Even here in Brighton Beach, with a great number of Russian people, St. Patrick’s Day is a big deal, and people get really into it. In the years before my dad died, I may have taken advantage of the holiday for a little bar-hopping, myself. But nowadays it means one thing and one thing only: the Amber Room is gonna be packed.
And even though the holiday isn’t technically until tomorrow, and despite the fact that upon looking at the clock I realize it’s only 9 AM, all the local party crowds are already diving straight into the festivities. After all, there is a 24-hour liquor store down the street from my apartment complex. So naturally this early morning parade of drunkenness would occur practically right outside my window. Either way, I’m up now, so I might as well get dressed and prepare for the day.
In the past month, a lot of things have changed. For example, when I walk by my bed on the way to the bathroom, I run my fingertips along the firm, exposed backside of a Russian hit man. Ivan groans and turns over, rubbing his jaw with one strong hand.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I say sweetly, bending down to kiss his forehead.
He smiles up at me, his blue eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. He has good reason to sleep so heavily — last night we must have fucked well into the early hours of the morning. My body is still sore from it, but I’ve never been happier. I’m moving into Ivan’s place, and tonight is the last night I’ll spend in my own apartment. In the meantime, we’ve been going back and forth between his place and mine, falling asleep beside each other every single night.
It’s been absolute bliss.
“What the hell is going on out there?” Ivan asks, scowling toward the window.
“Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day.”
“Ah.” He slowly gets to his feet and pulls me close to him to press a kiss to the top of my head, his hands rubbing their way down my back. I’m wearing a thin robe, and he is completely naked. I don’t know if it’s the chill in the March air, or morning wood, or what… but I can feel his massive cock hard as a metal rod against my thigh. I can’t help but lean into him a little bit, nudging my leg against his shaft teasingly. I can feel little vibrations down my core when he chuckles, his chin still resting on top of my head.
“I hope you know what you’re starting here,” Ivan warns. I press harder into him, and he responds with a deep groan. “Damn, mishka, you didn’t get enough last night?”
I shake my head and pull back to look at him. I know exactly what I want.
Luckily, Ivan always knows what I want, too.
He hoists me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, kissing him deeply as he carries me to the bathroom. Setting me down so that my toes curl on the freezing tile floor, he turns on the shower, then returns to me and slips the robe off my shoulders. Standing naked in the cold air, my nipples are stiff, goosebumps prickling on my flesh. But the shower quickly heats up and starts filling the little room with steam.
The two of us climb into the shower, standing under the hot stream of water, our bodies flush together. As the moisture slides down my skin, Ivan drags his hands down my back to squeeze my ass, pulling me closer so that his now-slick cock prods me in the thigh. Then he spins me around and tugs me into him, his shaft hard on my ass. Ivan reaches around with both hands to massage my breasts, toying with my nipples, sending little shivers of pleasure down my spine and to my pussy.
My shoulders instantly relax as I lean my head back, tilting to the side slightly so that he can kiss me, the hot water hitting our faces. I reach behind myself to take his shaft in my hand, firmly stroking him and running my thumb over the crown. I feel Ivan shudder with satisfaction at my touch and that alone makes me want him. Now.
I turn back around to face Ivan, and I stand on tiptoe to kiss him, his tongue pushing into my mouth, his hand coming around to tangle in my damp hair. Then I let him guide me down onto my knees. I kneel before him, almost as though in supplication
After admiring the beauty of his engorged cock for a moment, I lean in and pull the head into my mouth, flicking my tongue along the underside. I pump his cock with both hands at first, my lips and tongue worshiping the crown of his glorious shaft. Ivan is moaning my name, and it’s the hottest thing I have ever heard in my life. His fingers are wrapped in my hair and I can feel him tugging at my head, trying to push me down on his cock. So I drop my hands and place them on my breasts, massaging my own nipples as I take as much of Ivan’s shaft into my mouth as possible. He is so big it almost hurts, but I crave the sensation of his hard cock pressed against the insides of my cheeks. I bob back and forth on his shaft, my tongue dragging slick lines along the underside.
