Nanny and the Beast

by Georgia Le Carre

  Exiting the container, I walked briskly across the construction yard, and was at the makeshift shooting range in no time. Just before I picked up the gun, my phone rang.

  "I have Yulia’s nanny in the car, Boss,” Valdimir said in Russian. “Should I take her to the head office or...”

  "I'm at the yard." I ended the call.

  I slipped a pair of earmuffs on and pulled up the command for the target. Supporting my outstretched hand, I shut one eye, and hit the target right in the brain. One by one. I shot twelve bullets into his brain before her arrival was announced. Some of that anger was still in me, but thoughts of April returned.

  I felt my throat constrict in anticipation. I just knew right now, she was the one I wanted to see more than anyone else in the world. I wanted to touch her, smell her, hear her racing heart, take some of this tension of out my body by slamming into her. I thought of her bent over as she took all of me. Every fucking inch.

  Just how high would that quiet voice of hers go when I finally had her? My cock twitched, I entirely missed the damn target. I put the gun down to get the blood back to my head.

  I looked at the door. Where the hell was she?

  A quiet knock sounded.

  “Come,” I said turning towards the door.

  It opened, but it wasn’t her. It was Alexander, my second in command, and best friend since we were in middle school. He’d clung to me from the moment I told him how dangerous my family was.

  “How did your mom die?” our schoolmates had asked me.

  “My father shot her,” I’d answered dryly.

  Some had believed me and fled. Others had labeled me sick in the head, but this yellow-eyed, Godzilla of a boy had seen something in me, and stayed by my side. Whether he’d believed me then or not, I would never know, but either way as the years went by, he’d refused to leave and I realized no one else in my life could strike that deep note of affinity I had with him.

  “What’s messing with you?” he spurted out in Russian, his eyes on the stray shot.

  I let out a heavy sigh and picked up the gun once again. I pointed it at the silhouette. This time, I added a faultless hole to the rest I’d already shot through its head.

  “Shit goes awry like this all the time,” he reasoned. “Why are you so on edge?”

  “No reason,” I said, turning in time to see his eyebrows shoot up for the briefest of seconds, before he veiled his expression and studied me in silence.

  It was at times like this when I hated him the most. I didn’t need his intelligence and silence. I needed a fucking gorilla who didn’t understand me so well.

  The door opened again, but he didn’t take his gaze off me.

  Cursing him silently, I turned to watch April walk in. She’d changed clothes. She wore a white polo T-shirt and dark blue jeans. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and I could see the beginnings of a bruise on her throat.

  I felt a jolt of possession. Fuck, I did that!

  The door shut from behind her. She seemed unsure of what to do next.

  Alex’s gaze turned to her for a brief second, then back to me.

  I tried to keep my gaze neutral.

  “Hello,” she greeted quietly, then turned to Alex, but seemingly without a clue as to how to address the fearsome stranger.

  Alex scared the shit out of everyone. He had tattoos on his neck and face. And he was as big as a brick outhouse. He gazed unsmiling, at her.

  For a moment, I pitied her. He would watch her until he’d seen what he was looking for.

  Awkwardly, she avoided his stare by looking at me.

  I turned away to pick up my gun. I needed to shave the edge off. “Pick a gun from that rack,” I ordered, and fired off a shot.

  She jumped in fright at the deafening bang.

  When I turned to see her hand clutching her chest and the extent of fear in her eyes, it filled me with remorse for my stupidity. Why did I do it? Because I didn’t want Alex to know? Because she was turning me into an addict for her body? I’d never needed anyone before. I wanted them, I took them and after I had them, I discarded them. I’d never felt this craving.

  Aware of Alex leaning against the table in the corner, I filtered the concern out of my voice and asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m not,” she answered. “I don’t want to be here.”

  I felt a sudden fear that she would leave. Maybe I’d gone too far… and the fear shocked me senseless. I never cared if a woman stayed or left.

