves under the silk sheets.

  Since the moment I first brought Emily to Russia, all I thought about was possibly filling her with a baby. Part of the reason was that it was time for me to have a family. What had all the fighting for power been for, if not for someone to pass it on to?

  The other part was my desire to cage my mouse to me. If we had a baby, she would always be in my life, chained to me forever.

  Now the moment had arrived, and terror blazed in my chest.

  Please, let the rest of this pregnancy be fine.

  Emily’s soft voice brushed against my chest. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “But, I’m right here. Safe and sound.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Kaz. . .promise me that you won’t act crazy in these coming months.”

  “I can’t promise you that, mysh.”

  “You can.” She rose and kissed me. Her stiff nipples bumped against my chest.

  Groaning, I drank her in, loving the taste of her mouth. She represented all four elements to me. I sipped water from her lips. She warmed me with the fire in her eyes. Her whispers served as a cool breeze. Her body rocked and throbbed like the earth.

  I could lose myself inside of her and never crave escape.

  My hands yearned to cup her full breasts and toy with those nipples.

  She whispered, “I want you,”

  My cock hardened. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you tell me, if I’m hurting you? Are you healed?”

  “Stop talking and fuck me, Kaz.” Those words came out as soft moans. The need in her voice made her sound like she couldn’t go another minute without my cock, or she might die.

  My mouth descended on hers, hungry and fierce. No softness or build-up. Turning her way, I moved between her legs and slipped my hands between her thighs.

  I groaned, “You’re pussy is soaking wet.”

  “I’ve been wanting you all day.”

  “You’re supposed to tell me these things, so I can please you. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes, mysh.” I rubbed the tip of my cock between those throbbing folds. “God, I missed this.”

  Wanting to be careful, I slowly pushed the tip of my cock past her tight opening. The pleasure of Emily’s body overtook me.

  “Oh!” she moaned.

  I thrust all the way in, shoving my cock into that sweet pussy. She was so fucking tight and warm.

  “You’re pregnant, mysh.” I push my way deep. “Now, you’re all mine.”

  “I was always yours.” She clamped that pussy on my cock.

  Grunting, I thrust in harder, trying to rub on her clit while I went deep. “How does it feel?”

  “So damn good.” She placed her arms around my neck. “Keep fucking me. Don’t stop.”

  I leaned down and kissed her, tasting her tongue and nibbling on her lip. Her body relaxed under mine. I buried my face along her neck.

  “It will always be you, mysh.” I kissed her below her ear. “No one else but you.”

  She gasped as her body tightened.

  Her arousal wet my cock. It drove me crazy.

  I pulled out. It had been so long since I’d moved inside of her. I was close to exploding. “Damn it.”

  “Come back.”

  I rubbed my cock across Emily’s clit, giving her enough pressure to send her over the edge. My mouse’s body pulsed and writhed.

  I kissed my way down her neck, made it to her breasts, and sucked on those lovely nipples.

  My name left her mouth. “Kaz.”

  “Damn you.” I could have been more patient, but it had been so long. I thrust back into her. That pussy throbbed over my cock. I pounded and pumped, slipping in and out. Nothing was better than my mouse, open and warm for me.

  My orgasm taunted me, threatening to come close. My body vibrated with a maddening craving to release load after load into her. Her pussy was like a monsoon, engulfing and swallowing my cock whole. A goddamn tsunami lying in wait. Our bodies melted together. Our ribs tenderly collided. We breathed the same air. Felt the same warmth.

  And then we detonated at the same time.

  “Fuck.” I kissed the space between her breasts and tried to pull my cock out again.

  “No, liev.” She wrapped her legs around my waist. “You’re mine.”

  “Fuck,” I growled and tried to pull out again.

  She kept those legs tight, not letting me leave. “Oh!”

  No. I wanted to make this last longer.

  “So damn greedy.” Leaning down, I sucked on her nipple to get my mind off of cumming. To try to get some control.

  “Fuck,” she whimpered through the orgasm. Her pussy tightened and spasmed around my length three times—squeezing and loosening, squeezing and loosening.

  That made me lose control. It forced me to fuck the shit out of her. Take all my aggression out on that pussy. I pound hard into her center. The bed rocked. Her breasts bounced against my chest.

  My cock swelled.

  Finally, I let go and allowed myself what I had been desperate for this whole week. I fell into that heated passion—lust-filled embrace of carnal delight. Erotic insanity. My orgasm swooped down and captured me. Violent waves of pleasure washed over my body.

  I drowned in her.

  “Mysh!” Jets of cum shot from my cock. Spilling. Leaking. Dripping down in excess between us.

  “Ah!” I exploded, filling her sex with semen and coming so hard, I had to shut my eyes. That pussy consumed every drop.

  For several moments, I rode ecstasy.

