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

Home > Other > Sweet Savagery: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ruthless Obsession Book 3) > Page 13
Sweet Savagery: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ruthless Obsession Book 3) Page 13

by Zoe Blake


  Vaska shrugged and took a gulp. “It’s vodka, of course.” He offered me a swig, but I declined. Unlike Maxim, I was familiar with Vaska’s cheap taste in vodka.

  Maxim pointed to the flask. “That shit is not vodka and yes, it’s Dylan’s friend.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I have enough problems with Dylan without you kidnapping and duct taping her best friend.”

  Maxim cast a stormy glance back at his car, which was literally rocking back and forth from the wild movements of his trapped passenger. “It was unavoidable. She wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  I knew what that was like.

  Two of Vaska’s men appeared, to drag Frank out of the trunk.

  The car holding Dylan’s friend stilled as she stared at the unconscious man being dragged deeper into the warehouse.

  I nodded toward the car. “Is she going to be a problem?”

  Maxim followed my gaze. He kept his gaze on Carinna as he answered, “Yes, but she’s my problem. I’ll handle it.”

  We left another of Vaska’s men to stand guard over the car as we strolled over to where Frank was still passed out. The men strung him up by his wrists with some chains.

  I picked up a half empty beer bottle and poured the contents over his head. He came to, sputtering and cursing. I slammed the bottle against the edge of the table, breaking off the bottom. I approached Frank.

  He swung violently from his chains. “You got your money! You got your money!”

  I pressed the jagged edge of the beer bottle into his side. “This is not about money.” I applied just enough pressure to deeply pierce his skin but not hit any internal organs. I didn’t want him to die just yet.

  Maxim strolled forward, holding up his phone.

  “Do you have it?” I asked.

  Maxim nodded. He then turned the phone toward Frank. At first, he ignored it until he heard his brother’s screams.

  Frank tried to avert his gaze, but I grabbed him by the back of the head and forced him to look. “Watch. Watch as your brother dies.”

  Frank vomited.

  I stepped to the side just in time. “Fuck, my boots.”

  Vaska shook his head. “They never respect Italian leather.”

  With a look of disgust, I ran my gaze over Frank’s shaking form. “I have allowed your brother the mercy of a quick death because he told me how to recover my money. You… you will not be so lucky.”

  Frank protested, “Why? Why? You have your money. It was all my brother’s idea.”

  I pushed the jagged bottle in deeper. “Because you dared to touch what was mine. I’ll see you in hell first before I let you lay another filthy hand on Dylan.”

  I tossed the bottle aside. Turning away, I pulled my sweater over my head and tossed it over a nearby chair. I turned back toward Frank as I cradled my right fist in my left palm.

  Things were about to get bloody…

  Chapter 18

  Dylan

  I allowed myself to be led away. Dazed, I sat on a stool at a large kitchen island. It took several moments to realize someone was speaking to me.

  I looked up as a beautiful woman dressed all out in the rockabilly style chattered on. Her jet-black hair was secured with a red bandanna, which matched her off-the-shoulder red gingham top.

  Embarrassed, I twirled a piece of hair as I said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  She held out a hand with perfectly painted short red nails. “I’m Mary and you’re Dylan. That is such a cool freaking name. Was your mom a Bob Dylan fan? Oh! Or better yet, a 90210 fan? Don’t you just love the bad boys?”

  She was a whirlwind of energy and chatter as she opened several cabinets, pulling out a bag of Doritos, a bottle of Jose Cuervo tequila, and two shot glasses. “My stress go-tos,” she said as she held up the bottle of tequila and the bag of tortilla chips.

  I struggled to keep up with the conversation. I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Usually everyone thinks it’s a boy’s name.”

  Mary unscrewed the cap on the tequila and poured out two shots. I glanced over her shoulder at the time on the microwave. It was barely eleven-thirty in the morning. She followed my gaze, then waved it off. “It’s five o’clock somewhere! Cheers!”

  She held up her shot. I did as well and belted it back. I liked Mary. She had the same warm friendship vibe of Carinna. Carinna!

