Dirty Obsessions: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance (The Lion and The Mouse Book 5.5)

by Kenya Wright

  I raised one eyebrow. “You didn’t have time to put on some pants?”

  “I did, but this way I bring more joy to your evening.”

  I glanced down at his crotch. “And an erection at that?”

  “You caught me during my special time.”

  I frowned. “You’re a redhead. I would have rather not known that.”

  “And are you impressed with the size of a certain member?”

  “I’m much bigger.” I returned to his face and placed the unicorn in my pocket. “I need you to do something for me. Remember that voice program you created?”

  “Why? I have a feeling you’re going to have me do something terrible.”

  “Can you get Leonid’s voice to say anything I want?”

  “Of course. I found old media clippings from when he’s spoken at charity events.”

  “Good. Grab his voice and then do a recording of him saying several sentences. I’ll write them down for you.”

  “When do you want this?”

  “I needed this an hour ago.”

  Circuit frowned. “But this is my special time.”

  “Have your special time after this.” I left and headed back to my bedroom.

  He called back, “I doubt your dick is bigger.”

  “It is.”

  “Oh, wait! I have news about Paris.”

  I stopped in the hallway and didn’t turn down.

  “Our tech, Lainey, discovered a new person hunting for Kazimir’s babies. She has a satellite program where if there is any mention of Kazimir’s name and anything dealing with nuclear weapons in the same conversation, then the feed comes to her. Someone new has been talking about the nukes.”

  I already knew the name, but wanted the confirmation. “Who?”

  “The Dragon.”

  Kenji’s words filled my head.

  “You helped my enemies take something precious from me. Therefore, I will help your enemies take something precious from you.”

  Pulling the unicorn out of my pocket, I kept my back to Circuit so he wouldn’t see my annoyance. “Who was the Dragon talking to?”

  “A woman named Celina. She called him for help. She told him all about taking the nukes and that they were with her niece on a necklace. She also knew that there was a team of men tracking them and killing everyone involved. The Dragon said he would look into it and try to contact the team.”

  “Circuit?” I turned to him. “You like astronomy. How many days until the lunar eclipse?”

  “The blood moon is tomorrow tonight. Shouldn’t we be talking about Paris?”

  “Get the recording done immediately.” I walked off, twisting the unicorn in my hand.

  Chapter 22

  Ava

  That morning, I woke up to Misha playing chess with himself. It was a delicious sight. His shirt was off, displaying curved muscle and the coded holy cross on his chest. His designer boxer briefs hugged his sculpted thighs and did a horrible job hiding the bulge of his cock.

  Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Why sleep and dream, when my waking days are much more exciting?” He placed the unicorn peace onto the third board and took an enemy rook. Then he rose from his seat, went to the enemy’s side, sat down, and gazed at the boards. “How did you sleep?”

  “Fine.” I left the bed. “You should get some rest, Misha.”

  “I will soon. For now, there are things to do.” He studied his game.

  I strolled over to him and touched his shoulder. “Who’s winning—left you or right you?”

  “Left me has a good advance but right me won’t lose without a serious fight.” He looked up, captured me by the waist, and lowered me onto his lap. “How’s your body? A monster attacked you last night.”

  I smirked. “Did he? I barely remember.”

  “You’re lucky that I can’t punish you.”

  I held mock shock on my face. “Why would I need to be punished?”

  “You’re taunting my cock.” He kissed me. “Take a shower and get dressed, please. I don’t have much time with you before I leave.”

  I left his lap. “Leave?”

  “I’m going to Paris tonight.”

  “To help your cousin get his property back?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And what about the Xecutioners?”

  “I’ll be meeting with them around lunch. Which only gives me the morning to spend with you.”

  My nerves flared. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Get dressed quickly.” He returned to the chess boards. “I don’t want to waste any of our time together.”

  “Okay.” I hurried off, pushing my worry away. This was Misha’s world. If I stood around arguing with him about shit I didn’t know about, it could mess him up. This morning there was a different energy about him. The way he focused on his game and the look in his eyes told me that there were a lot of plans being mapped out in his mind.

  What is he going to do?

  A half an hour later, we were both dressed in jeans and shirts. I realized in that moment that I wasn’t used to seeing Misha in such a relaxed attire. A computer decorated his shirt. On the screen was a broken heart.

  We stood in a room next to the computer area. There hadn’t been a door to enter it, just a wall that slid open. Misha had accessed the concealed room by placing his hand on the wall’s surface. Then the whole wall opened.

  I scanned the space.

  The hidden room was clean and painted all white. Shelves lined the four walls. Those shelves were full of weapons—long guns, rifles, shotguns, and machine guns. Boxes of ammunition stacked the bottom of each shelf.

  Misha walked over to one shelf, picked up a small handgun, studied it, and handed the weapon to me. “This is yours. Kahr CW9. 9mm Luger.”

  “Mine?”

  “You have small hands. This would be one of the best guns for you. Simple design. Nice and small. You can put it in your pocketbook. I’ll get Valentina’s handbag designer to make you some nice ones.”

  I swallowed. “Okay.”

  “I thought about what you said yesterday. You want to help me. The best way is to stay alive.”

