by Rie Warren
Inside the ringed area were two booths now instead of one to accommodate our ever-growing numbers. Husbands. Wives. The Irish in-laws . . .
I knew one thing for sure. I wasn’t going to be casually flirting with Lucky anymore because I didn’t want to piss off Maksim the way I used to. But I did send the oldest O’Sullivan brother a little wave and a smile—such innocuous gestures, and still Maksim growled before coming forward to pull me to him and stake his claim.
Ah, well. What were you gonna do?
Papa sat at one booth with an unlit cigar clamped in his mouth, his hand thumping down on the leather padding. “Sasha. Maksim. Join me.”
It still amused me that he no longer fired up his stogies wherever and whenever he wanted to. Hell, the man owned half of Boston but had somewhat tamped down his public-smoking ways in deference to Jo’s pregnancy.
Speaking of . . . since Saoirse’s birth, Jo had given up on the non-alcoholic spritzers and was definitely on the sauce tonight.
There were already buckets of champagne, bottles of vodka, and Jo’s favorite . . . Jameson whiskey arranged across the table.
As if some old ways would never change no matter how much the Krasnovs, Zolotovs, and O’Sullivans mingled, the Irish stuck to whiskey, the Russian men to vodka.
Lucia and I were all about the bubbly, and she and I clinked glasses.
Dex, Kelly, and Lucky surrounded their little sister who had an even bigger mouth than I did. She tossed back a neat whiskey, Kirill tipping his shot glass in her direction.
“Where’s my niece tonight?” Lucky asked.
A chorus of “Our niece!” came back at him—from the Irish and the Russians.
“Lucky, you really think a nightclub is an appropriate place for a baby?” Jo elbowed her oldest brother.
“Why not? You live above one.” That was Dex, the youngest, with the smart-assery.
Kirill grinned. “She is with Baba tonight. Being spoiled.”
“I will go home soon and check on Saoirse.” Papa looked longingly at the unlit cigar between his tatted fingers. “Story time is my favorite part of the day.”
The mention of story time brought an unpleasant reminder of Oleg, which Maksim figured out as soon as my fingers trembled on the thin stem of my glass. I’d told him everything during my whole angsty recovery, and now he drew me closer.
“Don’t think about him. Not right now.” Maksim’s low whisper of reassurance pulled me back to him.
Back to the present where I belonged.
At that precise moment, Jo let out a loud whoop-holler. “It’s a pump and dump kind of night, folks.”
“Okay.” Kelly, the middle bro, made a retching noise. “Not something I want to hear my own sis say.”
“Which reminds me,” Jo said. “It’s about damn time at least one of you settled down, don’t you think?”
“Uh, no.”
“Negative.”
“That would be a not in this lifetime,” the Irish trio chimed in.
Meanwhile, Arkady, Kirill, and Maksim gave wry chuckles.
All three of the Krasnovs had thought the same thing not so long ago and look at them now.
I kissed Maksim on his jawline then smoothed my hand onto his lower abs beneath the crisp shirt just to feel his muscles jump. He stretched his far leg out away from me as if he was afraid I’d start a foray up the inseam toward what was no doubt a growing bulge there.
Leaning closer, I whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to feel you up in public.”
His side-smile made my heart flip-flop. “I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions if you did.”
Yum.
A little while and several glasses of champagne later, I made my way over to Valeria who’d also been invited. She too had become part of this family, integral to the goings on at the mansion and a great help to Baba. I knew Papa paid her well and made sure she had anything she needed. It was as though he’d made a vow to himself about the young Russian woman who’d been kidnapped from her own people by the Sicilians. To keep her safe as he’d tried to do with me.
I brought her a glass of rosé wine that I knew she liked, and she took a quick gulp.
“Why are you standing on the sidelines?” I asked, tucking my arm through hers.
“It is . . . overwhelming. Never do I go to place like this before.”
I got that. And, thank god, I didn’t feel an ounce of jealousy toward her anymore. Not that she wasn’t a hottie, even more beguiling because of how pure she was.
