Sweet Savagery: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ruthless Obsession Book 3)

by Zoe Blake

  She kicked out. “Put me down!”

  I carried her over to the kitchen sink. Flipping the tap on, I switched it to warm water and grabbed the folded dish towel nearby.

  I placed her back on her feet but pinned her against the counter with my body. Shoving my fingers into her curls, I fisted her hair at the base of her skull and pulled her head back.

  “Ivan, stop! Don’t!”

  I ran a corner of the towel under the water and gently swiped under her eye.

  My gut twisted with blinding rage as a purple bruise appeared under the layers of foundation.

  Ignoring her struggles, I kept her head steady as I carefully wiped off the rest of her makeup, searching for damage. An ugly bruise marred her beautiful face just below her right eye.

  Tossing the used towel in the sink, I released my grip on her hair and placed my fists on either side of the counter, caging her in. My jaw was tight with anger. I spit out through clenched teeth, “Name.”

  That was all I needed, and I would take it from there. Whoever dared to lay a hand on her was a dead man the moment he’d made contact. There wasn’t a single dark corner on this entire wretched earth he could hide from my wrath. If it took all of my resources, I would track him down and slowly tear his insides out through his mouth, so not even God could hear him beg for mercy.

  She pushed her now tangled hair behind her ears as she averted her gaze. She sniffed, then said, “Ivan, this is none of your—”

  I raised a clenched fist and pressed it to my forehead, desperately trying to quash the sickening anger that threatened to overtake what little restraint I had in this moment. “So help me God, Dylan. Don’t you fucking dare say this is none of my concern.”

  “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Oh, trust me, baby girl, there’s plenty I’m going to do about it. I want a name, now.”

  She swiped at a tear on her cheek. “Please, it’s not a big deal. It’s not like I haven’t had a black eye before.”

  And there it was…

  The one sentence that changed… everything.

  I wondered if other men were lucky enough to recognize—to know—with perfect crystal clarity the precise moment their entire life changed. Looking down into those big tear-filled brown eyes, I knew without a shadow of a doubt what my purpose was now.

  Until this very moment, I had lived my life only for myself and the pursuit of my own pleasure and glory. Even when I was in the army, it was never about any higher purpose. It was about the danger and the power of it all. Later, it became about the money. All of that seemed hollow and inconsequential now.

  Everything happened for a reason.

  My stolen money brought me into Dylan’s life for a reason.

  She needed someone to protect and care for her, to love her, and I was going to be that man.

  She deserved a better man than me, but sometimes you don’t get what you deserve. You get what you need, and Dylan needed me. I’d known it from the moment I first laid eyes on her. I was just being stupid by fighting it. How could I have honestly thought I would bed her, maybe get her pregnant, then let her walk out of my life? Did I seriously think this vivacious, defiant little doll of a woman was going to ever bore me? I could spend a lifetime with her and never tire of staring into those eyes. And if it took a lifetime, I was going to erase all the pain and disappointment she had ever felt.

  She was mine now, not just for this trip, not for a fun time in Moscow till we both got bored, but forever. Mine.

  I raised my hands.

  Dylan flinched, then stilled.

  My wrath made my hands shake. When I got a hold of the man who did this to her, I was going to break every fucking bone in his body.

  Careful to move slowly, I cupped her jaw. Her eyes fluttered closed as she rested her cheek in my palm for the barest of moments. Then her eyes flew open as she stiffened and turned her face away.

  Widening my stance, I stepped closer. I enfolded her in my arms as I kissed her forehead. “Moy malen’kaya kukla, later, when I have you someplace safe, I will explain in great detail how something like this is never, ever, going to happen to you again now that I’m here, but right now, I need you to tell me who hit you.”

  She sniffed again. Her small hands clutched at my sides. “What’s going to happen to him if I tell you?”

  “I’m going to kill him.” There was no point in denying it.

  She pulled away, but I refused to let go. She turned her face up to mine. “No, you can’t!”