  I held the gun’s point away from both of us and assessed the cold metal.

  “I need you, Ava. Nothing would ruin me more than if something happened to you. That means that even if your guards are destroyed. . .you have this gun to shoot the person and then race to freedom.”

  I blinked.

  “Do you understand?”

  My heartbeats increased. “Yes.”

  “The CW9 is reliable and accurate. It uses a seven-round, single-stack magazine.” He went to the bottom of one shelf, bent over, and picked up a box of bullets. “Let’s test your new gun out.”

  “O-kay.”

  He guided me to the end of the room. Right in the corner was a lever. He pulled it. The wall slid to the right, shocking me again.

  Why do I keep getting surprised down here? Shouldn’t I be used to all of this by now?

  In front of us stood a small gun range. There were four lanes. Hooks and wire were on the ceiling. In front of each lane was a stall.

  Misha turned to me. “Are you ready?”

  I gulped in fear. “Ready.”

  The rest of the morning, Misha showed me how to properly care for my gun—safety measures, loading, cleaning, and the best ways to store it. After that, he gave me goggles and headphones. I put them on. He put his own on too.

  Next, he taught me how to shoot. He was an amazing teacher. With that signature finesse of his, he talked with his hands, moving them back and forth. When he ended his sentences, he dotted his index fingers in the air. When he had a major point, he raised them.

  At first, I couldn’t even shoot any part of the paper target. With more of his instruction, I began to hit my target, putting holes in the bullseye several times.

  Hours later, Misha took me back to our bedroom. To my shock, someone had decorated the
space with flowers and lit candles. A table was in the center. Two women in all black brought plates to the table. On the right was a buffet section full of sweet and savory smelling dishes.

  “Misha, this is amazing.”

  “You didn’t think I would leave you without a little romance.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I have to stay in your mind while I’m gone.”

  “Romantic dinner or not, you would be on my mind.”

  “That’s how I like it.”

  We sat down at the table. The women placed portions of food onto our plates. A small bowl of borscht was next to each of our plates. Since moving to Russia, borscht had become one of my favorite dishes. Although originating from the Ukraine, Russians quickly adopted it. With a beet base, meat and tons of sautéed vegetables filled the soup. The best part was the dollop of sour cream right on top.

  I went to the borscht first, tried a spoonful, and moaned in pleasure.

  Misha didn’t eat. Instead, he took a sip of his glass. He flinched when he swallowed.

  I eyed him. “That doesn’t look like water.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “When you swallowed, you squinted a little.”

  “It’s vodka.”

  I held my spoonful of borscht in mid-air. “You’re more than stressed.”

  “I have several plays to make. Each will determine the ease of these next days.”

  I placed my spoon in the bowl. “I don’t want to bother you.”

  “You won’t.”

  “And. . .” I gripped the edge of the table. “You would tell me any other way I can help?”

  “I would.” He took another gulp of his vodka.

  I watched him. “What could relax you even more than the vodka?”

  “You don’t want me to drink?”

  “I want you to be completely focused. The vodka might not help.”

  “It may.”

  “And you haven’t slept.”

  “I’ll sleep on the plane.”

  “You need to relieve some of your stress.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “You’ll see.” I gestured to the women and nicely told them in Russian to leave. He quirked his brows. The women left the room and closed the door.

  He placed his glass down. “What’s this?”

  I rose, walked over to him, and lowered to my knees. “I can think of other ways to relax you.”

  “Ava.”

  “Move your chair.”

  He rubbed his face with both hands. “You don’t have—”

  “You’re the boss.” I gave him a wicked smile. “Don’t you deserve it?”

  He licked his lips, got in position, unbuttoned his jeans, and scooted them down his sculpted thighs. I freed his cock from those boxer briefs. It hung long and thick in front of me.

  I caressed the mushroomed tip. “How long have you had this erection?”

  “It came when you started shooting.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off its fat hardness. “My shooting turned you on?”

  “First, it’s watching you dance. Now the second is the sight of you shooting.”

  “We’ll have to go to the shooting range more often.” I kissed the tip.

  He hissed.

  I lay soft kisses on the fleshy part of the tip. “How much time do I have?”

  He pierced me with an intense gaze. “Take all the fucking time you want, Ava.”

  “Are you sure?” I lapped at the tip.

  He grunted. “Don’t play with me.”

  “Oh really, Mr. Stronz? You don’t like games?”

  He gripped the sides of his chair. “This isn’t nice.”

  “Karma is a bitch sucking your dick. Isn’t it?”

  He grinned. “That’s fair.”

  I kissed the tip again. “Say sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Sorry for dominating every part of my body last night.”

  “I won’t apologize for that.”

  “Are you sure?” I held my mouth close to his length but didn’t touch it. Then, I blew air on the tip.

  He groaned.

  “I can’t hear you.”

  His voice held pleading. “Sorry, my beautiful ballerina.”

  “Hmmm.” And then I sucked his cock into my mouth, loving every inch. Even though it was hard to get him all into my mouth, I did my best. Grunting, he stirred under me. Up and down, I slipped my mouth on his cock, wetting the entire length with my saliva.