It was absolutely impossible to feel any ill will toward such a genuine person.
“It’s okay. It’s just family, right? I mean, you can ignore all the people out there. We won’t let anything happen to you, and you should really show off that dress because you look stunning, Valeria.”
She did for sure. I’d arranged for Maksim to let the two of us go shopping for the occasion. With my help, the dress we picked wasn’t showy or a showstopper or too short. The deep blue accentuated her sleek figure in a classy way.
I brought her over to Lucia. Arkady’s wife was much less raucous than Jo, and she was also the one who’d found Valeria in the first place then made Arkady save her.
With them paired up, I knew the woman we’d taken under our wing would feel more comfortable.
“Grigor! Come have a drink,” Kirill called to his soldier protégé.
The young man ambled over to his boss. “Is this a joke?”
“Oh, Grigor.” Jo patted his arm then tugged him into a booth. “You need to lighten up.”
“It is hard to lighten up when I must keep you safe,” the young soldier muttered.
All of a sudden, Kirill looked like he regretted his invitation, going all grrr-attitude. “I keep my wife safe. You are backup.”
Rolling my eyes, I pressed a hand against Kirill’s chest. “Okay. Enough with the big-dick competition. Just get him a drink already.”
Kirill stared at me. Maksim glowered too. Awkward. Like how did I know Kirill had a big one? Duh. If Maksim was anything to go by . . . Also Jo, Lucia, and I spent a lot of time together and those girl convos were notorious. We only included Baba. And she was well entertained.
The big dick mishap was quickly water under the bridge with more beverages, louder voices, and lots of stories told around the tables.
Stories that innocent bystanders probably shouldn’t ever hear, but there were no innocents among the inner circle especially after Valeria made her goodbyes and departed with Papa.
Later, I was just returning from the restroom when some nobody civilian approached me.
“Buy you a drink?” he asked.
I did a quick pass over him. Off-the-rack suit. Tie askew. Hair messed up in a carefully disheveled way that had probably taken half an hour to perfect and lots of product. Definitely not my type because only one man was my type.
“Hard pass,” I said.
“Aw, don’t be like that.” He moved to block my way, and I could easily call down a full complement of Bratva soldiers on him or stick him with my own blade, but I didn’t sense any real harm from the Joe-Schmo.
“Say, are you foreign or something?” he asked. “You look different and you sound different.”
I almost snorted at his pickup line. I wasn’t exactly a Southie but I didn’t think I had a thick Slavic accent either.
Meanwhile, the cheap suit gave me an I’m-undressing-you-with-my-eyes once over.
“Just one drink,” he wheedled some more.
“I’m not interested, and I don’t think my husband—”
“Would approve.” Maksim’s black voice had a cutthroat edge and came from just over my shoulder where he loomed larger than life.
The Suit’s eyes went so wide I saw a lot of whites.
Linking an arm around my waist, Maksim pulled me back to him. “She is my woman. My wife. Unless you want to meet the bad end of my good gun, back the fuck off and get the fuck out of my club.”
So hot.<
br />
“Wow.” Turning into him while the man skedaddled, I coasted my fingers down his solidly sculpted chest. “You didn’t even knife him. I’m impressed by your control. Speaking of control, did you notice I didn’t flirt with Lucky?”
I was goading him, and I knew it.
Maksim’s features became even harsher. “You smiled at him.”
“You said hello to Valeria. Did I bite your head off?” I actually had no malice toward Valeria whatsoever, but Maksim would take the feisty bait.
Bringing both hands to the sides of my face, he stared at me with lusty intensity. “Do you really want to fight here?”
“Only if it means a spanking later.”
His furious kiss came hard and fast. His mouth on mine was overwhelming, overpowering, everything I’d wanted all evening long.
“It is time to go upstairs,” he ordered with no further preamble.
Yes sir.
He propelled me in front of him, and I knew he watched my bouncing ass and my swaying hips with each step up the spiral staircase.