  “The hell I can’t. He fucking punched you, Dylan. That does not happen to any woman on my watch, let alone a woman under my protection.”

  “You’ll only make things worse for me.” She grabbed my sweater, fisting it in her hands. “Please, just let me leave. I’ll leave town and none of you will ever see me again. Please.”

  It was a reasonable request. One I had no intention of allowing. “No.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. You got everything you wanted. You got your money. You… you… punished and fucked me to get back at my family for stealing it. What else do you want?”

  “You.”

  “You had me!”

  “I want more.”

  “That’s not fair! You can’t ask that of me. Please, just let me leave.”

  “No.”

  She bristled. “I don’t need your permission. A single fuck doesn’t mean you suddenly own me. I don’t answer to you.”

  The extremely thin hold I had on my anger snapped.

  I wrapped my hands around her waist and picked her up. I walked the several steps back into the living room area and tossed her onto the large L-shaped black sofa that dominated the space.

  She scrambled back, but I caught hold of her ankle and pulled her back into position. The movement caused her skirt to ride up her thighs.

  I tossed the jewelry box from my back pocket onto the nearby coffee table and reached for the zipper on my jeans. “If I recall, it was more than just one fuck.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” I pulled my already hard cock free.

  Dylan cried out and once more tried to scramble off the sofa.

  I grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs open. Kneeling between them, I pulled her skirt further up. I tore at the white lace panties blocking me from her sweet pussy. Her hands pushed at her skirt, trying to force it between her legs. I snatched both wrists and pulled them high over her head. I pressed two fingertips to her clit and gently pulsed them. As much as I wanted to thrust into her body hard and fast, I needed her wet first or my thick cock would definitely tear her delicate entrance.

  She moaned, already getting slick with arousal as I pushed one, then a second finger inside. “Your body tells me otherwise.”

  Unable to wait any longer, I leaned back and positioned my cock at her entrance. I plunged in to the hilt. Her body bowed as her mouth opened on a silent cry. I pulled back, then thrust in again. Needing her to feel every inch of my dominance. Never again would she deny me, deny this.

  With my forearms on either side of her head, I leaned down to growl into her ear, “Feel that, baby girl.” I thrust harder. “That’s me owning you.”

  Dylan moaned as her head thrashed from side to side. Despite her protests, her legs moved to wrap around my waist, pulling me in tighter.

  I tore at the buttons of her slim blouse. Shoving her lace bra down, I dipped my head to pull one erect nipple deep into my mouth. As I sucked hard, scraping my teeth along the edge, her hips bucked, matching my violent thrusts.

  I reached between us and teased her clit until her body tensed. I watched as her mouth opened on a gasp and then held it. I was already learning all the cute little signs her climax was near. I flicked the sensitive nub harder as I continued to pound into her tight body.

  Dylan cried out. The moment her orgasm crashed over her, I unleashed my own, driving into her several more times
until my balls tightened. A hot stream of come filled her core as I continued to thrust till her clenching muscles had squeezed every drop from my cock.

  Keeping my semi-hard shaft still deep inside of her, I pushed the tangled curls from her flushed face. Brushing my thumb over her lower lip, I said, “Whether or not you like it, you’re mine now.”

  “Does it matter at all that I don’t want to be with you? That I promised myself I would never date a… a criminal?”

  I scanned her face, reading all the pain and confusion in the depths of her expressive eyes and knowing I was the cause. Still, it did not change my answer. “Yesli ya byl khoroshim i poryadochnym chelovekom, eto imelo znacheniye, no ya net, i ya nikogda ne pritvoryalsya kem-to drugim, krome togo, kem ya yavlyayus’.”

  At her confused look, I realized I had slipped into my mother tongue. I repeated, “If I was a good and decent person, it would matter, but I am not, and I have never pretended to be anything other than who I am.”

  Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “I wish I’d never met you.”

  I deserved that, but no amount of tears or cruel words were going to change my mind. She may not want to admit it, but she needed me, needed my protection. “Tell me who it was.”

