by Nicole Fox
But that window of opportunity is closed. I know it, he knows it—hell, the waitstaff probably knows it. His taut body, his solid erection, and the power he exudes without even trying is making my body a puddle of need. It feels like my lips are disconnected from my brain.
“I, I ...” I stammer.
Nikita smiles. He knows he has me. He knows what I want.
“I’m done waiting, Annie.”
In one sweep of his arm, he knocks all the remaining dishes from the table and sends them crashing to the floor. Shards shatter and ricochet on the concrete slabs, shooting in every direction. He flings me on top of the table like I’m a weightless rag doll.
“Nikita,” I whimper, but nothing else comes out. I’m at a loss, my mind shutting down and giving over to the need between my legs.
Stupid, stupid girl, screams a voice inside my head, but it’s like it’s talking to me from down a well, it’s so faint and easy to ignore. The blood pounding in my ears, on the other hand, is overwhelming.
And so is Nikita.
My dress catches on the edge of the table when he throws me and hikes up to the tops of my thighs, exposing me to his touch. Nikita leans over me, nipping at my neck with his teeth. One of his hands slides up to where my legs meet. The other reaches up and cups my breast through the thin fabric of the dress. He gently squeezes as his hot tongue snakes around to the base of my throat. My hands find their way to his hair as his fingers push aside my thighs and find my clit. He rubs gently at first. I can feel my wetness soaking his fingertips. Nikita expertly drags his finger from my clit to my opening, drenching it in my juices. He lifts his fingers and pushes them onto my lips, the smell of my own saltiness gently wafting in my nostrils.
“Taste yourself,” he growls, his emerald eyes intensely staring at my lips.
I open my mouth cautiously and he slips his finger into my mouth, my tongue instantly picking up the foreign taste: salty, primal, hot, with a hint of a metal. He removes his finger from my mouth and cups my other breast, squeezing both of them roughly. His thumbs push across my erect nipples and my body quivers and bucks forward on its own.
Nikita pulls forward one of the chairs, sits down, and pushes my legs apart, exposing my pussy to him even more as he leans in, his face inches away from it. He dives in, his tongue splitting my lips apart and lapping up my juices.
“Feels ... so good,” I groan.
My back arches in anticipation. He swirls his tongue over my clit, building up my oncoming orgasm, making me moan louder and raspier, rhythmically licking, and finally inserting two fingers into me, stroking the special spot on my walls. My hands find the back of his head once again and as my hips grind against his soft tongue, each stroke and lick send bolts of uncollected desire through my body, make my back arch, and cause my hands to tug harder on the roots of his hair.
Nikita stops, drawing a gasp from my throat as the cool air wafts between my legs. He stands and leans over me, his clothes brushing against my exposed center. My stomach churns for more. He smiles and takes off his jacket and shirt, revealing his broad, tan chest and shallow abs.
In one swift movement he flips me over onto my belly. I look over my shoulder and see him unzip his pants and drop them onto the ground. As his erect cock bounces up from his boxers, I can’t help but stare. It stands at attention, jaw-droppingly massive, with a gentle curve that threatens to tear me apart. Blue veins trace over the thick girth. When he takes his erection in his hand, stroking so gingerly that I can see the precum gathering at the tip, I can’t help but imagine him masturbating. The thought sends my need ratcheting up to an even higher level.
“You want this, Annie?” he taunts, taking the tip and slowly rimming my opening and clit. Each touch is overwhelming on its own; altogether, it’s enough to keep me from forming complete sentences. I let out another stifled moan, backing my ass up slowly, signaling to him that I want him in me as soon as possible.
After a few more long moments of teasing with his member, he plunges it into my pussy, sending thousands of pleasure ripples through my body as his whole cock pushes against my walls, making them squeeze it even tighter. I close my eyes and my hips move on their own, hungrily taking his cock and slowly releasing it, the ripples turning into tidal waves pounding through my body.