  “Have you met their… um… I don’t know what he is… their associate? Maxim? He has my friend.”

  She placed her hand over mine. “I know this is hard to understand because they look super scary with all their tattoos and scowls, but they really are good men. If Maxim has your friend, he’s doing it for her own protection.”

  I frowned as I reached for the tequila bottle and poured us both another shot. Good men? They were freaking criminals. “You’re right. That is hard to understand.”

  Mary laughed as she picked up her phone and rapidly texted someone. “Sorry, I just had to text my friend Emma. You’ll meet her soon. Don’t worry, you’ll love her. Everyone loves Emma. Anyway, she is just going to die knowing the advice I just gave, considering Vaska had to literally handcuff me to get me to listen to him last year.”

  I choked on my tequila shot. “Oh, my God, he handcuffed you?”

  Mary swallowed her shot and reached for the bag of Doritos. “Oh, sweetie, if you’re going to keep dating a Russian man, you need to understand they have a rather blunt way of getting what they want.”

  Feeling the effects of the tequila on my empty stomach, I blurted out, “Ivan put me in his trunk when I refused to get in the car.”

  Mary laughed. “Yep, Vaska has threatened to do just that on more than one occasion.” She frowned. “I’ll have to make sure Ivan doesn’t tell him that’s an actual option. Riding in a trunk would ruin my outfit.”

  I reached for a Dorito. “I don’t mean to judge, but how can you be so casual about all this?”

  Mary shrugged. “Sometimes in order to get what you want, you have to make certain compromises. I certainly didn’t envision a tattooed Russian crime boss as my future husband, but,” she held up her left hand to display a rock the size of a robin’s egg on her ring finger, “here we are!”

  I twisted my hair until it was tight around my index finger, cutting off my circulation. “Look, you are being super nice, and I don’t want to offend you, but I have no intention of dating or marrying any criminal and especially not Ivan.”

  “Yeah, that’s the other thing about Russian men. They don’t really give you a choice in the matter.”

  Mary picked up the bottle and the bag of chips and walked into the living room area. I grabbed the shot glasses and followed her but stopped the second I saw the two beanbag chairs and the cardboard box being used as a coffee table.

  Furniture like that would be right at home in my crappy little studio apartment, but it was definitely odd in this multimillion-dollar penthouse overlooking Lake Michigan.

  Mary saw my odd look and laughed as she flopped down on a beanbag chair. “Long story short. When I first started dating Vaska, this place was decorated in floor-to-ceiling white. No kidding, it was like a marshmallow vomited and then exploded. He agreed we could redecorate, but we can’t agree on a style. So, I’m punishing him with the beanbag chairs till he gives in to my way.”

  It was hard to reconcile a big scary dude like Vaska giving in to any woman, but I guess if anyone were able to get him to do it, it would be Mary.

  I kicked off my shoes and sat on one of the chairs. I stared at the empty shot glass in my hand. After a long moment of silence, I said, “They’re going to kill my uncle, aren’t they?”

  Mary placed a comforting hand on my back. “Is your uncle the one who gave you that shiner?”

  I nodded, hating the tears that sprang to my eyes. They weren’t tears for my uncle but rather a deep sadness that things could not have been different between me and my relatives.

  Mary cast me a look of sympathy. “Then yes, they
’ll kill him.”

  I rubbed my temples. “This is insane. I mean, are we really talking about your fiancé and my… my… Ivan… killing a man?”

  “In their world, things are very black and white. He hit you. That’s it. Game over. Ivan will not let a man who touched you like that live.”

  It wasn’t like I wasn’t familiar with how the criminal element worked. It was the world I’d grown up in. In their world, it was very much an eye for an eye. That was the only way to gain and keep respect.

  If Mary was right, then my uncle Frank was probably dead by now. There was a good chance so was my uncle Harold. I was desperately trying to feel something, anything, but couldn’t manage to give a damn. I didn’t even feel all that guilty about the part I played in their deaths. After all, I didn’t choose to be their pawn. They shouldn’t have sent me the money in the first place.