Inside our private sanctuary, heat coiled between us when he spun me around to him, and silver sparks shot from his eyes. I thought how awesome it was that during the build-out of the apartment, Maksim had had the forethought to soundproof the space. We couldn’t hear the ambient noise of the nightclub and they wouldn’t hear us.
I had a feeling I was going to be screaming in dirty pleasure tonight.
Flipping my eyes to his, I asked coyly, “Is this the part when I have to obey you? What are you gonna make me do, Maksim, hmm?”
“Take off that dress if you intend to keep it.”
Oh yes.
I released the thick shiny belt first, letting it drop loudly to the floor. “What about my high heels?”
“Da.”
I dangled one of the dress’s straps from my shoulder and shimmied back and forth. “My panties too?”
“Sasha!” His voice cracked across the air, the sound like a firm swat to my bottom.
Despite the bite of his voice, I knew he was so aroused he was one step away from tossing me to the floor and slamming his pierced cock into me.
Bending over from the waist, I provided Maksim a prime view of my breasts within the loose drape of the dress.
He made a rough grunting noise.
Balancing ever so delicately, I plucked off one stiletto then the other and carefully set the sexy shoes side by side.
When I regained my slinky posture, Maksim watched with eyes ablaze.
An impatient sound—deep and low—coursed from him.
I slipped one strap down. Then the other.
I pushed the bodice beneath my breasts, smiling and sultry when he cursed.
I skimmed the dress down my legs and slowly tucked my fingers beneath the thin string of the panties at my hips.
Pausing, I glanced up at him through my eyelashes.
He nodded curtly.
I lowered one side of the panties then another. Then I swiveled around, popping out my ass.
“Fuck. Sasha.”
The dainty scrap of fabric rolled over the jut of my rear end then whispered to the floor. I stepped from them before pivoting to face him.
And, in the end, I wore nothing but a wicked smile.
Maksim’s smoldering gaze was like pure burning steel as he stalked closer.
“Now undress me,” he commanded.
“My pleasure,” I purred, making sure my bare breasts brushed the front of his jacket.
Palms sliding up his lapels, I began with his tie as his fingers ghosted from my hips to my waist. With his tie unknotted, I pulled the thin silk length from the starched collar. And Maksim’s hands drifted up to cup my breasts.
“You’re distracting me.” I listed against him before shifting the jacket from his big shoulders.
“Good.” He dragged his knuckles across the taut peaks of my areolae.
My breath hitching, I began popping open the buttons down the front of his shirt. When it was parted down to the shirttails, I dove inside with both hands, watching a wealth of hard sinews and tattooed skin revealed.
The shirt sailed to the floor, my mouth following suit down his muscle-carved torso.
As my breasts became out of reach, he drew calloused palms up my arms and onto my neck.
I slid to my knees, my lips parted to taste the hard flesh of his abdomen. I unleashed his belt and let it go the same way his tie had with a heavy clunk of the buckle. Dipping my fingers between his trousers and his lower stomach, I trailed my tongue along the deep dents of muscle on the two sides of his pelvis, the notched arrows that pointed down to the straining clothbound cock.
He sucked in a breath while I tackled the button, the zipper. His shaft bucked beneath the fabric, the bulge snaking down along the inseam.
I grew almost delirious to touch and taste what was hidden, impatient to feel the weight and heft of his thick cock in my hand.
I pulled his pants down, biting my lip when I found he’d gone commando. “Mmm, Maksim. Is this all for me?”
He grunted something, kicking the trousers, socks, and shoes away.
I slid my cheek against his unyielding erection, inhaling the manly scent through my nose. As I pulled back, a fat drop of precum pearled at the slit in his cockhead, glimmering off the PA piercing.
I struck forward to lick the tasty morsel away, but he grabbed a hank of my hair, holding tight.
“Nyet.” Deep, gruff voice. Rough, heavy accent.
“Please,” I whispered, lifting my shaded eyes to his.
After a heartbeat of time and another of his curt nods, he murmured, “I control.”
