She leaned back onto his chest and tried her best to grind her ass down, giving him that last unexplored inch of her. A loud smacking sound brought a moan from her lips. Legs spread wide, she ground her ass into his cock while slapping and rubbing her big, rosy clit, crying out each time she hit herself.
Buried all the way in her anal glove, Aaron was fast reaching another peak. He gave his submissive sex slave what she wanted when he bit down into the back of her shoulder and pinched her nipples. He twisted back and forth on her hard pebbles and she twitched and bucked as he hurt her just the way she needed it. Sucking down her delectable syrup, and tugging her breasts, she spewed a stream of Russian obscenities as she smacked her pussy harder and harder until her back arched. The explosive joy of her gushing wet multiple orgasms sent her screams echoing off the walls of the room.
He couldn’t hold back any longer. Aaron slammed his cock deep into her ass and emptied himself. He released his bite and breathed in heaving gasps as the last spurts of his come filled her.
Natalya was a writhing, moaning, shaking mess. She wouldn’t stop squirming and grinding down on his cock until he rolled her over to the side and pulled out of her sore, abused ass. She turned in his arms to face him, joy and exhausted gratitude on her tear streaked face. She embraced him and cried on his chest. The streaks of her mascara on his skin showed proof of her total submission. Though he didn’t understand her Russian words of commitment, he had tasted her emotions enough to know that he owned her now, completely.
By giving her exactly what she needed, he’d fulfilled her deepest, darkest cravings. She was his for the taking, whenever, forever. Natalya accepted him as her master for life.
He had tamed the tiger.
* * * *
Chapter 23
Aaron gripped his naked bloodslave’s slick-oiled hips tightly as he helped her down the stairs and back to the booth where Svetlana waited alone. The blonde looked thoroughly bored, but she watched him closely as he wrapped Natalya’s fur coat around her and buttoned it up.
Natalya leaned back into the seat, and her lazy, glazed eyes landed on Svetlana as she giggled. “Your turn.”
Svetlana blushed and caught Aaron’s eyes. She held his gaze, and her hands fidgeted nervously. Svetlana broke away from the awkward moment and her eyes traveled to the naked women plying the men at the bar for money and drinks. She obviously wasn’t comfortable in this place, and he couldn’t blame her.
“Would you find Michelle and Oksana, so we can go?”
She nodded and kept glancing back at him as she walked away. She seemed fascinated at how he curled Natalya into his protective embrace. He didn’t know what Svetlana expected, but this probably wasn’t it.
The thought came to mind and put a smirk on his face. What would Dmitri do? Dmitri probably would have dragged all the girls into a room for a grudge-fuck orgy. The man’s bed was the size of Rhode Island. The idea had merit, but Svetlana would probably hate him for it, and surprisingly, he actually gave a shit what she thought of him.
A few minutes later Svetlana returned with Michelle and Oksana. Both girls had damp hair, and swollen lips curled in satisfied smiles. A whole lotta wet pussy on that menu. Michelle waved with one hand, her other hand entwined with Oksana’s like teenage lovers.
He stood and slipped his arm around Svetlana before she could sit down again. Fear and uncertainty flashed in her eyes, confirming his suspicions that she’d been abused and debased by Dmitri. She probably feared Aaron would do the same.
“Stop worrying, please. I don’t want anything from you. Except to see you enjoy the evening.” She watched him with suspicious eyes, her body stiff in his loose embrace. “Is there somewhere you’d rather go? Another bar or nightclub?”
A slow change came over her face as she took in his words. “I like to dance.” Her eyes flicked over to a naked blonde dancing on a man’s lap with her legs spread as though fucking him. “With my clothes on.”
Aaron chuckled. “Okay. Guide us somewhere fun.”
* * * *
The limo let them off at an older brick building with a nondescript entrance and a small glowing sign above the porch #LMFAO. Aaron had to laugh aloud. He caught Svetlana’s genuine grin. “This is where you want to go?”
She took his hand and pulled him from the limo onto the crowded sidewalk. Every time the entry door opened a house-techno blend of obnoxious Russian dance music assaulted Aaron’s senses.
“This club is newer, but it’s my favorite!” Svetlana had an innocent, girlish aura of happiness. When she smiled it was easy to forget that just a few days ago Urvashi had hacked apart one of her fellow bloodslaves and her former master. The girl was resilient.
He and the ladies crowded around the entrance blocked by three roid monster security guards big enough to take on The Undertaker in a cage match.
Natalya unbuttoned the top three buttons of her coat and took up Aaron’s arm opposite of Svetlana. She leaned in to whisper. “Many cannot get in this club. In Russia it’s called face control.” She kissed him on the lips and patted his cheek. “Speak English. Give the guards a taste of your vampire charm. With me, you will enter.”
Minus any clothing beneath her fur coat, Natalya let her left nipple slide into view and moved in to hug Ugly Guard number one. Her coat lifted up to flash everyone her lily white ass and the guard’s hand copped a feel on her butt cheek. He squeezed her up against him as she whispered something in his ear. Her eyes darted towards Aaron and she said something about ‘pindos’. The guard snickered as though conspiring against the stupid American who didn’t know he was being mocked by a whore and the asshole security guard she’d probably sucked off a dozen times.
Aaron looked to Svetlana’s watchful gaze and let his irritation drift away with a few breaths of frozen air. In through the nose and out through the mouth, just like Urvashi had taught him. Wouldn’t do any good for him to lose his temper and crush this asshole to a pile of broken bones and torn ligaments in front of the ladies. But it might be very satisfying.
