Four under the Mistletoe: A MFMM Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 2)

by Tia Siren

  “Take her downstairs,” she heard Grigori say as she was hauled from the trunk. Her legs scraped along the ground as she was dragged along. The man held her in one arm, opened a door, and carried her down a set of stone steps into a basement.

  “Should I tie her up, boss?” he shouted upstairs.

  “Tie her to the roof support,” Grigori shouted back.

  The basement had four posts that supported the upper floor. Lucy found herself tied to one of them a few minutes later.

  “You're so pretty,” the man said as he put the finishing touches to the knot that held her in place. “How an ugly fucker like Lenny could produce a daughter like you, I have no idea. Your mother must have been Cleopatra,” he joked. Her mouth still covered by tape, Lucy wasn't able to reply.

  *****

  Lucy lost track of time. She knew it had been around half past four in the afternoon when they kidnapped her, but there were no windows in the basement, and she had no way of seeing if it was dark or light. After a time, she decided to close her eyes and try to sleep, but her mind was so active that she didn't manage to drop off. All she could think about was how her father was and what these despicable men were going to do to her. She could take a beating, but she was desperately worried by the big man's comments about how pretty she looked. Was he going to help himself to her?

  When the light came on she blinked uncontrollably. She heard someone coming down the stairs and held her breath, wondering what was about to happen to her.

  “Here,” Grigori said as he handed her a cup of water. He tore the tape from her mouth and noticed it had caused a rash on her top lip and chin. Lucy guzzled the water, spilling some of it on her blouse.

  “What time is it?” she asked. For some reason time seemed important.

  “Half past ten. Do you want some food?”

  “How long do you propose to keep me here?” she asked.

  “For as long as it takes your father to come up with the money he owes me.”

  “And how much is that?”

  “Five hundred grand.” Grigori sat down on an old sofa in the corner of the room and looked at her. He too wondered how Lenny had managed to produce such a pretty daughter. He knew her mother couldn’t have been Irish, because Lucy had tanned skin and dark hair, and the Irish, he always joked, were ginger and pasty.

  “But he won't be able to find that kind of money,” she said.

  “How many houses does he own?”

  “Five.”

  “They are enormous places, each worth at least a million. All he has to do is sell one and pay me.”

  “But it's not a good time to sell real estate; it could take forever,” Lucy said.

  “Then you can look forward to growing old down here.”

  She fixed her eyes on him in a death stare. “You're heartless. I bet your mother didn't bring you up to treat women like you are treating me.”

  “What mother? I was given away when I was a baby. My mother didn't give a shit about me.”

  “Untie me, please. This rope is cutting me. I won't do anything stupid,” she pleaded.

  He got up, walked to her, and took out a knife. In one swift movement he cut through the rope and pulled it from her. Lucy rubbed her wrists, which were red and developing the same rash she had on her face. “Are you really going to keep me all that time?”

  “Yes. You'll stay here until he pays.”

  “The cops—”

  “Fuck the cops. Do you think the cops will do anything? I pay them to do what I want,” he snarled.

  If he hadn't been so brutal to her, she would have found him enormously attractive. He was tall and athletic looking. His dark hair was cropped and his Slavic features were fine. The most attractive thing about him were his eyes. When she looked at him, she was lost in a sea of green.

  “Let me go, please. What can I possibly do to you? I'm just a young woman trying to get an art degree.”

  “Where is your mother?” he asked.

  “Dead,” she replied.

  “How?” he asked, expressing no sympathy.

  “Car crash. She was Spanish. She went to see her mother in Madrid and never came back to us.” Lucy's mind flashed back to the day the policeman had called at their house and told them what had happened. The tormented look on her father's face had stayed with her ever since.

  “Too bad. I'm sorry to hear that. How long ago?”

  “Three years.”

  “I don't know what it's like to have parents. I was a Moscow street kid until I was fifteen, and then I came to the US.”

