by Bella King
“Yes,” she breathes, her eyes growing wild with sinful intentions.
Her utterance of permission is all that I need to begin what I’ve been aching to do since the moment I laid eyes on her at the bar a month ago. I had gone easy on her then, not letting myself get too carried away, but this time the sex will be different. I’m not holding back, and she better be ready for it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Elaine
I’ve stroked the beast, and this is the gift I receive in return. His lips are honey and fire against mine, feeding the demons inside of me that beg to be set free. I want Nikolai forever, but I’ll accept one more night if that’s all I get from this.
He runs his hands all over me, pulling me in, sinking his body into mine like I’m a tuft of sweet cotton candy. I dissolve under the heat of his lips as they make contact with my neck, a surge of sexual energy entering me upon his fiery kiss.
“Fuck me,” I beg. “Fuck me, please.”
Nikolai pulls up my dress, displaying my ass on the rooftop. It’s a good thing that this building is tall, or someone could see us from one of the surrounding buildings. Considering the circumstances, however, I’m not sure that I would care. I’m consumed by the thought of Nikolai making love to me, and the location is irrelevant.
His large hand moves over my panties, rubbing the wetness that’s already soaked them through. They’re uncomfortably drenched, and I want them off immediately. I don’t want to waist another second of my life without Nikolai inside of me. I need him now.
“I can’t wait any longer,” I say to him, my breasts heaving, nearly spilling over from the revealing dress he bought for me.
“You’re playing with the devil, Elaine,” he says, pausing his rubbing of my pussy for a moment.
“Let me burn in hell then,” I reply.
Nikolai rips my panties off my hips, tearing the fabric with a satisfying crack and pop of the stitches as they break. All bets are off as he takes me by the hair and pushes me over the table, the jingling of his belt causing an instant waterfall of sticky juices from my pussy.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Do it.” I’m egging him on, getting him as riled up as possible so that he’ll be rough with me.
God, I love it when he’s rough. If I can walk after this, then I want it a thousand times harder. I won’t be satisfied until I’m hit the limits of intensity. A month is long enough to drive a woman crazy.
“Give this pussy to me,” Nikolai says, cupping his hand between my thighs and pushing two wingers up into my wetness. He wiggles them, playing in the plentiful juices my body has created for him.
“Put it in,” I moan as I hear the sound of his pants dropping to the concrete floor. The soft crumble of fabric gives me a rush like no other as it foreshadows what will happen next.
Pleasure is already seeping throughout my body, slithering its way between my muscle fibers and bones as Nikolai spreads my pink petals with his skilled fingers. He works my clit with a gentle stroking motion as his cock flops out onto my ass.
The slap of hot flesh against my ass gives me another surge of excitement. The tension coiling inside of me is ready to explode already, and Nikolai isn’t even inside yet. I grip the sides of the table, pushing off plates and breaking them as Nikolai removes his hand from my pussy and replaces it with his massive erection.
“I’m giving you every inch,” Nikolai promises as he parts my hole with the head of his cock.
I arch my back with my breasts plastered to the table as he enters me. He’s able to slide in without issue because of how wet and willing I am, but the thickness of his cock still feels like it shouldn’t even be able to fit inside of me. I’m amazed.
The first thrust is gentle, testing the waters. The second is rougher, showing me who’s the boss. The third sends a strong message that he’s not going to be caring this time, and the fourth is so hard that I nearly slide across the table.
Soon, all the plates, glasses, and silverware have been shaken off the table, nearly sending me with them as Nikolai rams his massive manhood deep into my pussy, pumping his hips with the vigor of a man without nothing to lose. He wants it all, and he wants it right now.
Condoms? Forget about those. Nikolai is going to ejaculate inside of me raw once again, sealing the deal for a lifetime. He must know what he’s doing by now. I haven’t taken birth control. He’s reckless, and there’s no excuse for that behavior unless he secretly wants to get me pregnant.
I already am, but I’ll keep that a secret from him for now.
My thighs dig into the side of the table, probably enough to leave bruises, but I don’t even feel it. My body is numb and full of delightful fireworks of ecstasy at the same time. Euphoria flows through me, eating up every once of doubt and discomfort and replacing it with purity and pleasure. I’m in a different world with Nikolai.
My pussy already starts to spasm as Nikolai works his cock inside of me, rubbing my inner walls with his thickness. I’m climaxing so soon. I grip the table harder, digging my fingers into the wood enough to chip a nail as the first wave crashes through me.
And then another.
And then another.
And then, a crescendo of waves, cascading through my body like a parade of satisfaction. I’m infinite and connected with god, or at least that’s the way it feels. Earth seems like a foggy memory, glazed over with the gooey warm pleasure that’s overtaken me.
“I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum inside of your fucking pussy,” Nikolai says through clenched teeth as he pounds me from the back.
I brace myself for it, adjusting my grip on the table as my own pleasure rises again with a surprising vengeance. Didn’t I just climax?
As Nikolai pumps his thick load of semen into my body, I climax with equal intensity, writhing in his hands and letting out cries loud enough to alert everyone on the block to what we’re doing on the rooftop. His fingers sink into my flesh as he empties everything he has inside of my pussy.