  “You need to fuck her hard and quick,” Alex commented in Russian. “Get her out of your system, then dump her. She’s the wrong sort.”

  His voice was like a bucket of ice dumped over my head.

  With that, he rose to his feet and took his leave.

  Chapter 15

  April

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0sw54Pdh_m8

  She Drives Me Crazy

  On my way to meet Yuri, I had run into what seemed to be a man who’d been beaten into a literal bloodied pulp being dragged carelessly across the concrete yard. I got a glimpse of his face. It was so battered his eyes were swollen shut and his mouth hung open. Actually, he might’ve even been dead. There was something heavy and inert about his body.

  Utterly horrified and shocked, I could do nothing but keep putting one step in front of the next. Igor, Yuri’s driver pretended as if he’d seen nothing. We marched across the courtyard. My heart kept pounding in my chest.

  Good God, I’d just seen a dead man!

  For the first time, I started really looking around me. I was in a massive construction yard somewhere out in the East End. We reached the building and Igor opened the metal door and let me precede him. We were immediately in a corridor. We walked along it. We passed one room where the door was open and I could a see cluster of men with visible weapons tucked into their pants, puffing smoke from their mouths, and boisterous tones of Russian from their lips in hearty, or heated discussion, I couldn’t tell.

  I knew only that they had pale dangerous faces.

  Yuri’s words the previous evening, the disappearing act, and the crazy-tight security around the house were already beginning to put images and ideas into my head that made my blood run cold. I’d been all mouth at breakfast, challenging a man whom I realized could quite possibly snap my neck in two with his bare hands, or more easily send one of these hefty Russian brutes I’d passed to handle the job.

  But the gunshot. This was truly the last straw.

  Somehow, without understanding a word of Russian, I knew Yuri’s imposing companion had said something horrible about me. His coarse tone in the foreign language had reverberated through the room and scattered goose bumps across my flesh.

  Yuri wasn’t ordinary. I don’t know about the Queen being a reptile, but in this case, the tabloids were right. The Mafia angle wasn’t fake news.

  When the Russian man left, he turned to me.

  “Why?” I asked simply.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  I could see in his eyes he was sincere, but like he almost didn’t know how to say the word. Maybe it was something people in his world did to people in my world just to see how we would react. It was a big risk. I could have gone to the police.

  Whatever. I knew though he wasn’t going to snap my neck in half with his bare hands. Just like that, I felt the fear in my soul begin to dissipate and in its place, came the charge of primal desire that strung up my body without fail every time I came into his presence. It made me want to claw up along his torso and hang on for dear life… My bare breasts against those pure slabs of muscle that was his chest, his cutting blue eyes on mine, and my tongue in his mouth.

  I shook my head in wonder at the new direction of my thoughts. How could I feel like having sex when I’d just seen a dead body? I must be going insane. This was madness. Wrong. All wrong. I needed to leave. And I had to leave now, before I became this unrecognizable person who got turned on after seeing a dead body. I should have just kept w
alking that day. But I will this time. This time I was serious.

  “April,” he called.

  I didn’t even look at him. I just put one foot in front of the other and kept going. I was leaving and nothing, but nothing would stop me.

  Until the gun went off. He shot me!

  I screamed, but whether it was all in my head, or sounded in reality, I couldn’t tell. My heart collapsed into my stomach. My hands rushed to my ears and my entire frame shivered in mind numbing terror. I felt certain that a hole had been bored somewhere through my body. I waited and waited to feel the pain, or perhaps feel nothing at all as I slipped into unconsciousness, but when I opened my eyes a lifetime later I saw the hole he had blasted instead through the concrete wall near where my head was.

  I spun violently around, in such a rage that the tears spilled from my eyes. “Are you fucking out of your mind?” I screeched. Still reeling from the slam of my heart against the walls of my chest. I charged him. The shock and terror rendering me incoherent even as I shoved him violently. When the joint of one wrist twisted on contact with his rock-hard chest, and with no effect whatsoever on him, both of my arms shot out and attacked him, instead. He allowed me to rain blows on him until I slammed his back into the wall, my chest heaving with uncontrollable fury.

