Saved by the Outlaw: A Bad Boy Romance

by Alexis Abbott

  From my position I can’t see much. All I can see is Dimitri’s upper body, the look of rage on his face that was more fearsome than Slava’s ever was. And those two working arms of his don’t stop.

  I can’t see Slava, but slowly I start to hear the world around me again, and the sickening sounds of fists impacting bone and flesh are filling the air. The cracks, the meaty thuds. Blood spatters into the air as Dimitri keeps going, his assault is unrelenting. Catching Slava atop me, hurting me, had let loose a caged animal that was starving. Starving for vengeance.

  When at last I fainted, all I can remember is the gory sight of Dimitri, caked in blood and gore, and knowing that Slava must already be long dead.

  A warm cloth on my forehead wakes me, Dimitri’s bloodied face the first thing I see. It’s not his blood, though. I know that. It’s Slava’s.

  I glance to the side, a blanket draped over a body as his blood stains the expensive rug, pooling out beneath him. My heart begins racing again, and I look up at Dimitri with wide eyes.

  “Shh,” he coaxes, his words gentle. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  I’m not sure what it is that comes over me. Gratitude, maybe, or something far more primal than that. I lunge for Dimitri’s mouth, and he stills, uncertain. Seconds pass, my arms wrapping around him, tugging him in closer.

  He growls, animalistic, before he easily picks me up off the floor and carries me into the next room. I’m helpless in his arms, my pain only numbed by my need to feel his body crushing mine. I need to feel alive, pain or no pain, and when he flings me to the couch and strips off his shirt, I know he feels the same way.

  We’re so grateful to be back in one another’s arms, safe, and all that fear and worry oozes out of us into the thick need to screw.

  Emotions are all connected in weird ways, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself in my defense. But the panic of nearly being beaten to death, the horror of watching my lover snuff the life from my assailant, it flows from one to the other so well, then blends seamlessly into my need for Dimitri. A physical, carnal need.

  My back is bruised and hurting, but that doesn’t matter as he wraps his arms around me, holds me tight and kisses me deep. Those same powerful arms that had beaten a man into a bloody pulp now held me, and instead of mere revulsion, I felt comforted by it.

  Through all my snooping and brazen prying, he had my back. Protected me. He went after the man who hurt me with more of a fiery vengeance that I could’ve imagined before now.

  So I feel his hard body, hear the beat of his heart, and feel him tremble with rising need. His masculine rage turning to passion as quickly as my horror at his brutality turned to a need to screw.

  My mouth goes down his jaw as my hands grab at his belt quickly undoing it. I am still sore, but more than that, I am aching to have him. To feel his hard, throbbing member against me. To thank him for protecting me.

  Here we are, in this opulent manor, blood stained and messy as he hurriedly tugs off his belt, pulled open his trousers. That thick, throbbing shaft of his lies beneath the dark bulge in his boxer-briefs, and he yanks open my top. Those strong, hard hands grope at my chest, pulls my bra open, as I tug down his underwear and let that meaty shaft rise out, free and hard.

  I hiss in a breath of pain as I push against him, and he looks concerned for a split second before my hand wraps around his cock, pumping it in my fist. I’m hurt, but more than anything else, I need this. Him. Carnally.

  I tug him back to the floor, wanting more room to move and grind against him. It’s messed up, but as he rolls to his back, I shimmy down his body, my mouth quickly wrapping around the head of his dick. It’s my way of saying thank you, I guess. My way of letting him know how much I appreciate him saving my life.

  Those are the selfless reasons.

  The selfish ones are way too complicated for me to figure out right now.

  His strong, stained hands go to my head, and he curls his fingers into my hair as my mouth goes down his shaft. His jaw juts out as he gives a low groan, tilting his head back as his cock swells with excitement.

  The light scent of his masculine musk fills my nostrils as it wafts from his tuft of pubic hair. His thick girth bulging, its veiny mass stretching my mouth open wider, forcing my jaw back, proving himself to be more a mouthful than I was reckoning on.