“Fuck ... You’re so tight ...” Nikita breathes unevenly between thrusts and low, lustful grunts. His hands squeeze hard into my hips, directing me exactly where he wants.
I turn my head around as he grips me tighter and fucks me harder. He throws back his head and lets out a low and raspy growl of his own. Our eyes meet and his flash with lust and greed. Nikita lifts his hand and quickly slaps my ass, making it sting and making me groan out of frustration and hotness. The sharp and sudden pain adds a delicious edge to the rumbling tension building deep in my core. One of my hands finds its way to my clit and quickly rubs with the rhythm of his thrusting. Abruptly, he takes me by my hips again and starts pounding quicker, groaning with each pump.
“Nikita ...” I struggle to breathe out as the pleasure builds up. I turn back to look at him again and he stares back, his eyes darkening. He’s about to cum as well. My eyelids flutter as my pussy pulsates around his cock. I shudder and all my muscles tighten.
I open my eyes again. Nikita growls, pulling out his penis, his hand quickly stroking his hardened cock. He releases his cum, hot and salty, all over my breasts and the top of my dress as he lets out the lowest, longest moan of ecstasy yet.
Chapter Twelve
Nikita
What just happened should terrify me.
No words can describe the orgasm I just had with Annie. I’ve had countless women in my lifetime. They flock to the power, the money that my position brings. But this ... this was different. It feels like I gave part of my soul to her when I came. In that moment, I would’ve traded everything I’ve ever owned for just one more second inside of her.
In other words, I lost control. And that’s a dangerous, dangerous thing.
I dress quickly, fighting to steady my breath and regain my composure. The last thing I want is for her to see the weakness she just revealed. I can feel my cock, still hard and throbbing as I zip up my suit pants.
Annie coils up, her eyes focused on the ground, a faint flush to her soft skin. She chews her bottom lip as she uses a napkin from the table to wipe my cum off her breasts. I can’t help but eye her body as she does. Her curves are lovely—not the surgically enhanced fakeness I normally favor. The natural shape of her body is something different, something more intoxicating.
As the glow fades from my skin, I can feel the familiar coldness settle back in. I may have lost control, but I won’t make that mistake again. And right now, I need to reassert the power dynamic here.
I fix Annie with a sharp gaze. “Fix yourself up,” I say as I grab my shirt from the floor.
She slinks off the table. Once standing, she adjusts her dress to make sure she’s covered. She runs her hand through those luscious brown curls and ties them back with a band. Her neck bears a faint hickey.
She looks at me, and the heat that had taken over her eyes while we danced is dissipating. I see the same hardness I saw over dinner. She thought she could fool me, manipulate me, as if I wasn’t expecting her to try some new plan of escape. Her ploy with Jimmy caught me by surprise, but I’m not the type of man to make the same mistake twice.
She isn’t getting away again.
She can see that I know it, that her chance to slip away is long gone. The feistiness is dying a slow death, but it’s dying nonetheless. Maybe she’ll accept her fate soon. Maybe she’ll finally realize that’s not going anywhere.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Annie says as she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She stares at the ground, and her voice is hushed and almost mournful. She raises her gaze to meet mine. “I still want to go home.”
My lip twitches and I focus on the hickey. For another dangerous moment, I feel a twinge of sympathy
. Maybe I should let her go. She’s far more innocent than the girls who usually come through the auction, the ones who know that they were destined for a grim fate. This one refuses to buckle, despite the odds she faces.
But she’s marked. She’s mine. I paid a fortune for her, and now I’ve claimed her with my cock. I refuse to let her go. Besides, a girl with fighting spirit like her won’t disappear if I send her home. She can pick me and half of my lieutenants out in a lineup, and I wouldn’t put it past her to go straight to the station with a nasty story and the bruises to prove it.
No, despite the unusual thoughts running through my head, I can’t afford to be weak here. I need to make her understand the situation. And even more than that, I need to reassure myself that I’m still in control.