  Effortlessly, he grabbed and held down both my hands. “Enough. Calm down. I wasn’t shooting at you,” he said, his gaze sharp, but his expression stoic and unreadable.

  I knew I must be an unsightly mess. “Let go of me. I’m calm now,” I said through gritted teeth.

  He let go of me and I struck a slap across his face. The sound reverberated as loud as the gunshot earlier. It was as though the time froze. I glared at him, until the madness left my blood, my senses came back and the reality of what I’d just done set in.

  My hand covered my mouth in shock as I gazed at the imprint of my palm on his skin. “I-I didn’t mean to do that. I’m—I—I…” I tried to say, but it was as though I’d forgotten how to speak. I stepped back in fear, sure that whatever happened, I wouldn’t leave here unscathed for what I’d just done. Then I turned around and sprinted for the door, but before I got more than a stride away, I felt a painful hold around my waist.

  It lifted me clear of the floor, my legs, thrashing in protest.

  “Let me go!” I cried, but everything was silenced when he turned me around and crushed his lips to mine. My body was pinned tight against him. My legs were off the floor, my neck twisted to accommodate his wet hot beast of a tongue as it plunged into my mouth. I should have bitten it, but like Pavlov’s dog, I sucked on it automatically, shamelessly.

  His kiss tasted like heaven and hell at the same time; lovely, life-giving heat and the coldest of chills. I couldn’t bare for him to stop, but at the same time, another part of me stood and watched in astonished horror, wishing he had never placed his mouth on mine. I began to push against him, but came to the conclusion that my resistance was all in my head rather than in my actual limbs, since he didn't seem to be stopping and neither was I.

  I turned in his arms when my brain eventually shut down and chased the thrill, chased the fire, and allowed the most delicious man I had ever tasted to devour me.

  The breath was knocked out of me as somehow, my back ended up against the wall. I took great, big gasping breaths when finally, he broke the kiss and buried his face in my neck, his lips, tasting, nipping, and sucking at the tender skin there. I held on to his shirt for dear life, not sure if I was pushing him away or trying to find a way to somehow submerge myself into him.

  “You bastard,” I heard myself say, memories of the fight floating somewhere amidst the mix off maddening euphoria. “I’m sorry,” I heard myself apologize thereafter. I was sure I had lost my mind.

  His lips returned to mine, and I lost all coherence again.

  The next thing I registered was his hands violently tearing at the button of my jeans, and I needed them to be off as much as I needed to take my next breath. His mouth found its way to my breasts, taking in as much of the plump mounds as he could through the material, but I needed more. I ripped the T-shirt over my head ripped away my bra, and with my hands around his neck slammed his face back into my breasts. It was such a disrespect to my own body that I wondered if I would ever be able to forgive myself. But I couldn’t stop. All I needed was him—in me and everywhere around me.

  As one hand plumped at the breast, I’d thrown at him, his mouth was on the other, sucking and nipping at my swollen nipples. He slipped his heavy hand roughly into my panties and grasped at my mound.

  I felt his fingers slide into my dripping wet pussy and for a moment, felt my heart stop. He squeezed the soft supple flesh hard and I felt myself unravel.

  Jesus. What was happening to me?

  It all terrified the hell out of me. This wasn't supposed to happen. This man was too dangerous. A criminal. I let go of his neck and began to push him away. “No!” I cried frantically, and closed my hand around his wrist to pull him away, but he wouldn’t budge.

  “Games, wild cat,” he mocked, as he slipped another finger inside of me, and then another.

  I felt my bones begin to melt. His fingers thrust expertly in and out of me, rapid, and fluid, while I writhed my hips in a crazed trance to meet his onslaught.