  Lucy got up and walked a few steps. She needed to stretch, and as she bent to touch her toes, Grigori looked at her. She was wearing tight jeans, and they stretched over her body when she bent over, showing the most perfect ass he'd ever seen. He liked to think of himself as a professional criminal, the kind of man who could kidnap a beautiful woman and ignore the treasures she had to offer. But in Lucy, he found out he was, after all, fallible.

  Lucy sat down on the sofa next to him and considered how quickly she could thrust her long nails into his eyes. Was it worth trying? Maybe, she thought, but she decided to see whether she was able to talk her way out of her predicament first.

  “Why did you come to the US?” she asked.

  “Opportunity. I wanted to get rich.”

  “And you are, but aren't you ashamed of yourself?”

  He looked shocked by her question. “No. Why would I be?”

  “Because you haven't become rich by hard work or ingenuity. You've bludgeoned your way to wealth by threatening people, scaring them, and who knows, probably even killing a few of them. That's a dishonorable way, a way that gains no respect.”

  His face darkened, and Lucy thought he was going to slap her. “What would you have done if you'd lived on the streets in Moscow, freezing to death? Nobody gave me a start in life like you have had. I had to fend for myself. Whacking people was all I knew, and it got me to where I am today.”

  *****

  “Where is the bitch?” Lucy heard a woman scream. The light went on, and Lucy sheltered her eyes. There was the sound of women's shoes on the stairs and then the sound of somebody following her.

  “Ah, so here she is,” the woman said. She was around thirty and thin. She was rather goth-like in her appearance. Her hair was jet black, and her eye shadow matched it. Her lipstick was very dark, and she wore a ring on each finger. Lucy took an instant dislike to her. “Why the fuck isn't she tied up?” she said in her Russian-American dialect.

  “Because she can't go anywhere and her wrists are hurt,” Grigori replied.

  “Who are you?” Lucy asked.

  The woman slapped Lucy's face, causing her to stagger backward. “Don't you dare ask me any questions. If I want you to know anything, I'll tell you. Understand?” Lucy nodded, her hand over her stinging face. “Pretty, isn't she?” she said.

  “Very attractive,” Grigori said.

  “Don't you go fucking her or I'll kill you.”

  Lucy flew into a rage. Who the hell did she think she was? She wrapped her arms around the woman and rolled her onto the floor in a perfect wrestler’s throw. The woman was stunned when she hit the ground hard. “Don't you talk like that. You may have the advantage over me now, but when this is over, I'll find you,” Lucy hissed, her knee across the woman's throat.

  “Get the bitch off me,” the woman shouted.

  Grigori pulled Lucy away and put her on the sofa. The woman got up gingerly and stretched her back. Without saying anything, she walked back up the stairs and slammed the door.

  “That was very brave,” Grigori said.

  “Who the fuck is she?”

  “That's my girlfriend, Natasha.”

  “You have a girlfriend like that? Jesus, Grigori, what the hell were you thinking when you hooked up with her? She's a bitch, and she's ugly.”

  Grigori remained silent, and Lucy got the impression she'd hit the nail on the head. He didn't appear to be very fond of her
either. “She's dangerous,” he said.

  “What do you care? You're the most dangerous man in New York.”

  “No. There is one man more dangerous than me. That's her father, Iakov Sheludko.”

  “You Russians are so fucked up,” she said angrily. “Listen, Grigori, stop playing games. Let me go. It'll do you no good keeping me here.”

  “Not until your father has paid his debt. I told you.”

  Lucy had spent the time between Grigori's visits deliberating whether to offer herself to him in exchange for her freedom. He was a very handsome man, just her type, and although not the kind of thing she wanted to do, with him she thought it would be bearable. What her father would think of her if she did that, she didn't know.

  “Grigori, do you think I'm attractive?” she began. He looked at her quizzically.

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because I think you're hot. How about it? I'll let you fuck me if you set me free afterward.” She slid next to him on the sofa and put her hand on his leg. “Imagine how nice it would be to feel my firm ass and look at my pert breasts,” she said as her hand slid up toward his bulge.