When I answer her, I choose harsh words. I want this new reality to sink in for her. “I don’t think so, kitten. It was a nice fuck. And I will have you again. Get it through your head ... you’re mine. There is no going home, so don’t let me catch you trying to escape again.”
I watch her face closely, but she doesn’t react. She merely blinks, then looks away to where the moon is cresting over the horizon. She’s an interesting character. There’s far more to her than meets the eye, I think.
I frown, deep in thought as I finish buttoning my shirt and reach for the jacket on the floor.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something isn’t right. As I straighten, I glance around. Nothing appears out of place. But I’ve learned to trust my gut. In my line of business, paying attention to the body’s signals helps one stay alive. My focus turns to Annie, who stands next to the table in silence, wringing her fingers and avoiding looking at me.
The terrace is silent.
The music has stopped.
“Stay here,” I order. I head inside, tossing my jacket on the table as I walk by.
Jimmy still hasn’t appeared, but Nikolai should’ve been standing guard. My men know to give me privacy when I fuck, but they’re never too far. I stride deeper into the loft. Maybe he’s sitting at the bar by the radio controls. He might’ve grabbed some spare food and decided to eat while I took Annie.
I turn the corner and all the air rushes from my lungs. Nicolas is lying facedown on my floor in a pool of his own blood. I hurry over to him and bend down next to the body. A long slit runs across his throat, blood flowing thickly from the gash. In the light of the penthouse, it’s a grotesque crimson, sticky to the touch.
“Oh my God.”
I jump up and spin around. Annie stands there with her hands covering her mouth, tears in her eyes. Real blood is nothing like movie blood, just as real death is nothing like movie death. There is no amount of horror that can prepare a person for seeing the life ebb from a dying body. Nicolas’ eyes are wide and vacant. He’s long gone.
Annie takes tentative steps toward me, her eyes focused on the body. She doesn’t scream or try running for the elevator. I’m thankful that she hasn’t yet made too much of a fuss. Something very bad is happening.
I stand and sprint back out onto the terrace, grabbing Annie’s forearm and dragging her with me. We need to get out of here, but the keycards to the elevator are in my jacket sitting on the table outside.
Just as we cross the threshold, mercenaries swing over the edge of the rooftop.
They’re clad in all black, teeming with weapons and aggression. One of them steps forward in a cocky saunter. “Nikita Lavrin,” he drawls.
My hold on Annie tightens as we stop in our tracks. “Annie, stay close,” I whisper.
“So, this is the whore Gino is going crazy over.” He rolls up his ski mask to take a closer look at her. His tongue shoots out and runs across his lips like he’s savoring a hot meal. I feel an irrational anger curl in my gut. The men level their guns at us.
“Why have you come to my house?” I say. As I talk, I’m inching towards the large plant to my left. “If Gino has a problem, he should have taken it up with the council.”
The man snorts. “Gino prefers to handle his business himself. He doesn’t need to ask permission from anyone to obtain what was stolen from him.” The mercenary leader takes a slow stride forward to close the gap between him and us. He walks around Annie, trailing a gloved finger over her bare shoulder, across the back of her neck, sizing her up. “Especially a morsel this tasty.”
I can feel Annie stiffen in my grasp at his words. The soldiers circle us and cut off my path to the keycards. The elevator is no longer an option. But the fire escape behind us could work, if we can manage to turn and run without catching bullets in the back. It should work. It has to.
I tense my hand. I’m closing the distance; the plant is just a foot away to my left.
“The council won’t take this attack lightly,” I warn. A little farther. I’m almost close enough to make my move.
“No, they won’t. But no one will be around to let them know it was Gino.”
In one smooth motion, I throw Annie across me, behind the large stone pot that houses the plant. At the same time, I stoop and grab the gun I keep hidden among the roots, then swivel to wrap my throat around the leader’s throat in a chokehold. I press the gun against his head. “You might want to rethink what the fuck you’re doing,” I hiss in his ear. “Tell your men to stand down.”