  He threatens my gag reflex, but I fight it. Thick saliva coats my mouth, lubricating his cock as my eyes water. It’s so good, so perfect, and I stay there for a moment longer before pulling back, drawing air in through my nose.

  It’s only a second before I push back down again and feel him press against the back of my throat.

  It’s definitely the most poorly timed sexual escapade of my life, as short as the list is. But he’s reclining back on one arm as the other holds my head, tangled into my hair at the back of my neck. His powerful arm helping guide me, urging me on as I do my best to shower my savior with affection.

  His eyes are shut I notice when I flutter my long lashes and glance up at him. That chiseled face of his, those rugged good looks, marred by pleasures of the flesh, and a low, guttural groan escapes his lips.

  My one hand goes to his abs, feeling along his muscles with appreciation as my other hand dips lower, between his thighs. I touch along his sack, my motions cautious and uncertain as my tongue wiggles along the underside of his cock.

  In one hand I feel the hard, sculpted abs of his well-honed body, the other his one weak point. The one area on Dimitri that isn’t guarded and tough. I roll those sensitive balls along my slender digits, tease them as he groans and moans. He’s a caged lion as he rests beneath me, his body shifting, wanting to push me off and claim me, but he lets me have my fun. Lets me please him at my own pace, as torturous as that is.

  His every husky moan a delightful encouragement, his every eager push at the back of my head a sign of how much he enjoys my mouth upon him and wants more.

  I know it’s all about his pleasure, and about making him happy, but at the same time... it’s turning me on more than I could have imagined. He tastes sweet and a little salty, and every beat of his heart passes through him to throb against my tongue. It’s intimate, and dirty, and I can’t get enough.

  I push myself down further, feel a slight ache at the back of my throat, and more thick saliva coats his member. I bounce off it for a second, looking up at him in his pleasured state. He’s rendered docile by my mouth alone, and it makes me feel powerful as I push my lips back along his cock.

  Slava couldn’t beat him, the thugs who abducted me couldn’t, but by the power of my warm mouth and moist tongue, I brought the mighty Dimitri to heel. He’s a twitching, moaning mass of muscle beneath me, and I baste his cock with my tongue lashes, fondle his heavy, cum-laden balls with my soft, delicate fingers.

  My hand pushes up along his stomach, and a stray glance at those chiseled abs let me soak in how glorious they look. A light sheen of perspiration from his savage rescue makes them gleam, and I can’t help but rake my nails over them, make him squirm a little from the teasingly harsh contrasted to the delightfully soothing of my mouth.

  To make a man like Dimitri moan so fully, it’s such a buzz, a high like doing drugs, I imagine.

  I moan, my body begins to grind against his wantonly. My legs straddle his calf, my bare chest rubbing across his thighs as I start losing myself more and more in the act. I barely know what I’m doing, nature having taken its course, but it’s affecting me so quickly.

  I remove my hand from his stomach, briefly bringing my fingers between my legs, petting myself for only a second over my pants.

  Dimitri looks up at me, and as he watches me touch myself he seems to lose control.

  In a swift, smooth motion, he rises up through the strength in his core muscles alone. He grabs a hold of my pants, yanks them open then tugs them down. He pushes me off of him, rolls me over onto my back on the floor, and frees me of panties along with my pants.

  He’s rave
nous, and he lunges for my lips as he grasps my thighs in each hand, splaying my legs open wide as his saliva-glistening cock jabs at my slit. He’s a wild animal, savage and lust filled. And I’m his next prey.

  When he thrusts into me, though, it’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven. I moan and arch my back, my body aching with need and the bruises of my beating.

  I can still see the spatter of blood on his face and chest, the ruby stains on his hands. I saw how ruthlessly he dispatched Slava.

  But it didn’t repulse me. It didn’t scare me away.

  It just made me want him more. To know how dangerous, how ruthless he is, and to know that it’s all been to protect me.

  “Dimitri!” I cry out, my back rubbing against the marble flooring.