My place my head down on the table, breathing so hard that the moist air forms a puddle on the table. My arms go limp, hanging on either side, and I relax into the wood. In my current state, it feels better than a proper bed and pillow. I could fall asleep on a bed of rusty nails with how relaxed I am.
Nikolai savors the hot grip of my pussy around his satisfied cock for a few moments before pulling out. Cum overflows from me, dripping out onto the concrete as I stay in the same position, unwilling and possibly unable to stand up on my own.
“I can’t get enough of you,” Nikolai mumbles from behind me.
I turn my head to him, a telling smile on my face. “Have more then.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nikolai
I should have stayed with Elaine.
I curse under my breath as a bullet splinters the crate above my head. They have me pinned down, and things aren’t looking good. My gun has four or five bullets left in it, and I’m physically exhausted at a Fedorov warehouse at four in the morning. I didn’t sleep at all last night, but that’s not where my regret lies.
I shouldn’t have left Elaine at the headquarters and come out here. I could’ve been in bed with her, sleeping the morning away after the heavenly sex we had over and over again last night. That would have saved me from the almost certain death I’ve facing now.
There’s so much I still want to do with Elaine, but I might not make it to that point if I don’t find a way out of this mess that I’ve put myself in. I’ve managed to get pinned down behind a stack of boxes. Thankfully, they’re full enough so that bullets won’t pierce through them into me, but there’s nowhere to go from here that doesn’t put me at risk of getting shot.
I got word that the Fedorov bratva was having a major meeting in this place and figured it would be the perfect opportunity to find out who their new leader was. I didn’t think I would get caught so easily, or that the single gun that I brought would have to get me out of here. I don’t have backup.
Anothe
r bullet grazes the side of the box I’m sheltered behind, barely missing my shoulder. If I ever get out of this alive, I’m going to tell Elaine how I really feel. Maybe I haven’t known her for that long, but it’s long enough for me to know that I’m falling in love with her. Honestly, the feelings were there from when I first met her. They’ve only grown stronger since then.
I grip the handle of my gun, keeping my finger on the trigger as I contemplate what to do. I didn’t get to see who was conducting the meeting before I was spotted, so even if I do find a way out, this mission was a waste. All I risked my life for was the realization that I shouldn’t be risking life. Brilliant.
I can smell the acrid fumes of gun smoke close to me, moving like a wall of death toward me. Every bullet that’s fired sounds closer, and I swear that I can hear the reaper gliding toward me from somewhere in this godforsaken warehouse.
Another cluster of bullets zoom past me, and I look toward the warehouse exit door that’s thirty feet to my left. At any second, someone could come through that door with guns blazing and blow my head off. It’s also my only means of escape unless I managed to get my hands on another gun with more ammunition.
“Come out like a man, and I’ll be sure to give you an honorable death,” a female voice calls out once the gunfire stops again.
I freeze, processing the sound of her voice. It’s so very familiar, so distinct, in fact, that it doesn’t take me long to figure out who it belongs to. I have to look up to verify that my hears aren’t fooling me, though.
I pop my head out from behind the crates for a split second, then duck back down as a shower of lead splinters the top of the crate, sending dust and woodchips flying onto my lap and forearms. I’m still alive, but wiser now as to who I’m facing.
Behind the box, there is a group of men, all hunched behind shields, crates, and poles, aiming their weapons at me. These men are hired thugs of little to no importance. They can’t even aim well enough to hit me, and their reaction time is pitiful.
The woman standing in the center as the commander of the Fedorov bratva, hands on her hips, and bold enough not to use cover is Anastasia.
The puzzle pieces click together in my head. She’s the one who sold me fake Phenolide-11. She disappeared because she subsequently took over the Fedorov mafia and started having fun with the very same weapon she pretended to sell to me. Except that she had the real thing.
I would never have thought that Anastasia would turn into a mafia boss. It’s highly unusual for a woman to lead in such a position, but it’s not unheard of. There are a few sects of bratva on the east side of Russia that have female leaders, but Anastasia is the first I know of in this area.
Damn. She could have sold that crap and peaced-out to an island in the Pacific, never to be bothered by the violence and horror that shows it’s face daily when you’re a part of the mafia. She could have stopped anywhere along the path to becoming a bratva queen, but she chose the same life that I’ve been cursed with.
“Anastasia,” I call out from behind the crates.
“I told you to come out so that you could die like a man, not peek your stupid little head out like a pussy bitch,” she shrieks from her position at the center of the room.
“I’d like to keep my head,” I call back.
“You’re going to die, Nikolai. You should have been dead weeks ago.”
I laugh. “Your tricks aren’t good enough to kill me. Unlike you, I have values. I would never use Phenolide-11 on civilians, or even bratva for that matter.”
There is a moment of silence before she speaks again, and the air hangs soggy sheets hung out to dry. “You’re not strong enough to be bratva, Nikolai. I’ve gone where nobody else has. The Fedorov will be the only bratva in Russia. Mark my words.”
