by D. A. Young
He gathered her in his arms and rolled onto his back, Kat splayed on top of him, still connected. When he could finally speak, Holt managed to gasp, “No words, baby.”
“It was well worth the wait,” Kat huffed, giving a contented yawn. She crossed her arms and rested her head on top of them, waiting for her heartrate to slow down.
“I think you and me need to cut all ties and relationships to the outside world right now, ‘cause we’re never comin’ up for air. We got the holy trinity right here: me, you, and a bed.”
With a giggle, Kat pressed kisses to his chest and neck. “Silly! That’s going to be hard to do when we’re expected for brunch tomorrow at my parents’ house.”
“Guess we’ll postpone it for afterward then.”
“We didn’t use anything, babe.”
He’d filled her with enough cum to populate a small village. The possibility that even now they could be procreating didn’t exactly terrify Holt. In fact, it turned him on a little.
“Should we? I’m not gettin’ any younger. If there are gonna be little Katerinas runnin’ around keepin’ me on my toes, we’d best start sooner rather than later.”
“How about we play it by ear?” Kat sighed with contentment, wiggling shamelessly on his cock. The action caused Holt to instantly harden inside of her once more.
“Fine by me. Can you take me again, love?”
“God, yes.”
“Then fuck me, min drottning.”
Holt leaned over and grabbed her crown. He shifted so he was lying against the headboard and Kat straddling him, already rocking tentatively, testing out her power. Holt’s toes curled with every spasm her pussy made as he carefully adjusted her crown atop her disarrayed curls. She was breathtaking with his love marks already forming on her nubile body. He cupped Kat’s face and nipped at her lower lip, sighing as she wove her fingers into his hair. She lifted up then slowly sank down onto his rigid length, reveling in the string of expletives Holt released. His hands gripped her waist, controlling the tempo. Kat wouldn’t be contained. Sex with him, she was learning, was a recklessly religious experience. Lips meeting in open-mouthed kisses, Kat rode her husband. Fiercely. Slowly. Exquisitely. Nastily. When his fingers dipped between her ass cheeks and shook her control, the battle for dominance was on. Groans that were loud, gritty, and unabashed, filled the air. His wife put his fucking pussy on him so good, Holt was blinking sweat from his eyes and suddenly unsure of who was fucking whom and finally surrendered completely to his ruin.
The entire time, Kat’s crown never fell.
It tilted but remained, always, in its rightful place.
***
Holt insisted Kat soak instead of showering with him.
With a petulant frown, she indulged him, eyes caressing him from head to toe as he washed every inch of his ripped body. When he was done, Holt slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms and administered a kiss and warning for Kat before he disappeared.
“Sit your ass in that tub, Mrs. Brammer. I’ll be back soon.”
When he returned, Holt assisted Kat out of the tub and slowly dried her, pausing frequently to place strategic kisses all over her body. Kisses guaranteed to fire up her blood while he smoothed Kat’s favorite body butter into her satiny flesh. Her stomach growled, and they both laughed.
“Crap! I’m starving and we were in such a hurry that we forgot to take anything to go.”
“Darlin’, did you think we were messin’ with amateurs? Noelle gave my mama a picnic basket of everythin’ that she made, and our fridge is well-stocked. Come and enjoy.”
Kat slipped on her white silk robe, a wedding present from Casey and Sidra. The back read ‘Mrs. Brammer’. Casey had balked at such a gift, but Sidra made him purchase it today and have it embroidered for their sister’s most special occasion.
Her husband wholly approved. “Lookin’ good, baby.”
While Kat was soaking, Holt had replaced the sheets. After the way he’d loved on her, he’d been relieved to only see a small stain of blood. Slices of their wedding cheesecake on a tray, along with champagne and two flutes, were waiting on his dresser. Kat wrapped her arms around his waist. “Have I told you that you’re the love of my life, Mr. Brammer?”
Holt kissed the top of her forehead. “Yeah, but it never gets old, Mrs. Brammer.”