  Our panting rose throughout the room.

  My heart boomed in my chest. My body spasmed against her.

  Still deep inside of that pussy, I held her close and buried my face in her neck.

  What would I ever do without her? Could I ever survive?

  In this moment with her under me, warm and shuddering in pleasure, I felt safe. I felt love. I felt like I was finally living. Finally breathing. My heart finally beating.

  All mine. Forever.

  Slowly opening my eyes, I pulled my cock out and kissed her skin, tasting the salty sweat on her flesh and loving every inch.

  My mouse. My soul. One day. . .my wife.

  I closed my eyes again and rolled us over, so she could lay across my chest. “One day, your sex is going to kill me.”

  “You’ve already murdered my pussy.”

  “You lie.”

  “You did.” She giggled.

  Silence fell on the room for a few minutes. A gentle breeze blew through the window. Moonlight hit our bodies as we lay entangled within each other’s limbs.

  Somewhere on the floor Harlem probably licked his butt or rested on his back with his fat gut in the air.

  I broke the quiet. “Mysh.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll never let you go.”

  “I know, baby.”

  “Never.”

  “I know.”
/>   Do you?

  I ran my fingers through her damp hair. “Bomb or war, don’t walk away again.”

  “I can’t make a promise like that.”

  “This isn’t a discussion. I’m doing my best to let you know. You’re going to be my wife.”

  “Wait. . .” She lifted her head and began to speak again.

  I swallowed any response away by kissing and letting her know that she had no choice in the matter. If necessary, I would drag her down the aisle. No one would stop me. I would shoot Boris in the head, if he interjected. I would lock Maxwell in my cell under the house, if he disagreed.

  No one could help her.

  I left her mouth and growled. “This is forever. You’re my mouse. My partner-in-crime. The mother of my child.”

  She bit her lip.

  With no control, the last words spilled out of my mouth. “And soon to be my wife.”

  The word came out breathy. “But, Kaz—”

  I returned to kissing her.

  My cock never softened.

  Another moan left her.

  “Hmmm.” I lifted her off the bed. “I want some more.”

  “Please.” She wrapped her legs around my waist, balancing her arms across my shoulders.

  Round two. It is.

  Deep down inside, I knew that she wouldn’t bring the conversation of marriage back up. The topic would be too scary for her now. Had she experienced a normal childhood and been raised with love and kindness, she would’ve been bothering me about marriage. With my mouse, I would have to take her hand and slowly walk her into this.

  Either way, it didn’t matter.

  She was mine.

  How I wish I could put Emily inside of me. Although I felt her essence moving along my heart, I needed her deeper within me.

  I can’t lose her again. I’ll always protect her.

  For my mouse, there would be no escape.

  If she passed before me, I would crawl inside her corpse and welcome death.

  Did she truly understand the madness that I held within?

  Chapter 13

  All the King’s Men

  Kazimir

  The next day, I stood in my office and stared out the window. The position of my office allowed a perfect view of the memorial. It was just what I had hoped for.

  I gazed at the large fountain. Even from this far, the angel seemed to be alive. I swore the heavenly creature was close to flying away. With the sunlight hitting the fountain just right, the streaming water around her feet moved with rainbow swirls. My attention went to the baby the angel held in her hands—my baby. Our baby.

  Can you see the memorial? Do you know how much I still love you, even though you’re not here?

  How foolish was it to care for a tiny soul that had never had a chance to come into the world? Many would laugh. Others would think it was nonsense. Still, a part of my heart ached for what could have been.

  Looking at the memorial brought a barrage of emotions. The moment Emily woke me to her bleeding flashed in my mind. I had been so happy for her return. We’d been overjoyed about the news of her pregnancy. And then, there was blood on the sheets.

  No. Don’t think about that. Focus on the surviving twin.

  Those thoughts didn’t help. I closed my eyes as it all tumbled back, flooding my head.

  The urge to kill Jean-Pierre returned. Emily and the doctor made several points that it wasn’t his fault, but still. . .I wanted to rip his arms from his sockets.

  Noise sounded behind me.

  Pavel came to my side, wearing a crisp gray suit and turquoise tie. Today, his head flowed in his waves to his shoulders, and he had turquoise gem earrings in those ears. “The brothers are here. Everyone will be entering your office soon.”

  I’ll think about killing Jean-Pierre on another day. Now, there’s business to decide.

  I continued to focus on the baby in the angel’s arms. “Have David bring in the map.”

  “He only has a map of Russia.”

  “We will only be discussing Russia in this meeting.”

  “What about the rest of Europe?”

  “That’s for this evening. We will also have to do something about Italy.”

  Pavel cleared his throat. “Have you considered who should deal with the chaos down there?”

  “I’m thinking of Nikolay. He’s cool and collected.”

  “He doesn’t have the heart to middleman the Italians and Nigerians.”