“Oh, fuck,” Ivan grunts. “That’s so fucking good, kroshka. Your hot, wet mouth…”
Encouraged by his words, I push myself further, taking him into my mouth until the tip of his cock brushes the back of my throat. I can’t help but gag a little, and that only seems to stoke Ivan’s desire, as he lets out a moan and tightens his grip on my hair. I pump up and down his shaft, sucking him hard. He’s bucking his hips and murmuring my name and I know he must be close to coming.
Just then, he pushes me off and pulls me up to my feet again. Just as quickly, he spins me around and presses on my back to bend me over. Luckily, there is a lower railing for me to hold onto as he readies the tip of his cock at the entrance of my dripping cunt.
He rubs a teasing circle around my opening before growling, “Tell me you want it.”
“Oh God, I want it so bad,” I reply quickly, peering back at him over my shoulder and biting my lip. It’s been long enough that I know what he wants, too. “Fuck me.”
And then he shoves into me hard, my aching pussy enveloping his rigid, long spear. I cry out in pleasure as he grabs my hips and bounces me up and down against him, his shaft filling me up again and again. At this angle, bent over in the shower, he is able to perfectly hit that secret, sweet spot deep inside of me, and within a couple minutes I already feel my orgasm approaching.
“Oh God, Ivan, sir! Give it to me — oh God!” I wail, the delicious tension building rapidly.
“You dirty little slut,” he murmurs between gritted teeth. His fingers dig into my hips and I find myself hoping they leave marks there. I love it when he fucks me rough like this. I love admiring my bruises and love bites later, being reminded of how good it felt to receive them. And just like that, I come with a little involuntary squeal, throwing my head back in delight.
“Good girl,” Ivan croons, smacking my ass with a hard, wet slap. The stinging sensation only served to push me quickly into a second orgasm, which I released with another shriek.
My pussy gushes with honey and, still grasping the railing with one hand, I reach down between my legs to massage my clit. “I want more, please!” I beg. “Don’t stop!”
“What a hungry little cunt you have,” Ivan groans, slamming harder into me with every thrust. He squeezes my ass and reaches to grab my hair, pulling it so that my head yanks back. His cock rams into my g-spot again and again while my own fingers rub my sopping-wet clit. “You want more? Ask and receive.”
He picks up the pace, his cock spearing into me so quickly, so sharply, that I start to feel the good kind of hurt, and then I come for the third time. My pussy contracts around his cock and before long, Ivan’s thrusts become frenzied and loses its rhythm.
“Fuck!” he roars as he rips his shaft out of me and spills a long stream of hot seed across my back. The act sends a rush of pleasure through me as it washes away with the hot water, and he massages his cock as he lets the rest of his seed pour out over my back. I’m in and out of a daze as I feel his hands, warm even through the hot water, massaging my sides gently as I push myself upright again and lean against the shower wall, breathing heavily along with him before he wraps me in his arms and we linger in the cascading water together.
* * *
I’m at the bar of the Amber Room with Natalie that afternoon, and she’s pelting me with questions about what I’m suspecting is in store for me this w
eekend. It’s still early, and there’s hardly a soul to be seen out clubbing just yet, even if the St. Patrick’s Day crowd is still gathering in the sports bars and restaurants already.
“Well,” she rolls her hand in the air, asking for more. “What do you mean, ‘dropping hints’? Are we talking Post-It notes on your lunchbox, or what?”
I roll my eyes. “They’re hints, Nat, it isn’t like he’s spelling out what he wants to do for my birthday weekend.” And it is indeed that time of the year again. The past few weeks had been peppered with, well, cute little dates. I didn’t think this would be something I could expect from a criminal, but I have to admit, he’s good at making me forget what he does.
“Well, it was the French restaurant one night,” Natalie lists off, “and then he made you take that weekend off to go see some of the clubs uptown. So after all that, you think he’s planning something special? What the hell does ‘special’ mean to him?”
“I don’t know, but he seems to mention my birthday every now and then, so I can only guess he’s got something in mind,” I muse.