  For me, it was more the idea that someone gave a shit that I had been the one hurt. No one, except for Carinna, had ever cared enough about me to buy me a freaking cup a coffee let alone kill a man.

  What the hell did it mean that Ivan was going to these lengths… for me?

  I didn’t like the idea that I might somehow owe him now.

  I mean, that must be what this was about, right?

  No one did anything for nothing.

  There was a commotion at the front entrance. We both rose as Ivan and Vaska walked into the kitchen. Vaska tossed the black duffel bag onto the counter and opened his arms as Mary ran into them.

  As they greeted one another, I stood awkwardly to the side, feeling the heat of Ivan’s stare but refusing to meet his gaze.

  Vaska picked Mary up in his arms. He gestured with his head. “There’s a guest suite down the other hall.” With that he carried Mary out of the room.

  The silence was oppressive.

  I sensed rather than saw Ivan move toward me. Instinctively, I took a step back.

  “Don’t.”

  The dark command in his voice halted me.

  My breath came in fearful, fast gasps as I stared at his boots. Then I raised my gaze to his hands. They were bloodied and bruised, with several open cuts over the knuckles. Shocked, I raised my face to his. There were flecks of blood on his neck and jaw. He took a step toward me, but I backed away, raising my arm in a futile effort to hold him off.

  He growled my name in warning. “Dylan.”

  I shook my head as my hand covered my mouth. My palm muffled my words. “That’s from my uncle, isn’t it? You beat him to death, didn’t you?”

  He lunged, snatching my body to him.

  “No! No!” I screamed as I thrashed in his embrace. Thinking about him killing my uncle and facing the brutal reality of it were two very different things. “Don’t touch me!”

  He pulled my hair, forcing my head back. “I’ll touch you whenever I fucking please. You’re not allowed to tell me no.”

  His mouth swooped down to claim mine. His tongue pushed past my closed lips. His other hand swept down to my lower back, crushing me closer to him. The threatening press of his already hard cock pushed against my stomach. He tasted like coffee and violence. It was like being swept into the eye of a storm. There was a thundering rush in my ears as flashes of light tormented me behind my closed eyelids.

  He overwhelmed my senses. His touch was everywhere. The smell of his cologne was on my skin. The taste of him was in my mouth.

  Still, I tried to fight.

  I raised my arms and pummeled his chest with my fists. He took each of my weak blows but didn’t lessen the force of his kiss as he drove me back against the wall. His hips ground into mine as his hands clawed at my clothes.

  He pulled back. The rough warmth of his breath was on my cheek as he leaned his forehead against mine. “You’re mine, Dylan. If I have to fuck you into submission every time you try to fight me, I will.”

  My body wanted to melt within his embrace and accept my fate, but my mind kept screaming no. My mind would not concede my dreams so easily. This was not the life I wanted for myself. I would not follow my mother’s path. It had only brought her heartache and pain.

  I choked on a sob. “I’ll never be yours.”

  His blue gaze hardened to ice. “So be it, baby girl. You asked for this.”

  He bent over and put a shoulder into my stomach, lifting me high. I screamed and pounded on his back, knowing neither Mary nor Vaska would come to my aid.

  Ivan carried me down a long hallway before kicking open a large door at the end. He tossed me onto the center of the bed before turning and slamming the bedroom door shut. There was a foreboding click when he turned the lock.

  “You have my uncle’s blood on your hands, and you expect me to just spread my legs?” I fired at him.

  He didn’t say a word. Piercing me with his gaze, he kicked off his boots and socks. He then pulled his sweater over his head. When he reached for the fastening to his jeans, I panicked. I climbed off the bed and ran to the other side of the room, even though there was no exit.

  Ivan nodded toward me. “Take off your clothes.”

  I gripped the sides of my blazer tightly over my chest. “No.”

  He lowered the zipper to his jeans. They hung low on his hips. His heavily muscled chest, with its dark hair and ominous tattoos, was on full display. As was the ever-present chain and cross, making a mockery of all he said and did. “I’ve already told you I don’t like repeating myself, malen’kaya kukla. Now take off your clothes before I tear them off you.”

