I squeezed my legs against the hard strength of his trunk. He was like a tree. My thighs and my ass cheeks clenched and I gasped as his big hand took a hold of my mound. His thumb pressed without mercy on the base of my clit and I bucked against him.
Pulling his hair did me no good, so I slapped his face again, over and over, but he just leered at me as he parted my folds with his fingers. The charge from watching the dark light in his cruel eyes was almost as great as the welling currents that his fingers set flashing and gushing through me.
Luka plucked me off him and spun me in the air like I weighed no more than a glove. Then he dropped me forward and my arms hit the slope of the Jeep’s hood. I kicked back at him and struggled as he pulled my thighs apart.
My voice grated in groans, but I didn’t dare to make words. I would have said no and stop, and those were the last things I wanted him to do. I would have died if he had stopped, even for a moment.
With all the force I could muster, I kicked back at him again, but I just felt the scrape of denim up my inner thighs as his legs came between mine. The back of his hand was against my wet panties as he yanked open his belt and popped open the rivet fly buttons.
His hand and his cock were against me. His fingers toyed roughly with my lips and my hood. At the same time, the head of his cock shoved at the wet fabric, which was all the separated us. All that prevented him from piercing me.
His fist pulled the gusset of my panties and they made a loud rip. The air shocked me, made my hips leap. Then I howled as he stretched me wide, impossibly wide, as he impaled me. I beat on the hood of the car and struggled. He grabbed me by the hair with one hand and slapped my ass hard with the other.
“Now, ride my fucking cock,” he growled. “You’ve been begging for this since I saw you in the bar.” And he poleaxed me with it. He stretched me so wide my mouth opened and my eyes felt ready to pop.
As I flailed on the hood of the car, the massive trunk of him reamed into my sore, swollen wetness. The walls of my pussy hugged and sucked on him, rolling to milk him. His thighs slammed into my bouncing ass.
My quivering mound felt the slap of his balls as he buried his enormous cock right up to the hilt in me. The hard, wide underside scraped my soft spot and he pumped hard and fast.
Luka locked his arm around my leg to pull me even harder against him, to get his cock ever farther up me. My face was hot and wet, and I drooled and panted as the cauldron of sensation inside me bubbled and brimmed over. As I groaned and strained, his hot bolts of creamy fire pulsed into me.
My thighs and my fingers clenched, my toes and my back arched, and as we slammed and locked together, a white flash of sensation flooded me, making me gasp and cry out. Still he didn’t stop, and he beat me more and more as his hot fountain filled me up.
As I went over the last time I caught the flash of that supernova smile and I lost it and shouted his name.
He pounded me as I lay sprawled across the hood of the car, whimpering and helpless, barely able to grip his cock with my weeping pussy.
Good for practically nothing else, my moans and tremors shook and vibrated all the way through me. My breaths sounded like sobs. The groans in Luka’s throat grated as he leaned over me with his hands either side of my trembling ass.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE WAY HER little pussy hugged and sucked on my cock, I couldn’t help myself from getting as far and as hard up her luscious, wet walls as I could and banging my rod as deep as it would go. It was a shock how fast she made me come, and I never had an orgasm quite like it.
My balls had ached non-stop since the time in the hotel room the night before, I couldn’t get her out of my head for some reason, and then being interrupted in the damned elevator, I guess that I’d been wound up beyond normal endurance. Still, I gotta say—hot damn, that was something.
I grasped at her neck, her waist, and her breasts. Alexa wanted me to treat her rough and I did. When she slapped me, it was kind of wonderful. Like a light went on somewhere. It fired me up, and I couldn’t get enough of her as my cock plowed into her and filled her.
Now, hot and still swollen inside her, leaning over her and breathing hard, the low bong of the elevator from the far side of the concrete garage brought me back to earth. I had forgotten that we were completely exposed and in what was actually a public place.
My phone sounded at almost the exact same moment.
“Fuck!” I grated.
“Mmm.” Her shaking voice was as dreamy as her gorgeous, peachy ass pressed back against my hips. I knew the call would be from Bruto. And I knew that I would have to pick the damned thing up. I pulled the warbling phone out of my pocket and scowled at his name on the screen.
The footsteps in the far corner didn’t register until they stopped, just when I hit the button to answer. There was a silence on the other end. Then the footsteps started again and fraction of a second later, I heard them in the phone.
Alexa tightened as she realized some of what was happening. She pulled herself off me and I pulled out at the same time. She was as annoyed as I was, I was sure of it. Bruto’s voice was far off in the concrete echo then, almost immediately digital clear in my ear.