  He took a sharp breath, and she could feel the material in his jeans moving. “No,” he said as his hand slammed onto hers. He pulled her arm away and stood up.

  “Look,” she said. She began to open the buttons on her blouse. He watched until she reached the fourth button. When her bra came into view, she noticed a considerable swelling in between his legs.

  “Stop,” he said.

  “You can have me all,” she added.

  He turned away and walked up the stairs. When the light went out, Lucy lay on the sofa and cried. What was she doing? she asked herself. But she was now more convinced than ever that it was the only way to get out of the mess she was in.

  An hour later Natasha came back downstairs. This time she was carrying a rope and a gun. “Stand against the pillar, over there,” she said, pointing the gun at Lucy. She obviously wasn't going to chance being overpowered again. Lucy did as she was asked. Natasha held the gun to Lucy's face and ripped open Lucy's blouse. “Ah, what secrets are you hiding under here?” she said as she rubbed the tip of the gun over her bra.

  “Fuck off, you moron,” Lucy said.

  “No need to be impolite,” Natasha said.

  “Take off your pants.”

  Lucy looked at her and wondered whether she was bisexual.

  “Do it,” she shouted when Lucy didn't move.

  Lucy reluctantly lowered her pants and stepped out of them. Natasha picked them up and took her blouse from her. She tied Lucy to the pillar and looked at her. “Now you won't be able to escape,” she said.

  Upstairs, Grigori was sitting at the kitchen table, unable to get the image of Lucy's bra from his mind. She was so beautiful, soft and gentle looking, yet she stood her corner and was tough. Just the thought of her lying naked under him as he thrust into her made him hard.

  “We'll kill her if her father hasn't paid before the end of the week,” Natasha said when she arrived in the kitchen.

  “Are you fucking mental? As far as I know you're not a retard, are you?” Grigori said. “We can't kill her.”

  “You asshole. You've thought nothing of killing people before, for much less. Just because she's beautiful, you don't want to shoot her. Well, I will.”

  Grigori got up from his chair and took her by the throat. “If you touch her, I'll kick your ass so hard you won't sit down for weeks.”

  “And what will my daddy say about that?” she asked as he held her against the wall.

  “That's all you can do, isn't it? Run to daddy every time. Well, there will be a day when he's not here anymore.”

  “And what are you saying? Are you going to kill him?”

  Grigori didn't reply. “I'm gonna see what you've done to her, and if it's bad, I'll put an end to you.”

  “Fuck you, Grigori. You're nothing but a two-bit gangster. You’re an asshole, and I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing with you.”

  “Well fuck off then,” he shouted. He took her by the hair and pulled her from the kitchen, through the hallway, and out into the front yard. He walked back inside, took her car keys from the hook next to the door, and threw them at her. “Fuck off and don't come back, you ugly bitch.”

  *****

  “I'm sorry,” Grigori said as he untied Lucy. “I'll fetch a robe for you.” Before he went upstairs, he stopped and looked at her standing in just her bra and panties. He was disappointed in himself when his cock once more began to stiffen at the sight of her. “She's a bitch,” he said when he arrived back with the bathrobe. He held it out for her, and she slipped into it.

  “You know my offer still stands. We could have a nice time together,” she said.

  “Lucy, you are more beautiful than any woman I've ever seen, and I would like nothing more, but it's not right. When you father pays, as he will, you can go.”

  She realized she actually wanted him to say yes to her proposal. She was shocked by the thoughts she was having. She was beginning to have fantasies about the man who only a day ago had put a gun into her father's mouth.

  “Sleep on the sofa,” Grigori said. “You won't be tied up again.”

  When he left, she lay down and wondered what it would take to get him to accept what she wanted. Maybe she should take her clothes off the next time she heard him coming downstairs.

  Grigori had a shower and got into bed. When his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep, exhausted by the incident with Natasha. When he woke, it was 2 a.m. and his cock was painfully hard. That often happened in the morning when he woke, but this erection wasn't like those. This was real arousal. His cock was telling him he needed to fuck her, and he needed to fuck her now. He would fuck her and let her go.