  “Ava.” Groaning, he cupped his hand around the back of my head and guided me through the blow job. That move made my pussy wet. I loved how even when he was in a powerless position, he still dominated.

  “Fuck. You always do this to me.” He tried to move my mouth away.

  I kept it there and sucked him in deeper. It caused me to gag a little. Saliva dripped out of my mouth as I lifted my head.

  Catching my breath, I held his cock in my hand. Precum beaded at the tip. I lapped at it. Misha shuddered under me. When I looked at him, his eyes were low and sleepy.

  He gazed down at me. “You’re going to make me stay here and not go to Paris at all. Already I feel like saying fuck it.”

  I wiped my wet mouth with my other hand. “Do what you want. I have my gun now. I’ll shoot anybody that comes near you.”

  Chuckling, he ran his fingers through his hair. “God, I wish my problems were that easy. You’re so fucking perfect. I can’t wait until life leaves me alone so I can enjoy every minute with you.”

  “Me too.” I put his cock back into my mouth.

  “I love how you suck on my cock.” Groaning, he thrust up. The tip hit the back of my throat.

  Damn. You’re so big.

  My eyes watered. I kept my tongue down.

  “Take it out so I can fuck you.”

  Nope. You’re not taking over this time.

  I continued to suck.

  “Fuck, Ava.” Pumping his cock in and out of my mouth. He gripped the back of my head again. His fingers weaved through my hair.

  “So close, Ava, so fucking close.”

  Still moving my head up and down, I closed my eyes and moved my tongue around his cock.

  He roared. “Dear God!”

  I pulled it out to give me a moment to breathe. Once I caught my breath, I was back on his cock, sealing my lips and sucking as hard as I could.

  When I pulled it out again and looked at him, he wore the expression of a deranged man.

  I widened my eyes.

  Ragged breaths rode the edge in his voice. “Tell me what color do you want the walls in your jail to be. Pink, purple, or blue?”

  “Don’t lock me up, baby.” I licked his cock with several laps—from his balls to the tip. With each lap, he squirmed in the chair. I could tell he wasn’t used to being this helpless and I loved it.

  You’re not the only one that can figure out how to dominate.

  I explored him more with my tongue. His cock was so big. His circumference was so thick. I pressed my tongue along the sensitive nerves underneath the tip of his cock. I’d read that was one of the main spots that drove a man wild while getting his dick sucked. I flicked my tongue, following around the head of his cock.

  He gripped my head harder almost hurting me. “Get up.”

  No. I’m in charge.

  I sucked his whole length all the way in.

  A gasp left him.

  That drove me crazy. My body craved him so badly. But this moment wasn’t about me. The focus was Misha. He had to relax and prepare for whatever he would face.

  Lifting from the seat a little, he rocked into my mouth. It took great strength for him. I matched his rhythm with my mouth. Taking control, he went deeper into me. My throat trembled at the bump of his cock. I made myself relax, gagged, and let the saliva fall all over his cock.

  He groaned loud.

  I moaned along with him, and his rhythm shifted to quick pumps. I gazed at him while he fucked th
e shit out of my mouth. The whole time he watched me. Desire blazed hot in his gaze.

  His voice grew hoarse. “Damn it, Ava.”

  My body hummed with need.

  “Fuck!” His cock jerked in my mouth. Hot cum spilled onto my tongue. He bucked into me. Watching him, I swallowed down the salty fluid.

  “Aww yes.” He groaned. “Suck it all up, Ava.”

  I swallowed every drop.

  His whole expression shattered. “I’m going to make you my wife.”

  Shocked, I slowly moved my mouth from his cock and licked my lips.

  He glared.

  “What?” I blinked. “Don’t look at me that way.”

  “You suck me off like that and think I’m going to be focused on anything else but you?”

  “I’m trying to help.”

  “I don’t even remember what I’m doing now.”

  “You’re going to Paris.”

  “The hell I am!” He scowled.

  “Misha, focus.”

  His phone rang. He made no move and continued to watch me.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Are you going to answer that?”

  He wiped the sweat off his forehead, searched his pockets which were now by his knees, and answered, “What the fuck?”

  I giggled.

  He snapped his attention to me and spoke into the phone, “You damn right you’re interrupting. Go ahead.”

  I rose from the floor.

  Misha tried to grab me.

  I jumped back. “Focus.”

  He hissed and went back to the phone. “What? Say that again.”

  I walked over to my side of the table and sat down.

  Misha’s gaze remained on me. “Are you sure that’s their location?”

  I took a sip of the orange juice to take the salty taste of his semen out of my mouth.

  “Good job. Wake up Maxwell and Naveen. Tell them we’re going to talk to the Xecutioners.” Misha hung the phone and returned to scowling at me.

  “Stop looking at me that way, Misha. I sucked you off to make you happy and relaxed.”

  “You do realize that I was already severely obsessed with you and now. . .”

  “Now?”

  “I’m completely consumed.”

  “Is that why you proposed? Or do you usually ask people to be your wife when they give you a blowjob?”

  “I’ve never muttered the word wife to any woman in my life.” He stood, yanked his jeans up, and walked over to me.