  It’s not lovey-dovey sex, it’s not romantic love making, it’s raw, hard fucking. It’s brutal, it’s savage, it’s something that no civilized people should have the opportunity to experience any more in our day and age. But it’s driving me wild!

  Dimitri takes hold of my hips as he pounds into me, those powerful hands gripping my body as he makes me shake and scream, hammering that thick cock into me harder, harder. Moments before he was furiously pounding Slava’s face in, now he’s furiously rutting into me, and every pulse of his heart is a throb of his thick cock inside me, and I want it.

  I want it all.

  So maybe I’m a sinner just like him. Maybe I am damned or corrupted by his influence.

  But I would throw away everything I have for him. I’d give everything up, would sacrifice it all, for this.

  My head is foggy, my screams filling the villa, and the deeper he pounds into me, the more I yearn for him. I want him all. His kisses, his gentleness, and his brutality as well.

  A shiver travels up and down my spine, and my whole body wriggles beneath him as I moan and cry out. Why? Not just the pleasure or pain of his hard, thrusting cock. Though that was enough to already make me squirm beneath him.

  It was the sound. The wet sound of our flesh pounding together as he hammers between my thighs, thrusting his dick into my depths. That fleshy sound so eerily similar to the noises his fist made when he was brutally murdering a man in my defense.

  The continuity of those sounds, of our depraved fucking, it all makes me heady with lust and I writhe almost away from him. But he reaches out, grasps my neck and holds me in place, forcing his lips to mine as he kisses me hard.

  It scares me; it turns me on. My arms wrap around his neck, my nails digging into his flesh as I arch my back into him. Each thrust brings a spark of pain and pleasure, but this is about something more than just an orgasm.

  This is about a connection. Acknowledging the very real truth about who we are to one another, and reveling in it. Our masks are cast aside, and even as his hand tightens around my throat just enough for me to really feel it, I know I’ve found the only man who could ever make me his.

  How could I ever hope to find a man who would make me feel like this? Who could share such highs and lows of my life with? Fuck, I hope I never meet another man to go through these trying moments with!

  Dimitri got me through, and the feeling of him inside me, filling me, making me so whole… it is bliss. And the awful, brutal events that led us here are nothing but fuel to our passions. My body shakes, my breasts rock and jiggle, and he grasps one, sinks his fingers into that fleshy mound as he pumps himself into me. Fucks me harder, faster, squeezes my neck tighter.

  We’ve both lost our grip on reality, sanity blurring with the absolute craziness as his mouth presses against mine angrily. The passion between us is like fire, and it’s consuming us both. We’ve thrown caution to the wind, and soared higher than I could ever have imagined.

  My knees are bent up in the air as he pushes me down into the floor, my hips angled as he leans down into me. The loud slap of his balls against my ass resounding as he pummels me with that thick, throbbing cock. He bites my lower lip, and I bite him back.

  I rake my nails over his chest, he squeezes my throat. I clench my pussy around his cock and he tugs my hair.

  We’re out of control, rutting like beasts as he grunts and groans, and I squeal and moan.

  But inevitably we barrel towards our pleasured ends with one another. He’s fast approaching his climax as he shudders above me.

  Our bodies mash together, and I cling to him so tightly. His chest presses into mine, separated only by a thin film of sweat.

  And now he finally hits that brink, his hand dips down, finding my clit, and he aggressively forces me over the edge as well. It takes so little, just the ruthless, almost angry touch of his rough finger against my throbbing, needful bud, and I lose all control.

  My warm juices flood him, our bodies uniting in the most heavenly and sinful act imaginable.

  While I spasm and squirm, writhing about in pleasure, he stiffens like a board, forcing me into place as he pumps me full of his seed. That hard body jackhammering a single, last thrust into my pussy as he unloads all his cum into my depths, making me quiver and shake. Making me the receptacle for all his passions. His virile spunk.

  Until finally, finally, his powerful form gives way and he collapses atop me, resting on my body as we both pant and desperately try to catch our breaths.

  I can feel that something vital has changed between us, something important.