  She sighed. “It was my uncle.”

  “Harold’s still in Russia.” I should know. He was under guard in a storage unit outside of Moscow.

  “My other uncle, Frank. He came looking for the money and…”

  Goddamn it. This was my fault. I had taken the money back hoping to keep her safe and in doing so I’d actually put her in more danger. I knew I should have kept with my instincts and never let her return to her apartment. Well, that would not be happening again.

  I pulled free from her tight heat and rose. Tucking myself back in my jeans, I grabbed my phone.

  Vaska answered on the first ring. “Da?”

  “U menya problema.”

  Vaska responded without hesitation. “Tvoya problema - moya problema, drug moy.”

  “YA budu cherez pyat’.”

  I reached down to pull Dylan to her feet. I swiped up the jewelry box and put it back in my pocket. Giving it to her would have to wait. Snatching her hand in mine, I dragged her toward the elevators.

  She resisted. “Wait. Where are you taking me? You’re not really going to kill my uncle, are you?”

  I turned and gave her a hard, swift kiss. The elevator doors opened, and I pulled her inside. Pressing the button for the lobby, I kept my gaze straight ahead as I responded, “What do you think?”

  Chapter 17

  Ivan

  Dylan crossed her arms in defiance. “I’m not going to let you kill my uncle.”

  I frowned. “Where is your coat?”

  “For the last time, I don’t have one!”

  Cursing under my breath, I wrapped my hand around her upper arm and pulled her across the lobby. The doormen scrambled to open the doors for us. Fortunately, my car was waiting up front at the curb. I opened the passenger door and stared down at Dylan, one eyebrow raised. When she hesitated to get in, I warned, “The trunk is still an option.”

  She scurried into the car.

  Slipping behind the wheel, I threw it into gear and raced down the street. Vaska’s penthouse was only a few streets over.

  I called Maxim. The moment he answered, I asked, “Where are you?”

  “I’m at Dylan’s apartment building. We have a problem. They trashed her place. No sign of her.”

  I inhaled through my nose, reminding myself I was angry at her uncle, not her. Although the fact that she’d returned to a trashed apartment and an uncle who then beat her, and didn’t call me for help, would definitely be addressed later.

  “I’m aware. Meet me at the warehouse.”

  “You got it, boss. What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going hunting.”

  “I need to take care of her friend first. I’ll be there in twenty.”

  Dylan grabbed my arm as she tried to yell into my phone. “What do you mean, take care of my friend? Do you mean Carinna? What have you done to Carinna?”

  The line went dead.

  “Oh, my God, what did he mean? What’s he going to do to Carinna?”

  I flipped the left turn signal and turned onto Vaska’s street.

  “Ivan! Carinna is not involved.”

  “She’s your friend, is she not?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Then she is involved. Maxim will not hurt her. They compromised the security of your apartment building. He’s taking her someplace safe.”

  She curled her legs up onto the seat, hugging her knees to her chest. “Everything is a mess, and it’s all my fault.”

  I pulled up to Vaska’s building and turned off the ignition. I twisted to face her. “None of this is your fault.”

  “Then why am I the one getting punished,” she mumbled from behind her knees.

  I shrugged. “Because the world is not fair.”

  She lifted her head to look at me. “That’s the best you can do?”

  “I will try to think of something better later.” I got out of the car and swung around to open the passenger side.

  I was pleased when she placed her hand in mine with no objection. I led her into the building. We crossed to the private elevators, and I punched in Vaska’s code.

  As we waited for the doors to open, Dylan repeated, “You can’t kill my uncle.”

  Frustrated, I pulled her into the elevator and slammed my palm onto the emergency button the moment the doors closed, trapping her. I pushed her against the wall and leaned in. “I’m getting fucking tired of this, Dylan. Your uncles are nothing but pieces of shit who care nothing for you. They deliberately put you in danger. They knew what type of man I was when they crossed me. You can’t tell me they didn’t have another option other than sending my money to your apartment?”