  He got out of bed and went downstairs. Naked and fully erect, he unlocked the basement door and crept down the stairs. He fumbled around in the dark until he found her. He slipped an arm under her upper body and another under the crook of her knees. When he lifted her up, she woke. She didn't scream or make any kind of protest. She knew why he was there, and she wanted to be free.

  “I want to fuck you,” he said as he carried her up the stairs toward the light.

  “And then you'll set me free?”

  “Yes. In the morning.”

  “I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me,” she said.

  “You're so fucking hot, I can't. I just have to have you. It's wrong, but I can't help myself.”

  Lucy let her hand fall to his groin and began to stroke his hard cock as it bounced up and down in rhythm with his steps. “You're a big boy, aren't you?” she whispered. His breathing became noticeably heavier, and his step quickened.

  “Take me to the bathroom,” she said. “I've been down there for a day and a half, and I need a shower.”

  He carried her into the en-suite and put her down. “I'm waiting. Don't be long,” he said.

  The bathroom was like everything else in the house, luxurious. The floor was made of marble, and the shower was a double walk-in. She turned the water on and threw her robe on the floor.

  Under the hot water, she began to relax. She wondered if at some point in the future she would regret giving herself to a criminal just to secure her release. It was a seedy thing to do, but what choice did she have? He was attractive, and she thought she might even enjoy it. She knew her dad would go crazy if he knew, but he never would. She would tell him Grigori had changed his mind. It even occurred to her that she might be able to get him to forgive her father's debts, or at least a large part of them. All she was doing was what thousands of women before her had done: using her beauty to overpower a man. “Pussy power,” she said under her breath. She laughed but then suddenly stopped when she realized how precarious her position still was.

  When she was finished, she opened the door and walked into the bedroom, naked. He was lying on the bed with his arm's folded behind his head. His cock was still as hard as
it had been when he'd picked her up.

  “You really want me, don't you?” she said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Your cock's been hard since you came to see me. That's been about twenty minutes now.”

  “Is it surprising? I mean look at you. You're perfect.”

  He was perfect too, she thought. His long legs were bronzed and covered in fine dark hair. She stepped toward him and ran her hand from his ankle to his calf, feeling the coarseness of his hairs and the tightness of his trained muscles. When her hand reached his upper thigh, he groaned, and she saw his penis twitch. His cock was long and straight. Lucy had seen a lot of naked men, usually as models in art classes, but Grigori's penis was more arousing than any penis she'd seen before. It was pretty, in as far as a cock could be pretty. She ran her hand from the outside of his leg and cupped his balls.

  “Jesus, that's nice,” he said.

  They felt coarse and heavy. She began to massage them, gently flicking her nails across his delicate skin, teasing him, making his arousal unbearable. She gently took his shaft in her hand and rubbed up and down its length. She loved the expression on his face as she helped herself to him. She continued to rub his length as her hand left his balls and rubbed over his hard stomach, up to his bulging chest. He had no chest hair, and she enjoyed the feel of rubbing her hand freely over his skin. When her hand moved over him, she felt his muscles respond in tiny waves of excitement.

  She got onto the bed and straddled him, all the time rubbing him, making him groan. “Put me inside you,” he moaned, unable to last much longer. The sight of her slender body on him and her large breasts moving in time to the actions of her hand was too much. All he could think of was taking her.

  “Not so fast. I want to enjoy it,” she said.

  “But I'm so close,” he moaned. “You don't know what you do to me.” She took her hand from him and lay down next to him. When she opened her legs, he knew what she wanted.

  She gasped when he rolled between her legs and kissed her soft folds. She'd expected a man like him to unleash a bruising onslaught when he licked her, but he was gentle, expertly teasing her to the edge and letting her hang. “Let me come,” she said impatiently when it became unbearable. He took more of her into his mouth and worked her with his tongue. When she came, she scratched his shoulders and thrashed her legs over his back.