  Frowning, I turned his way. “And I suppose you do?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m not sure, if you’re ready for Italy.” I returned my attention to the fountain. “I was thinking you should get the Netherlands. Luka held that territory. You should thank me. It’s calm but bringing in a decent amount of money.”

  “There’s not much I can do there. On the other hand, there is an empire is to be had in Italy.”

  I ignored his argument. “Tell everyone to come in.”

  Pavel turned around and headed out. “Do you want the men to bring in tables and chairs—”

  “No.”

  No one would sit. All would stand today. All would remain uncomfortable. The disruption in Paris had ended. I had my mouse back. We had lost one twin, but the other was safe.

  Now there was other business to handle.

  Many had died with my war months ago. Sasha had been my number one, and Luka my number two. Both had betrayed me.

  Now, I had positions to fill. Two men to surround me and a third to maintain a sense of checks and balances. Three men to provide their wisdom and protection. Loyalty needed to be at their cores. There could be no more betrayal in the days to come. They needed clear minds and severe obedience. A clear statement of who was leading and who was following. They would stand the whole meeting, understanding that even their comfort would be decided by me.

  And then we have the other major problem.

  There was more than just territories and positions at stake. Someone was threatening my mouse. During these meetings, I would be scrutinizing everyone.

  Whose involved with these monkey heads? Who are all the people I will kill this month?

  Long ago, Uncle Igor made me read Sun Tzu’s the Art of War. It was an ancient book written by an accomplished leader and military strategist. While many things in the Art of War proved to be sound advice, two things remained in my mind forever. The first idea was to know your Enemy, you must become your Enemy. The second was to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

  Both were sound advice that I would use in these next days.

  All the men in my office that were invited were the same people who had been on my property during the time of the first monkey head incidence. Most I considered loyal. Due to these last weeks, none of that mattered anymore. I would suspect them all, until they were proven innocent.

  Who could it be?

  The first message had been after the party where I officially introduced Emily to the brotherhood.

  Someone had invaded our personal space and placed several cut-off monkey heads on our bed. They had laid the rotting objects in a pattern, forming a word. It must’ve been twenty tiny heads. Blood pooled around each one. The message had been in fenya and said, welcome.

  Fenya was a form of slang—broken Russian. Words and sayings used among criminals, murders, thieves, and peddlers. It sometimes included some Greek and Yiddish, but it was a dying language. Most men from Uncle Igor’s and my father’s generation were the ones that still used it.

  Could that be a clue? Does it tell me that this person is from my father’s time?

  Moscow Police went over everything in my bedroom. In the past, I paid several on the force to not only cover up brotherhood problems, but to also handle personal issues. These cops had found no significant forensics. No threads of clothing snagged. No footprints in the back or front of the house. No material information.

  No new fingerprints besides Emily’s, mine, and the usual staff that consistently
came into our bedroom. That meant something.

  The next message came while we were in Paris.

  I thought back to my past conversation with Zahkar. I was in Paris with Emily while he updated me on what was going on in Moscow.

  “There was another message for your mouse,” Zahkar had said. “No one noticed until a maid screamed.”

  “More heads?”

  “Yes. This time it was a chimpanzee.”

  “Was it in the same bedroom?”

  “No. The person put it in the new bedroom you both moved into.”

  Zahkar continued, “I would like full permission to question your staff.”

  “You know you have it.”

  “I don’t want to be gentle. I saw what this person did. It was wrong, and this is not a threat that can be ignored.”

  “What did he do?”

  “There were a few monkey heads on the bed, but he added more to the message this time. He hung a female chimpanzee from the chandelier directly over your bed. I know it’s a female because it had just gone into labor or perhaps he cut the child out days later. But the dead baby was there too. It was tied to the mother’s arms with fishing line.”

  “Fishing line?”

  Shutting the memory away, I tapped the edge of the window.

  The fishing line wasn’t by accident. It was a symbol within the brotherhood. The lesser ones. The ones with no code or moral. They used fishing line on women. Many had a fishing line tattooed on their chest and the line always caught a woman’s dress, telling the viewer he had a passion for rape. Men like that couldn’t be around me, and they no longer had a place in the brotherhood. If they existed, they hid themselves well.

  When I came on as the head of the brotherhood, the fishing line symbolism stopped. I didn’t even want my men to kill with it. If I allowed them to be passionate about rape and other lowly things, I wouldn’t be controlling men; I would be the boss of animals.

  And you dare put fishing line in your message to my mouse? Come out. Don’t hide in the shadows. Let me see your face.

  Thankfully, I had not lost all hope in this matter.

  I had some advantages. There was a fixed pool of possible suspects. Before the monkey-heads, my property was closed and secure with a good record of who was on site at all times.

  At this time, I trusted David and Pavel.