  “Stop,” she whimpered.

  “No. I won’t. You need to acknowledge the truth.” I wrapped my hands around her shoulders and pulled her away from the wall. Standing behind her, I forced her to look in the mirror, which ran the length of the elevator’s back wall. “Look. Look at yourself.”

  When she tried to lower her head, I wrapped my hand around her jaw and forced her head up. I wanted her to see the brutal black eye her uncle had given her. “You see that? That will not go unpunished,” I growled. “Do you understand me?”

  “I’m not worth it,” she cried.

  I turned her in my arms and cupped her face. “That’s where you’re wrong, baby girl.” I claimed her mouth, tasting the salt of her tears on her lips.

  I hit the emergency button with my fist and selected Vaska’s floor.

  When the door opened, Vaska was standing over a round hallway table, shoving several guns and knives into a black duffel bag. “I have the unmarked SUV ready in the parking garage.” He nodded down the hallway. “Mary will take care of Dylan.”

  A stunning woman who looked like a dark-haired Marilyn Monroe walked toward us.

  Dylan turned to me. “Please, can’t we talk about this?”

  “No.”

  It was natural she’d be upset at me for killing two members of her family, but she’d get over it. I’d give her no choice.

  Mary wrapped her arms around Dylan’s shoulders. “Come on, sweetie. Let me get you some tequila.”

  Keeping my gaze trained on Dylan as Mary led her away, I asked, “Do we have the intel?”

  Vaska nodded. “Used a police officer who owes us a favor. He tracked Frank’s phone to some rundown bar in the Ukrainian Village.”

  I picked up the duffel bag filled with guns and followed Vaska into the elevator. “Are we going to have any trouble with the police?”

  Vaska shook his head as he hit the button for the garage. “They’ve been told to stay away.”

  I nodded. “Good. Let’s go kill this bastard.”

  Frank was easy to spot the moment we walked into the dimly lit dive bar. He was
the one who fell out of his bar seat as he booked it for the back exit. I snatched him by the back of his shirt and swung him into the wall. His head smashed against a filthy framed photo. Its yellowed glass shattered around his face and shoulders. He sagged to the floor.

  I wrenched him to his feet. “Do you know who I am?”

  He sneered, his upper lip exposing his blood-covered teeth. “Let me guess. You’re the guy that little whore is spreading her legs for. What’s the matter? The black eye cutting into your profits?”

  The insinuation that my Dylan was a whore and I her pimp only stoked my already out-of-control rage. “I’m Ivan Morozov.”

  Frank’s eyes widened. He raised his arms, waving his palms. “Wait! Wait! I… I… I didn’t know! I didn’t know! Look, my brother made a mistake, but it’s all fixed. You have your money. Take the whore too.”

  Bile rose in the back of my throat at the thought of Dylan begging me to spare this bastard’s life. If she only knew how little her so-called family cared for her. No, that wasn’t right. I suspected she did know, which made it that much more heartbreaking.

  With a roar, I sent Frank crashing through the dingy front window. His limp body rolled across the sidewalk to land in the muddy gutter.

  Vaska stood next to me with his hands on his hips. We stared past the jagged pieces of glass. “We are not putting this grungy piece of shit in my car.”

  We looked at one another and said at the same time, “Trunk.”

  It took over thirty minutes to get to the desolate warehouse where Vaska and Dimitri usually did their arms exchanges with the locals.

  Maxim pulled up next to us. In the passenger seat of his car was a female with wild curly hair. Her mouth and hands were duct taped. As he opened the door, we could hear her muffled screams. He slammed and locked the door.

  I gestured toward the car. “What the fuck, Maxim?”

  He threw up his arms. “These American women are impossible.”

  Vaska laughed as he slapped Maxim on the back. “Welcome to the club, my friend.”

  “Is that Dylan’s friend?”

  Maxim nodded as he accepted a silver flask from Vaska. He took a large swig, but then coughed. Swiping his wrist over his mouth, he asked, “What the hell is that?”