“Luka? You’re here in the garage.”
“What do you want, Bruto?”
“Vassily called. He wants a meet.”
“Okay.” I tried to keep the tired unwillingness out of my voice. “When?”
“Now, you fucking meathead.”
His voice came nearer. I struggled to get my denims closed up and my belt fastened. “Where have you been?” I turned to see him. I didn’t even have an idea of how Alexa looked. I didn’t want to deal with Bruto’s dumbass shit.
I wanted to get a couple of cozy moments with Alexa. The sight of his ugly face made me want to break his nose even more than usual. His eyebrows knotted. “What have the two of you been doing?”
I stood in front of Alexa to head Bruto off. I had done all I could with my jeans and my belt, and I hadn’t even had time to see how it looked. Well, fuck him. If he wanted to make something out of it, we could get into it now.
From behind me, Alexa said, “I made Luka take me for a coffee before I went shopping.”
He was right in front of me as I peered into his face. It was fairly dark in the garage, so I couldn’t tell what he’d seen and what he hadn’t. His face didn’t look like he believed what she’d told him about the coffee, but with agitation twitching under his eye he said, “We need to get a shake on.”
Alexa said, “Vassily wants to see us, okay. So what’s the rush?”
Bruto was briefly stumped. She’d caught him out, responding to Vassily’s demand for urgency. Jumping because Vassily shouted. He looked almost sheepish.
It was a great move on her part, as his discomfort and confusion threw his concentration off and distracted him from wondering about Alexa and me. I knew I would have to get into it with him eventually, but I certainly didn’t see any point in hurrying it along.
Alexa was saying, “Anyway, surely you’re in charge now? You can see Vassily for yourself.” I heard the sarcasm in her voice. “You don’t need me to hold your hand, do you?”
“He said that he wanted you.”
“And what Vassily wants, Vassily gets?”
I thought she might even have been was pushing him a little too hard. His voice was definitely tense when he said, “You come in my car. Luka can follow.”
I was about to say something about that when she told him, “Luka is my protector. He’ll drive me and we’ll follow you.” Bruto drew a breath, but before he could speak, she said, “I’m staying with him, and he’s staying with me.”
“Have it your way,” he snarled, and he headed off for his car. I opened the door of the Grand Cherokee for Alexa and she pressed herself up hard against me, her breasts either side of my arm just for a moment before she climbed aboard. It was long enough to last me for a little while, though.
As we waited for Bruto t
o drive past, I kept catching her in the periphery of my vision, sneaking glances at me. I guess that meant that I was sneaking glances at her, too. The light in her eye gleamed in a way that I hadn’t seen before. Like she was renewed.
I was happy to believe that she was transformed by my magic cock. Wouldn’t be the first time, but even as I was thinking that, I knew, this was different. For her as well as for me.
The way that she made me feel, the way that I felt just being near her, sharing a thought or a joke—she made me feel new, too. Like I had shaken myself out of an old and dark place. Stepped out into the light for the first time in... how long? I couldn’t say. But a long, long time.
When Bruto drove by, I followed him up the ramp and out into the afternoon sun. It felt good, having her sit by me in my car. We slewed around in the traffic, no radio, no music. I don’t think we said three words in the first fifteen minutes.
It’s not often I can enjoy being in somebody’s company without saying anything. Being together, sitting side by side, not in silence but quiet, felt powerful. Right. Everything with Alexa felt right. I wondered if she felt the same way.
Somehow I was sure that she did, but still, I wanted to know. This was all completely strange to me. However beautiful, energetic, and downright filthy women had been in the past, there was always a point where I would look forward to them leaving.
The very thought of Alexa leaving made me anxious. I’d been sneaking glances at her profile. Enjoying the tilt of her chin, the confident way she had about her, always looking like she was thinking, “Yeah? Show me. Prove it.”
I’d never met a woman like her. She made all the women I’d been with seemed like playthings. Like children. Alexa was the real deal.
Alexa was how a woman ought to be. She was a thick, rare steak when before I’d had nothing but hamburger. With no makeup and her hair mussed, she was headed to meet a Russian crime boss. From the look on her face, anyone would think she was on her way to a picnic.
Whatever happened, she didn’t scare. Or if she did, she hid it perfectly. I loved the part where she told me how I got it wrong with Norman.
She was right, but more than that, she told it to me straight. Not just because she had the balls, but because she was right and she knew it.
Thinking about that, it seemed like she didn’t need to tell me. She’d done what she needed to do with the janitor. The only reason she told me was because she saw us, me and her, as a team. True or not, I liked thinking that.