My nipples pinged up, my sex soaking itself at his dark command.
My hair in a leash around his fist, he angled his cock down with his other hand. And control me he did with long, thorough thrusts that rolled the shiny piercing and thick blunt head over my tongue. He plunged to the back of my throat then pulled all the way out. My tongue continued to swipe until he chuckled and fed his massively hard cock back into my mouth.
Rhythmically. Rigid. Rock-fucking-hard.
He used my lips and mouth and tongue and the throat I opened up for him though I could never take him all. My hands lay palms up on my thighs in a perfect pose of submission. My breasts pointed outward, dizzying spirals curling through me each time my nipples crashed against the front of his legs. I gave myself over to him . . . his to control. His to command. His to come all over.
After a few reckless pumps with his hand forcing my face toward his groin, he yanked me off of him.
He drew me to my feet. “Bedroom.”
Dizzied with desire, I pranced ahead of him, hearing the deep staggered breaths behind me.
In our room, he swept me up then deposited me swiftly on the edge of the bed. He jerked my legs wide, dropped to his knees, and planted his whole mouth against my pussy.
That scream I’d been holding in rippled from my throat, wicked wanton heat traveling from the center of my wet need up to my swollen nipples.
My sex unfurled beneath his talented tongue. My toes curled into the plush carpeting. My hips pushed forward until he grabbed great big palmfuls of my ass to lock me in place where he wanted me.
And what he wanted, evidently, was for me to stay still beneath his marauding mouth.
“Ahhh!” Another yell combusted up from the place where he feasted so all-consumingly.
My fingers scrunched into his thick hair. “This hardly feels like . . . oh . . . punishment.”
Maksim nibbled at my clit before bathing me in the wide swathe of his tongue. “When did I say I was going to punish you, Sashenka?”
I could no longer form thoughts or make words, my body going fluid before arching into the spinning web of lust he’d wrought so decadently.
I climaxed into his mouth and he drank of me furiously, his jaws working, his chin rubbing, his tongue delving into my clenching insides. Then he imparted a sharp bite to my inner thigh, s
ending new tremors through me.
Face awash with stark desire, he stood, the glorious length of him an erect throbbing pole of meat right in front of my face.
Too soon for me to take him back in my mouth again, he loped around and stretched out on the bed.
I followed his prowling movements with heat in my eyes.
Once he’d settled on his back, his cock a rampant display, he ordered briskly, “Ride me.”
I obeyed for sure. Probably not exactly the way he was expecting though.
“What are you . . .?” he asked as I perched on top of his loins only to swing my body around so I could fuck him reverse cowboy style.
“Oh, blyad,” Maksim swore when he saw the new position.
I was going to Blow His Mind.
As I guided his cock to my entrance, his hands shot out to grasp my backside. Then his pelvis bucked up from the bed, impaling me fast and hard on that turgid length.
The shocking depth from below had me howling so loudly, my scream probably rattled the windowpanes in their casings.
His PA never stopped fascinating me, nor did the daunting stretch of him. The pleasure was immense, the heat contagious, the filling explosive.
Then I rose up on my knees, the aching egress of his cock leaving me breathless.
I gyrated back down his shaft, shuddering the entire way. I undulated and ground down and bounced fast every so often.
“Enjoying the view?” I leaned forward between his stretched legs, resting on my elbows as I worked my pussy up and down his straining cock.
He was slathered in my juices, and I twirled up excruciatingly slowly before winding back down his fat rod.
“Guh. You could say that, Sashenka.” Maksim’s fingers dug into my ample backside.
“I know how much you like my ass.” Glancing over my shoulder, my hair clinging to my back, I watched the raw need on his angular features.
I teased him with another sultry circle of my hips and was rewarded with a harsh crack of his palm on my rear end.
I called out his name as he whipped more slaps across my ass.
Then he took over the fucking, a primitive urge unleashing him. He grabbed my hair and my hip and started slamming me up and down to counterpoint hammer-strokes from the root to ready-to-explode head of his cock.