He pulled out his phone and opened his music app. “We still haven’t shared the first dance. What’ll it be, darlin’? Somethin’ slow or mid-tempo?”
“I’ll leave it up to you. Anything but country. And ABBA. And definitely no—”
“Alright, I think I’ll take it from here, bossy. I’m pickin’ one that best describes what gettin’ to this night has felt like.” Holt selected Seal’s “Waiting for You”. “May I have this dance, Mrs. B.?”
“Only if you can keep up,” Kat quipped, growing emotional as she took his hand and listened to the lyrics.
Every day a shade of blue
You believe what I’m going through
It just feels like I can’t afford to let myself go
No, oh, oh, no
“Not only will I keep up, I’m gonna put your smart-ass to shame.” Holt pulled her into him, rhythm oozing from his pores as he spun her out. “Let’s see whatchu got.”
There’s been no one brighter than you
I can’t deny these things that I do
It feels like the world’s at stake, yeah
I have been waitin’, I have been waitin’, for you
Seal turned into Stevie Wonder’s “As” followed by Whitney Houston’s “My Love is Your Love”. They laughed and danced until finally falling back on the bed. Kat took his hand in hers and kissed his fingers and wedding band.
“Best. Decision. Of. My. Life.”
“Ditto.”
***
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead. We have to be at your parents in an hour.”
Holt accompanied the notice with a nibble to Kat’s bottom. She buried face further in the pillow, dead to the world after a night and early morning of decadent lovemaking.
“Darlin’?” Holt was already dressed for the day and had managed to cross some things off his to do list while Kat slept. He was surprised that he didn’t feel tired. Jet lag seemed to have missed him completely as they hurried and prepped for their wedding.
Kat mumbled something into the pillow but didn’t stir.
Holt left the bedroom and returned fifteen minutes later with a steaming mug of coffee. He placed it on his nightstand and leaned against the dresser, waiting for the caffeinated brew to work its magic. The aroma quickly filled the room and the lump on the bed finally showed signs of life. Bedhead curls tossed as Kat’s head lifted and she sniffed the air appreciatively before springing back to life like a ‘‘White-Walker’’. She scrambled across the bed for the coffee mug.
“Freeze! Not so fast!”
She groaned and pulled the sheet back over her head with a laugh. “You kept me up all night! I need it! Give it to me!”
“Those phrases are what kept you up,” Holt chuckled. “Time to move that sexy derriere, love. I don’t want to be late for my in-laws. Tryin’ to make a good impression with them. You can have the coffee once you get out of the shower.”
Kat lowered the sheet beneath her chin and stared with ardent longing at the coffee. “On the way to the shower?”
“Woman.”
“The longer we compromise, the longer it’s going to take for me to get ready…”
“Fine, but your ass is mine the minute we get back!”
Kat leaped from the bed, naked as a newborn, and grabbed the cup. She drank deep gulps as she headed toward the bathroom. “Mmmm. I’ll think about it.”
“The hell?” Holt went after her, appreciating the view of her toned back, waist to hip ratio, and that ass. “What is there to think about? I said what I said.”
“Get away from me!” Kat squealed, twisting away from him. She ran ahead of Holt, but he easily caught her, snagging an ar
m around her waist and pulling her back against him. Kat tilted her head back, an impish smile on her lips. “You’ve caught me. Now, what are you going to do with me, husband?”
Her molasses eyes sparkled only for him, and the feeling was incomparable. For the millionth time, Holt wondered how he’d gotten so damn lucky. The double life he lived was tainted in sin. He didn’t deserve Katerina, but he was going to do everything in his power to ensure she never regretted giving him a chance. Holt leaned down until their lips touched.
“The plan is simple, darlin’. I’m gonna love you forever.”
***
Kat met him downstairs, wearing a black crew-neck t-shirt and distressed light-wash skinny jeans with her favorite black, stiletto ankle boots. Her hair was pulled up in a haphazard bun, and she wore no makeup. “I’m ready. Let’s roll.”