“Let’s see,” Natalie gets a playful look on her face, “are there any sports seasons happening? Maybe he’ll take you to a game.”
I wrinkle my nose, and Natalie laughs, obviously joking.
“Maybe out on a boat somewhere? Nice romantic tour over moonlit waters…!”
“Wish someone would take me out someplace nice like that,” Ashton calls across the room as she passes by with a tray full of glassware to clean for the night.
“And what’s your idea of a ‘fancy’ place, huh? You’d just want to go to Midtown as an excuse to go to the Olive Garden there,” Natalie shoots back teasingly. Ashton scoffs and tosses her hair indignantly.
“Well they do have the best one.”
After Ashton passes into the kitchen, Natalie rolls her eyes and lowers her voice to tell me, “I’m taking her to New Jersey next month.”
I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head to the side, a grin spreading across my face. “Oooh, Atlantic City? That’s romantic.”
“No, asshole,” she’s quick to rebut, pawing at me in annoyance, but her face goes the slightest shade of red as she adds, “My family’s down there, I want my parents to meet her.”
I feel my face spreading into a wide grin, and Natalie suddenly becomes very interested in cleaning the bar and avoiding my gaze, even if there is a suppressed smile tugging at her face. There’s a beat of silence before I break in.
“That’s adorable, Nat.”
“Shut up, boss.”
As I open my mouth to antagonize my employee a little more, the doors open, and I see Ivan striding in with a smile on his face. The moment Natalie recognizes him, she smirks and ducks off to busy herself with something away from the two of us.
“Ivan,” I start, stepping towards him with a smile, “you didn’t mention you’d be dropping by today—”
I’m cut off as Ivan steps up to me silently, takes my hand in his, and slips a single rose into it, closing my grasp around it as he looks down at me with a gaze full of what I soon realize is quiet excitement.
He still looks stony, but there’s a boyish energy under there I’ve come to recognize.
“Turn around,” he says, and blinking, I obey.
“Ivan, is this part of some-”
“Shush, it’s a surprise,” he cuts me off, and the next thing I know, he’s bringing the same strip of black blindfold from our New Year’s night together up and over my eyes, blindfolding me right there in the club. It’s not even my birthday yet!
14
Katy
A few minutes later, I’m sitting in the passenger’s seat of Ivan’s car and listening to the rumble of the engine as we go God-knows-where. Trying to lead me by the hand out of the club had worn out Ivan’s patience pretty fast, so I’d ended up being carried out in his arms all the way to the car.
And he still won’t tell me where we’re going.
“Now, now, Katy,” he chides after I ask him for what feels like the tenth time, “what good is the blindfold if you know?”
“Fine, fine,” I pout, crossing my arms, “but seriously, Ivan, I’m not dressed for anywhere fancy, okay?” And I’m not exaggerating. I’m wearing tight-fitting jeans, a red spaghetti-strap top with black lace, and a black knitted cardigan since all I was expecting out of tonight was a routine evening at the club.
After what feels like an hour drive, we pull up someplace where the sounds of traffic tell me we’re well into the city.
“Ivan,” I start as he helps me out of the car before sweeping me off my feet again, “seriously, this is really sweet and romantic but—”
“But nothing.”
He plucks the knot of the blindfold, letting it slide off easily and blinding me with the afternoon sunlight, but as my vision comes back to me and Ivan sets me back on my feet, I see what I’ve been led to.
We’re in Central Park, and there’s a horse and carriage standing expectantly in front of us. My jaw drops, more out of incredulity than anything else.
Oh. My. God. This has got to be the corniest thing in the entire world.
But despite myself, I’m covering a laughing smile with my hand as Ivan cocks his head at me, his heavy brow furrowing.
“You don’t like it.”
“No no, Ivan, I love it!” I laugh and wrap my arms around him, blushing half out of embarrassment and half out of how absurdly cute this otherwise terrifying man was trying to be. It was like he was studying romance movies just to figure out how to surprise me. Me! The girl that is technically his sex slave, but who he treats like a Goddess.