Deep inside, I knew that I wanted a woman like Alexa. And I knew there weren’t any others. Only thing was, I didn’t know if I could hold her, or what I ought to do about it if I could.
Without a doubt, though, I wanted her bad.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BRUTO, LUKA, AND I were met by four burly Russians wearing expensive shades at the foot of a tall, black skyscraper. One was the man whose knife I’d taken and jammed in the tabletop.
They took us up in a private elevator lined with brass and mahogany that they operated with a key. We rose to the seventy-third floor.
Then we were guided through a club. High, tinted windows with the city below were the backdrop to a cascade of low-lit vodka bars. Red and blue and UV lights played on the glistening flesh of girls dancing in glitter and thongs.
Men in expensive suits sat, stood, and clustered around girls with money in their thongs. Past podiums, tiered tables, booths, and small dance areas, we were led through the club to another a private elevator.
This one was black marble inside, and they operated it with a swipe card. Up another story, Vassily was waiting when the door opened.
He took us into a dark, circular room with couches lining the walls. He said, “I’ll talk to Alexa. The rest of you wait outside.” And opened another door.
Quietly, he asked me, “Do you need your guard dog?” and his eyes flicked over to Luka. I was torn. I wanted him with me, to feel the strength I got from him, but I felt that I needed to show some strength to Vassily. Let him see that I wasn’t afraid of him. Even though I was.
I spoke softly as he had done, keeping it as light as I could. “It’s your choice, Vassily. I can have Luka in the room, or your friend’s dagger. Up to you.” I gave him a second to think about it. He was still turning it over, but I didn’t want to break the silence for him.
He said, “I understand. You could be at a disadvantage. You want something to even it up.”
“I’m on your ground. And I’m a woman. Honestly, Vassily? I take you at your word, but I would be an idiot to bet my life on it right now.” He nodded. “And if you thought I was an idiot, I would definitely need the knife, or Luka, or both.”
He smiled. “Have both.” And he called over, “Petrov. Make our guest a gift of your dagger.” The man in the white suit looked unhappy, but when Vassily’s hand extended toward him with his fingers curling, he shrugged and took the dagger from his belt.
He held it out on both hands toward me as he approached, and he smiled and he gave it to me. “Please. I hope you never need to use it, and if you do, that it never fails you.” He made a small bow like you might to a monarch.
The big desk at the far end of the room was room had a chair either side. As Luka stepped in behind us and shut the door, Vassily sat behind the desk. Luka waited by the door. I couldn’t tell whether he would hear the conversation from there or not.
Vassily gave me soft look, something like paternal kindness as he said, “I can be your friend in this, Alexa, or I can be your enemy. The choice is yours. If I am your friend, many good things can come of it. If I am you enemy, you will die so horribly it would shame your mother.” He smiled. “It’s up to you.”
He watched me. “Let me explore it for you. You don’t need to say anything, reveal anything. Who do you have in this business, who is definitely yours? Tony? Where is Tony now, I wonder.” His thumb stroked down his cheek. “I think we won’t see too much more of...” He paused, let me hear that he wasn’t going to say fat. “...of Tony.”
This was an old stage magician’s trick. The “mentalist” talks and watches your face, your body, for tiny tells. He’s already watched how you react to some simple facts and he’s said something that you know is not true. Watched when your eyes flick up to the left, down to the right. Gauged some little tics in your cheek.
My father being such a bad card player, I had worked hard on a poker face. I felt how intently Vassily watched me as he went on, “Now, your guard dog?” I felt a muscle in my face tighten. Vassily gave no sign of seeing it. I was sure that he had, though.
“Maybe he will die for you, that Luka.” He looked in my eyes. “I couldn’t blame him. That guy, Bruto?” His brow darkened. “You’re more likely going to die on his account.”
He sat back as he spread his hands, “So, the big question is Carmine Monreale. How much of his resources can you count on? What would he be prepared to risk for you?”
Vassily had at least two purposes, I was sure. My school friend who knew Russian told me, “Everything in Russia is like the dolls, you know? You see inside and there’s another doll. When you open that, inside there’s another one.”
He wanted to watch and feel how I reacted when he talked about who I could trust, who I couldn’t. He was looking to see what I thought, not only what I knew. And more, I felt like he was trying to learn something else about me, as well as showing me something about himself.
If I hadn’t known better, I might have thought this was part of a courtship ritual. A mating dance. His eyes were brightly focused on me and his nostrils were open, like they would be on an opponent or an enemy.
Perfectly Damaged: Luka : A bad boy mafia romance Page 12