“What is this?” Holt gestured to her attire. He was dressed respectably in black jeans, a white V-neck t-shirt, and a black and white tweed blazer. He’d even combed his hair and the man bun was on point.
“We’re just going to my parents. What’s wrong with this?”
“That? That’s cute. I love you, baby, and you always look stylish, but this look screams ‘I spent all night fucking my new husband and worshipping his dick and didn’t have enough time or respect to put on my Sunday best’. Not what I’m goin’ for, Brammer!”
“But I did spend all night doing those things thanks to you, Holton, remember?” Kat sweetly countered, loving the flush that crept up his cheeks.
“Darlin’, Lex is gonna be lookin’ for any excuse to cut my head or dick off. Please don’t give him one.”
***
Katya was glowing.
She was vibrating with an energy that was almost…tangible. And humming a cheerful, incessant melody that nauseated her father with the suspicion of what might have prompted it. Alexei studied his daughter discreetly. She looked the same, none the worse for wear, with understated makeup and her hair pulled in a curly side ponytail. Kat was demurely dressed in a black, button-down dress with a full skirt. Alexei’s eyes flew across the dining room table and landed on Brammer. He’d just taken a healthy bite of his toast. His new son-in-law had the audacity to wink boldly at Katerina while he chewed, radiating with smug contentment that only one act could bring.
They were completely lost in their own little world.
That bastard!
Livid, Alexei’s fingers curled around the handle of his butter knife. His wife’s hand covering his stilled him.
“Not our problem, Lex,” Vivienne reminded him. She was full of compassion for the helpless position her dominating husband now found himself in. “You lost the right to kill him when you gave him your blessing. They did everything by the book. It’s all we could have asked for.”
“I understand that but my God!” Alexei ranted in a furious whisper. “Does he have to make his satisfaction so blatantly obvious under my roof?! And Katya is no better!” he sputtered. “Look at her! She’s – she’s-”
“Happy, my love,” Vivienne had to finish since he clearly couldn’t. “Kat looks the same way every new bride should look after her wedding night. And Holt’s smile says he earned that breakfast.”
“Vivi!”
“What?” She shot him a measured look. “You weren’t actually wishing trashy sex on them, were you? That would be the real travesty here.”
“So help me, woman…” Alexei growled, wearing a pained exasperation that tickled his beloved wife.
“It’s a joke, babe. Lighten up!”
They were interrupted by the arrival of Cruz. “Hola. I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, but we need to talk, amigos.”
The Spaniard’s usual affable demeanor was missing. He reached behind him and pulled a woman forward. She looked irate at being handled by him, but her frown smoothed out when she spied Holt.
“Holton! I’m so glad to see you.”
“Holton?” Kat and her parents echoed staring from him to the woman.
“Would you care to introduce us to your friend, Holton?” his wife suggested calmly, her eyes were flaying him alive, letting him know this better not be another skeleton from his closet.
Holt pressed back his grin at her subtle warning.
“Darlin’, this is Zoraida Quinn. She’s part of the mystery surroundin’ my cousin Matty. Zoraida, my wife, Katerina, and my in-laws, Alexei and Vivienne Romankov. What brings you here?”
“It’s nice to meet you all.” Zoraida held up a letter. “I’m here because I have more clues.”
***
“This is a letter Arianna wrote to me before I arrived in Sweden. I’m only discovering it now because it was stuck at the back of the mailbox. I’m a little taller, so I normally stick my hand in and feel around for mail. Since yesterday was the last day in my apartment, I stooped down and found it wedged between the adjoining mailbox.”
She was emotional from what she’d read. Everything felt new and terrifying again.
“Arianna met a guy from a modeling agency where she submitted her portfolio. She fell hard for him. Supposedly, he was the one. He took her places and bought her nice things, and she agreed to move to New York City with him. Things quickly turned bad, however. He introduced her to his friends and cut her off from her family and friends. They began to share her.” Zoraida pressed her hands together and closed her eyes, trying to find the strength to continue. Tears slipped from beneath her lids, and Kat and Vivienne went to sit next to her, each taking a hand and holding it.