A few minutes later, the two of us are being wheeled around Central Park in the back of a carriage pulled like a couple of tourists fresh off the boat. Rather, Ivan is sitting in the carriage, and I’m squeezed into the space left over by his broad frame, despite his efforts to make room for me.
Sometime after I relinquish myself to being half-wrapped around his body in the seat to get comfortable, my hand is held in his. I look up at him with thoughtful eyes, and I see him looking out on the sights of the park with a genuine smile.
“So,” I finally ask, “why the park, of all places? Doesn’t seem like your usual style.”
He thinks for a moment before responding, “In truth, I’ve never seen the place, for all the time I’ve spent around the city.” He gives me a light squeeze and adds, “I wanted to share something new to me with you.”
To natives, the park isn’t much more than a place to be well clear of by sundown, but seeing someone genuinely taken with the place is kind of refreshing, in its own odd way. I look at him searchingly, like I’m trying to read into him as his dark blue eyes meet mine quizzically.
“Something on your mind?”
“It’s just...I can’t figure you out, Ivan,” I almost whisper, even as I hug his torso tight. “You do things like this for me that are so sweet I don’t even know what to do, but then…” I twirl a lock of my hair around a finger, knowing I’m treading into dangerous territory. The stiff feeling of his arm around me tells me as much, but I press on, nonetheless. “Sometimes I think about what you do when you’re away. Even when we’re together sometimes, I notice when you leave the room to take some phone call, speaking in Russian. And those nights when you slip out of bed when you think I’m sleeping.”
I’m looking up at him now, and his eyes are locked on mine with a warning gaze.
“Do not ask me about my work, Katy,” he says evenly.
“I don’t mean it like that,” I breathe, putting a hand up to his face. He takes my wrist in his hand, and we’re frozen there for a moment before I continue. “Where does this side of you come from, Ivan?” I finally let out.
Ivan’s expression slowly begins to soften. A few months ago, this line of questioning would have earned me a sharp reprimand, but now, he lets go of my hand and lets it finish its course to his face, and I touch the hardened man’s cheek as if it were a statue.
He closes his eyes a moment, then looks back out into the trees, where a few families are enjoying scattered picnics or walks in the fresh springtime air.
“Katy, I’ve always kept you well away from my… usual business.”
He turns to look down at me. “I keep it that way because you bring something out in me that’s different, Katy. I don’t know quite how to say it, but I see things differently with you.” He looks down at his hands for a moment, his brow furrowed as though he’s struggling to find the words. “I do not regret the things these hands do. You know that. But when I’m with you,” he looks back up to me, and I want to melt into his arms, “that feels so far away.”
He suddenly straightens himself up a bit and rubs the back of his neck. “But I know this is only a transaction to you. To me — don’t say anything,” he cuts me off as my mouth opens to speak, “I don’t blame you in the least. But even if this is temporary…”
He takes my hands in one of his before withdrawing a little gray box from his coat pocket. My eyes widen as he opens it, revealing a sapphire pendant hanging from a white gold chain. It’s absolutely gorgeous.
“I just want to thank you for being my light, solnishka.”
I gingerly take the pendant from him, holding it in my hands with awe and care, as though it’s a newborn child or something. I’ve never touched something so beautiful, so valuable. The sapphire glitters in my palm and I stare at it open-mouthed, almost afraid to move.
Ivan chuckles, which breaks me out of my reverie. He takes the pendant from me and, holding it up expectantly, asks, “May I?”
After a moment of shocked hesitation, I nod vigorously and lift my hair off my neck so that he can reach around and fasten the necklace around my neck. I look down at the sparkling gem nested on my collarbone and have to stifle an embarrassed smile at how badly it clashes with my too-casual red tank top. It’s sort of like putting a diamond tiara on a clump of dirt.
But when I glance up at Ivan, he’s got this starry look in his eyes. Even though his mouth is still set in a hard line, the warmth in his shining eyes softens his whole expression. He might as well be beaming. “You are beautiful,” he says.
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