  Time passed or stopped, I couldn’t tell, I only knew sensation, the waves of pleasure radiating from his fingers through my whole body. I came hard, hugging his head in wonder. All he’d used were his fingers and I’d been close to losing my mind. I pulled away from him to stare into his eyes. How stupid I had been when I told Charlotte I would merrily walk away when this was over. This would never be over. Not for me. What male would ever live up to this? Now, I knew I wouldn’t be able to survive this man.

  “We have to stop,” I whispered.

  “Why do you keep trying to run away?” he asked. “I haven’t even started with you.”

  I couldn’t respond. Instead, I began to push away, from him, frantic for him to let me go.

  “No,” he snarled. “Not before I’ve had you.” Grabbing both the waistband of my panties and jeans, he tugged them down my legs. Lifting me off the ground, he kicked away the crumpled clothes.

  I was standing buck naked in front of him.

  With a groan, he dropped his head and sucked on the wildly throbbing pulse at my throat. While I was distracted by the sensation, his lips completely possessed mine again.

  I was nothing but a wimp against the wall.

  Without thinking, my thighs spread open when I felt the rock-hard shaft he pushed at my entrance. He stroked the thick head up and down my swollen, soaked sex. Like an animal in heat, I lifted my leg and held on for the ride.

  Lowering himself slightly, he plunged into me.

  Jesus Christ. It took my breath away. My eyes were jammed shut, as the euphoria of the kind of fiery, livid lust I’d never known completely possessed me. I heard a groan.

  Whether it came from him, or me I couldn’t tell—not that I cared.

  Yuri Volkov fucked me so hard my legs completely left the floor. His cock ramming brutally and ceaselessly into me. I couldn’t match his thrusts. Neither could I keep up with his hunger or virility, so I just wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and hung on, as tears rolled down my cheeks for a second time that evening.

  He swore in Russian, while I pulled on his hair needing to vent at his delicious assault.

  To my shock, I climaxed again. This time it was like an explosion. As Charlotte would say, ‘un-fuckin-real’. As my pussy convulsed around his thick cock, my entire being shuddering uncontrollably.

  It tipped him over the edge and he joined me.

  Together, we groaned, grunted and fought to catch our breaths. The first time he made me come, it had been easy to remain soundless, but with the fragments of my senses that I still had a hold on, it registered that I would most probably have trouble speaking or even walking for the next few days. I felt bruised all over and violated, in the m
ost delicious way I could’ve ever possibly dreamed.

  My lips glided across his face in search of his mouth, and I kissed him, deeply, afraid that this moment would never come again. He allowed it and then I felt his thick cock slide out of me.

  I was leaking, both his juices and mine, and it was the most erotic thing I’d ever felt. Oh God, I’d let him come inside me! I panicked and held on tighter refusing to break the kiss or my hold. Just wanting to pretend everything was okay. I could stay in this room like this forever.

  He was the one who pulled away.

  I was too afraid to open my eyes.

  Silence grew between us, and when it became too painful to bear, I brushed my sweat dampened hair across my shoulders, and without looking at him began to arrange myself in order. The walk of shame just started. I picked my panties off the floor. If he apologized, or if he said this was a mistake, or if he said we could just pretend this never happened, I swear, I would kill him in his sleep. But he didn’t say that.

  “I didn’t take any precautions” he stated, his voice strangely hoarse.

  My gaze flew to his face.

  He looked actually a bit shocked, as if this had never happened to him either. He shook his head. “I had a condom in my pocket, but I didn’t think to use it.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it,” I said quickly, and pulled my panties and jeans back in place.

  I saw him reach for me and I was suddenly so alarmed, I moved out of the way. Our gazes met and I could see the anger in his.

  All he’d wanted was to help me.

  “I’m fine,” I said, and focused on straightening my T-shirt. I listened as he arranged himself and pulled up his trousers. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  Towering quite considerably over me, I felt his shadow looming over me.

  “You’ll still have to learn to shoot,” he said, before exiting the room, shutting the door behind him.