  And yet still, as he comes down from his explosive high, he turns loving, with gentle kisses and appreciative sounds. He’s a savage thug, a ruthless mafia killer. But then in the after throes of our passionate rutting, he’s tender again. And caring.

  Always in those after moments, he’s the kindest I’ve ever seen him. And I get to bask in the radiant warmth of his affections.

  Though coming back down to reality leads to questions that may be dirtier than our sex. Like Slava’s body in the other room.

  Dimitri forces me into the bedroom for the rest of the night. He doesn’t want me to see what he’s about to do, and despite the passion of our love making, there’s some things that even I don’t want to have to know.

  I’m exhausted as is, and for the first time since we arrived, I truly feel safe. Protected.

  As I lay back on the bed, my eyes heavy, my body sore, I drift off, imagining our wedding.

  30

  My feet ache from running all around the city, getting our wedding photos done, but honestly, I’m so excited to get them developed. The ceremony was amazing, if a little over the top, but I’m most excited for the toasts. Since Dimitri and I are now parentless, he promised me something special.

  Music plays as the crowd arrives to the restaurant, the lights dim and give off a pale, purple glow. I still can’t believe we’re finally married, and my hands run self-consciously over the baby bump that’s just starting to show beneath my wedding gown.

  “You look great,” Dimitri says for the tenth time today, his hand drawing mine away as he leans in and kisses my cheek. “Don’t fret about it, my wife.”

  I’m still not used to hearing him say that, and it sends a shiver of excitement through me.

  More and more people enter the room, finding their seating, and then the room goes silent. An old man, probably in his sixties, enters along with a woman draped in pearls and fur. Even Dimitri quiets down, sitting a bit taller, and so I follow suit.

  When the man goes to the podium and I see the twinkle in Dimitri’s eye, I know this is important to him.

  “My friends, colleagues. Strangers.” The crowd laughs politely, even Joanna. She must sense something about him too.

  “For those who don’t know me, I’m Aleksey Dmitriev, and I absolutely warned Dimitri against this wedding.”

  My heart stops, until Aleksey looks right at me and smiles.

  “That was before I knew what type of woman Sarah Fairfax really is. The courage, the fire within her, reminds me of my own beautiful wife, Inga. When Dimitri asked me for my blessing, I refused. When he asked again, I knew he was serious. I still refused. But when he tol
d me that she’s truly the one, and explained why... I gave my blessing without him asking. So this is to the happy couple. May they forever find themselves in the embrace of family.”

  He looks back at the crowd, and Dimitri squeezes my hand.

  Two servers come up, pouring up a shot glass of Russian vodka for him, and water for me. We clink glasses and take the shot, but as soon as I swallow the crowd erupts in chants.

  “Gorko! Gorko!”

  I look at Dimitri and he grabs my jaw, bringing my mouth to his before invading my lips with his tongue. The entire restaurant cries out with joy and their clapping sounds like an earthquake. When Dimitri finally breaks the kiss, the taste of vodka is gone with him.

  Aleksey smiles, and raises his own shot glass before downing his vodka, returning to his toast.

  “I knew Dimitri’s father well. We came up together. I respected him, but I do not give respect freely. Rebecca, Dimitri’s mother, was cunning. Clever. When she was killed by that snake, Slava, he crossed us. He forgot what family meant to me. To us! But Dimitri and Sarah know, better than most, what family means.” There’s a hidden joke there, and I can’t help but flush at the reminder.

  “To the lovely bride, and the handsome groom. To their lost parents, and their found family.”

  The crowd claps again, and Dimitri kisses against my ear as the band takes the stage. He grabs my hand, dragging me upwards and towards the dance floor.

  “Our first dance as husband and wife,” I say with a glee I couldn’t have anticipated, and he’s just as thrilled. The song is one we picked out together, a beautiful, voiceless piece of classical music that reverberates through our bones.

  My arms wrap around his neck, his arms around my waist, and all eyes are on us as we dance.

  “This is amazing, Dimitri.”

  His mouth presses against my forehead.

  “It’s no less than you deserve.”