The man snickers. “You’ll never make it off this roof alive,” he says. Even with a gun pressed against his temple, he’s a cocky asshole. But he’s right—we’re vastly outnumbered. I just need a distraction.
My eyes scan around the terrace, looking for something, anything that could help us. A few seconds is all we need to turn and make it to the fire escape over the edge of the roof behind me. The mercenary soldiers all have their guns pointed at me as they step slowly closer, but they don’t dare to shoot for fear of striking their leader, who is still caught in my chokehold.
Then I see it.
There’s no time to hesitate. I release my chokehold and kick the leader a few feet forward. One quick pull of my trigger finger is one quick bullet to the back of his head. Before his dead body has even hit the ground, I’m already swiveling up and to the right. I take aim and fire.
My second bullet hits a light, casting a warm glow out over the terrace. I had it specially installed three months ago. It’s a special gas fixture—expensive, and highly flammable.
The shot causes a small explosion. Shards of glass lance outward, and the rush of heat sends a few of the men stumbling backwards. For now, it’s enough.
I turn and grab Annie’s upper arm. We sprint to the edge, where a low wall runs along the border of the roof. I fire a few blind shots over my shoulder, hopefully accurate enough to keep the advancing soldiers at bay for just a moment longer.
“Jump!” I shout.
“What?!”
“Jump over the side of the wall!”
“Are you crazy?” Her eyes are wide like a doe’s.
Before I can answer, a bullet flies through the foliage of the plant and grazes my shoulder. A light spray of blood erupts and I roar in pain.
I turn back to her. “Now!”
The cold rage in my voice is convincing enough. She swallows hard and jumps over the side. I follow. We crash into the metal platform below. I immediately feel a searing pain lance through my knee, but I ignore it. I can’t afford to succumb to pain now. We get to our feet, and race down the stairs. Annie slips and tumbles down a flight of stairs. I reach her, drag her up, and pull her after me.
My knee is screaming at me as we race down the sidewalk. I’m still holding Annie’s hand. We sprint down the wet pavement littered with garbage, across the street, and sprint in front of a passing bus that lays on the horn. On the other side of the road, Annie stops and bends over, hands on her knees, breath coming in ragged, painful gasps.
“We can’t stop. Keep moving.”
She nods in exhaustion and pushes forward. When I glance down, I notice she is barefoot and tracking blood with every step. She must have
stepped on broken glass. But she doesn’t complain, just looks to me for direction.
“Do you need me to carry you?”
“No,” she mumbles. “It’ll just slow you down. I’ll keep up.”
We race into the night as fast as we can manage.
***
Finally, nearly three miles away, we come upon a cobblestone building: a Bratva safe house. Annie and I stumble up the steps and I use a keypad to open the door, shoving her in first. When the door is closed, I triple-lock it and head up to the next flight where Annie awaits.
“There’s a change of clothes in the room down the hall. Throw something on, now,” I say.
She nods and races off while I head to the closet in the other end of the house. Throwing open the closet door, I’m met with myriad guns and weapons. I grab some new weapons and start to pack as much ammo as I can into my pockets.
Footsteps pad down the hall towards me. Annie enters. She’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “There should be some women’s shoes in the closet to the left.” She opens the closet door and starts digging. I return to my task, making sure the bullet magazines are all full. God only knows how long it will take Gino’s soldiers to show up. We didn’t exactly make an inconspicuous scene—a limping, bloodied couple in fancy dinner clothes sprinting through the city—and there’s no telling how good Gino’s intel is. If he knows about the safe house, then we need to get the fuck out of here as fast as possible.
I go to tuck a knife in my pocket and the motion sends a sudden lightning bolt of pain piercing through my injured shoulder. I drop the knife and a groan escapes my lips.
Annie is next to me instantly.
“We should take care of that.”
“There’s no time. The only way for anyone to get up to my penthouse is if they had the password to my security system.”
Annie gasps. “That means ...”
I nod.