Jesus Christ, this woman is crazy. She’s always been a little off her rocker, but now I can see the cracks beginning to split into gaudy chasms of insanity. I used to respect her, but now I can see that evil has poisoned her mind. The well of reason has run dry.
“I don’t want to kill you,” I call out to her. It’s the truth, but I’m hardly in the position to pull the trigger on her without getting riddled with holes anyway.
She laughs, shrill, and dry. The echo of her boots on the cold ground indicates that she’s walking closer to me, taunting me to look over the crates and take my shot. I’m not falling for it.
I clutch my weapon to my chest, counting her footsteps as she continues to move toward me. She doesn’t slow down as she gets closer, and I’m frightened that she might lean over the crates and put a bullet straight down through my dome the second I look up at her.
This is like something out of a nightmare.
I glance at the exit door, calculated how long it would take me to run there. I probably wouldn’t make it without getting hit by a bullet, but would it kill me? I might still make it out of this alive even if I’m wounded.
There’s no signal in the warehouse to call Alek to rescue me. I didn’t even tell him that I was coming here. My mistakes have stacked up against me, and the sound of Anastasia’s footsteps tells me that it’s time to make a decision. Do I run, or do I stay and see what she has planned for me?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nikolai
I never was much of a runner. I used to walk the two-mile stretch that we were supposed to run every day during recess in high school. They expected a lot out of me back then, and maybe I should have listened. I didn’t realize that it could spell the difference between life and death.
Adrenaline can do funny things to you. You can run faster, for one, but you also don’t feel pain. You wouldn’t know that a bullet has torn through your right shoulder until the blood ran down to your hand, rendering the dark steel of your pistol a crimson red. You wouldn’t feel it at all until it was too late.
I burst through the exit door, gulping in the crisp morning air as I stumble out into an empty parking lot. Nobody is waiting to gun me down, and I might be able to make it to the street before Anastasia follows me out and pops me in the back.
I expect my gun to turn cold in my hand, but it doesn’t as I rush toward the open gate leading out into the empty road. It’s slippery, and I don’t know why, but I keep running, breaking out into the road. It’s too early for anyone to be out on it, and that works to my disadvantage. I can’t carjack anyone or hide in the noise. I’m still a target.
I look down at my hand, tainted red with blood from my shoulder. I’m hurt, but I don’t know how badly yet. I try to raise my arm, testing if I can still fire the gun in my hand, but the sting of my wound commands me to lower it.
I swap the gun to my left hand and point it back as I hear the door open to the warehouse. The Fedorov mafia is coming after me, and I won’t be able to run much longer. I fire two shots as I stumble down the street away from the warehouse, trying to conserve the last bit of ammo in case I need it.
I’ll have a phone signal out here, but getting to cover takes priority over calling Alek to pick me up. It would take him about ten minutes to get ready and come here in ideal conditions, but he might take longer because he’s sleeping.
I spot an old car sitting on the side of the road, possibly abandoned, so I duck behind it. I dig my bloody hand into my pocket, flipping open an old black phone and punching in the code to Alek’s emergency line. I press it to my ear so hard that it hurts, listening desperately to the dial tone as I pray for Alek to pick up.
“Hello?” Alek says from the other end, his voice tired but concerned.
“Get me the fuck out of here,” I hiss. “The Fedorov have me pin down, and I’m injured.”
“Where are you?” he asks, and I can hear him rolling out of bed.
“At the eastside warehouse. You know the place. It’s the only one that we haven’t been to recently. Slav will know.”
“I got it. What the hell are you doing there?”
“Hopefully,” I say, clutching the gun in my hand harder, “Putting a bullet throug
h Anastasia.”
“What?”
“Just get down here before I get myself killed, okay?” I growl.
“Yessir,” he replies.
I hang up the phone, shoving it back into my pocket. I’m certain that someone saw where I hid, and they’ll be creeping up on me at any moment. I’ll have to hold them off until Alek can get here.
“Come out, and I won’t shoot you. Maybe we can work out a deal,” Anastasia says, her voice a few meters from the car.
Jesus, that woman doesn’t know when to give up. I hate for it to end like this, but there’s no way in hell I’m working out any kind of deal with her. I doubt she would keep me alive anyway. I’m no coward, and I never surrender.
“I have a grenade,” I yell. “I’ll blow us both up, sky-high.”
“I’m not falling for your bluff, idiot,” she shouts back at me.
It was worth a try. All I need to do is buy time until Alek gets here, but I’m running out of ways to do that.
“Why don’t you back off, and we can both get out of here alive,” I suggest.
“I’d rather kill you, actually,” Anastasia replies.
I’m already hurt, and I might die before Alek gets here anyway. I would hate to lose Elaine because of the poor decisions I made this morning, but that’s the price I pay for the life that I chose to live. Bratva life is tough, and it takes many lives along the way.
Lately, the streets have been too dangerous, the government has been getting involved, and trust has been broken to the point where civilians don’t like mafia leaders anymore. We used to be kings, but because of Anastasia, we’re nothing but criminal scum.
Phenolide-11 should never have been used by the bratva, civilians should never have perished, and Anastasia should never have been put in charge of the Fedorov bratva. We’re at the point of no return because of this, and I have a choice now.