  “If you do this, it will be by force.”

  He smirked. “You act like that’s a problem for me. Besides, we both know you like it when I’m rough.”

  My cheeks burned at the truth of his words.

  Not wanting to face it, I bolted for the bathroom door. Ivan snatched at me but only got a handful of my blazer. I stretched my arms back, letting him pull it off me as I ran. I reached the door and turned just in time to slam it in his face. I flicked the lock and backed away. Breathing heavily, I gripped the cold marble counter behind me and tried to think of my next move.

  Wood cracked and splintered as Ivan kicked the door open.

  He fisted my blouse and yanked me against his naked chest. “There will never be locked doors between us. Do you understand me?” He kissed me again as his fingers tore at the buttons on my blouse. In seconds, I was naked and vulnerable in his arms.

  He reached past me to turn the nozzle on the shower. It was a massive glass chamber. He pushed on the waistband of his jeans and let them fall to the floor. I hazarded a quick glance at his cock. It was hard and bulging. Would the sight of him ever not fill me with trepidation? I still couldn’t believe he fit that thing inside of me.

  He walked me backward till the hot stream of water hit my back and soaked my hair. The moment he closed the shower door, the chamber filled with steam. He loomed over me like a demon emerging from the smoke of hell.

  He pressed me against the now warm marble tile as he kissed me senseless again. I could not fight him any longer. He was too powerful. A part of me wanted to submit, wanted to lean into his strength, into his dominance.

  He grabbed the soap and lathered it between his palms. “Turn around.”

  I obeyed.

  A tremor ran down my body as his hands caressed my back. When his fingers slipped into my ass crack, I tensed. His soapy fingertip grazed my clenched hole.

  He leaned over me, his beard scraping my cheek. “You were a very bad girl today.”

  Oh, God.

  His fingertip slipped inside my dark hole. I cried out as I braced my palms against the shower wall.

  He pushed his finger in further. “Time for your punishment.”

  Chapter 19

  Ivan

  I grasped my cock and ran my lathered hand up and down its length. It had been my plan to introduce her to anal sex more gently, but plans changed. Her denying my ownership of her and fighting me at every turn had unleashed a primal need to dominate her in every respect. Ju
dging by her previous reaction to my fingering her tight hole, my baby was a virgin there. My blood rose at the thought of being the one, the only one, to ever take her there.

  And I would be the only one from this point forward, of that I was certain. If I had my way, no other man would even look at her, let alone touch her. Tonight, I had killed for this woman, and I wouldn’t hesitate to do so again. She may not think she was worth such devotion, but I knew better. The bastards she called family had messed with her head long enough. It was time to show her what it truly meant to have someone like me to protect and care for her.

  The moment she met me, her life changed. She needed to accept that fact or there would be far more punishments like this until she did.

  “Ivan, I’ve never… we can’t… I,” she stammered as I pushed my finger into her asshole past the first knuckle.

  “Shhh, baby girl. This is happening. It will be far less painful if you don’t struggle.”

  I grabbed the soap and lathered my hands again. I placed my right hand between her legs. This time I stroked her pussy, playing with her clit with the tips of my fingers as I circled her clenched hole with the pad of my thumb. I applied a small amount of pressure and she clenched in response. My cock lengthened to a painful degree. Never in my life had I anticipated a sexual encounter more than in this very moment. I was about to make her truly mine.

  I pushed my foot against the inside of her right foot, forcing her legs open wider. Fisting my cock, I placed the head at her tight entrance. She was as prepared as I could make her, especially since this was supposed to be a punishment. She would get pleasures, eventually, but first I wanted her to feel pain. She needed to understand that the rules had changed. I was in charge from now on and there were consequences for defying me. Painful ones.

  Dylan’s body tensed.

  I used my free hand to caress her back as I pushed forward.

  “Ow! Ow! Ow!” she cried out as she rose up on her toes.

 

‹ Prev