“Take your time,” Kat encouraged her.
Zoraida offered them grateful smiles. “Thank you. Ari states there were three other girls that lived with her in a locked basement. ‘Playthings’ is what they were called,” she said distastefully. “They were sex slaves! They accompanied the men on trips but were watched the entire time. She wanted to reach out, but their families were being monitored and threatened.”
She stopped talking and reached into her backpack. “I felt like that was crap. That if she wanted to leave she could have found a way. Until she started naming names.” Zoraida held out a photo to them and Kat gasped, recognizing the man.
“That’s Charles McCray, the philanthropist!”
“He came to the elementary school that I worked at two years ago. I remember him going out of his way to meet me, heaping on praise about the ingenious ways I was working with our country’s future minds. It was my first day at the school, and my students were kindergarteners! The only thing I’d done so far was to simply show up to work!” Zoraida scoffed. “He asked me to dinner, but I declined. He settled for taking a picture with me before finally leaving me alone. This picture did appear on his foundation’s website, but Ari actually sent me this one. It was what they’d pinned to her wall as a warning. That they could get to anyone.”
“McCray is very persuasive and charming,” Kat acknowledged, feeling her skin crawl with this newfound knowledge.
“He is. Bastard even had his assistant send me flowers,” Zoraida snarled. “Then she tried to arrange another dinner—”
“Summer Birkin?” Kat interrupted. “She’s the one that I was supposed to meet. The one who arranged for the men to kidnap me!”
“Yes, Summer!” Zoraida exclaimed. “I remember because she was extremely pushy. Birkin…Birkin…” Her expression was quizzical as she read through the letter again. “Ari went to the Birkin Elite Model Agency!”
“She’s not pushy any longer. Or alive,” Cruz chimed in. “Summer Birkin is dead. She was found hanging from the railing of her rooftop balcony. The authorities are labeling it a suicide, but I have my reservations. Why would she arrange for Kat to be kidnapped only to kill herself? I had Magnus do some more digging. The modeling agency was just a front to recruit the young, innocent girls into this underground world.”
“What the fuck?” Holt growled. “For sex traffickin’?”
“Yes. My little cousin was in too deep and couldn’t get out. The media is highlightin
g human trafficking more, so instead of branding their victims' flesh, they resorted to something less incriminating,” Zoraida reached into the bag again, “and fashionable.”
“Am I the only one who keeps expecting her to pull out a rabbit? Eventually, maybe?” Cruz wondered and Zoraida glared at him.
Instead, she produced a ring.
Kat’s design that Sten had stolen.
“Get Magnus or Graham on the phone,” she ordered, pulling her phone out and dialing Tuck.
“Hello?”
“I’m at my parents. Get over here. You’re going to want in on this.”
“On the way.”
Kat hung up and pressed her hand to her mouth.
“Katya, what’s wrong?” Alexei had been silent the entire time. He and Vivi had opted for communicating silently.
“That’s my ring design! Long story, short, Sten stole it from me. I discovered that when I saw it in a fashion magazine. I confronted him by going to that charity dinner for McCray. Papa, the one I asked if I could borrow your invitation?”
“I remember,” Alexei confirmed darkly. “Before you leave, I expect a full explanation.”
“I second that,” Holt growled.
“We talked and he said that he would make everything right. He intended to give me a signed confession the next day. He didn’t show up, so I went to him. He’d been stabbed and was dying. His killer was hiding in the closet and –”
“Killer?!” Everyone shouted and Kat flinched.
“Damn! I keep forgetting how much everyone knows or doesn’t know. Zoraida, I hate to ask, but may I see a picture of Ari?”
“Fawn.” It was the first thing Kat said when she saw the woman as the bottom of her stomach fell out.