He’d had his fill of European disdain for Americans.
After a moment of grabass, the guard who probably moonlighted as a back alley mafia thug let Aaron pass with nothing more than a clipped comment in Russian. Natalya returned to his side and tickled his ear with a whisper. “I always get in the club.”
Inside, it didn’t matter anymore. The place oozed with half-dressed models and wealthy, affluent men whose ten thousand dollar suits went a long way towards retaining a woman’s attention for the evening. Natalya did indeed know her business. This was one hell of a score for a Russian escort. Probably one of the best gigs in town.
With a few glances Aaron could pick out the handful of paid girls as they worked their marks. This kind of club was where the crafty-trendy, high class escorts found clients with real money. A little dancing, some heavy petting, a few lines of coke, then it’s off to a hotel room for the night to earn a few thousand rubles riding millionaire cock.
Natalya moved ahead, waving at Aaron and the girls to keep up. Her shimmery fur coat and jiggly white ass led the way through the throngs of dancers sweating to the technogrind. Svetlana stayed at Aaron’s side while Natalya worked her way across the floor to wrap herself around a man in a very expensive black suit. Within seconds his hands clinched her bare ass, his fingers questing to find her still wet from Aaron. She was on to the next big conquest, leaving everyone else behind.
Svetlana watched him watching Natalya and shook her head. Aaron shrugged, wrapped his arm around his bloodslave’s waist, and started moving slow and rhythmic to the music. Svetlana wanted to dance, so a dance is what she would get. Svetlana in hand and Michelle molded to his backside, Aaron watched as Oksana, hair still damp, slipped up to curl her arms around him and Svetlana, swaying her hips and rubbing her warm crotch on his thigh. Michelle’s lacquered nails found their way around Oksana’s ass, where they had been planted for most of the night.
Svetlana’s eyes spark
led and she moved in close, letting her slim curves slide along his body. She leaned over to bare her neck and pulled her hair aside. Aaron nipped her gently. He took only a small sip and gifted her with what she needed. She sighed happily in his arms.
Ah … the nightlife Moscow as it was meant to be enjoyed. No vendettas, no death. Just dancing, grinding and biting. Kinda nice for a change.
Oksana’s warmth drifted away as she moved in behind Michelle. Aaron heard her soft sighs as she gave up her wrist and received her dose of bliss in return. A moment later, Michelle squeezed Aaron’s ass and murmured up against his left ear. “The whore plays with fire. See that we do not get burned.”
At first he thought Michelle spoke of Svetlana who grinned at him with dilated eyes, her hands rested gently on his shoulders. Then he glanced back in the direction of Natalya, and saw what Michelle meant.
The tiger lady had the buttons of her coat all the way undone, open, offering her naked body to the group of men who surrounded her. These men all wore identical, expensive black suits. They had five hundred dollar haircuts, thousand dollar loafers, and the thick necks of a swarm of sharks that ate girls for breakfast with a side of cocaine. Natalya brazenly served herself up to these predators. Probably negotiating prices right now. The stupid bitch was getting finger-fucked front and back by two of them.
Shit.
Svetlana tugged on his coat. “They are mafiosi. Georgians. Very dangerous.” Her eyes conveyed worry, the kind of worry for which there is no solution, but, you still worry anyway. “She always does this. She makes a lot of money from mafiosi. She was protected by her ties to Dmitri. None of the mafiosi would dare cross him. He had a reputation among them.”
Her words implied something Aaron wasn’t quite sure of. Was he supposed to offer protection? Was he supposed to turn his back on Natalya as these men locked her in a hotel room and gang banged her?
Svetlana tugged on his jacket again. “Don’t make problems. Let her go. Hopefully she will return to us tomorrow night.” Svetlana’s eyes did not convey the hope she spoke of.
Aaron finally understood.
Natalya was on the steep downward spiral of addiction and self-destruction. Svetlana assumed it was only a matter of time before Natalya ended up dead of an overdose or some other foul business in the dark crevices of Moscow. She had given up on Natalya. Can’t help those who refused to help themselves.
Aaron knew women like Natalya came with serious baggage, but he’d foolishly thought he could fix her, or at least tame her. All he’d done was unleash her. With a vampire master at her back, ready to fulfill her darkest needs, she abandoned all caution and risked life on the razor’s edge.
He knew Svetlana was right, but his instincts screamed to claim what was his, to take Natalya’s drunk, high ass home with him. Listening to the voice of reason dancing in his arms, Aaron tried to put the tiger lady out of mind. The music flowed from one thumping techno beat to another, the DJ slamming it out nonstop. Aaron stayed true to his word and gave Svetlana what she wanted, a dance.
Fast, then slow, spinning and twirling together, grinding with Oksana and Michelle, sandwiching Svetlana in the middle with her slim ass rubbing up on him, Aaron danced and danced and danced. He glimpsed Natalya several time as she moved from black suit to black suit, letting them have their way with her, drinking the endless shots of the vodka they dumped down her throat at every turn.
He considered the unpleasant thought that Natalya might be a lost cause.
Around five a.m., Aaron and the girls rested in a booth on the second floor restaurant. The bloodslaves had been sipping drinks all night, and it showed. They were drunk and tired, complaining that their feet hurt. Michelle suggested they rent a hotel room for the day – too late to make it back to the mansion before sunrise. Though she giggled and rested her hand easily on Aaron’s thigh, he couldn’t miss the concerned looks Svetlana gave him as she realized they might be sleeping together in a hotel room, maybe even in the same bed.
The girl was happy and friendly, but Dmitri had done something horrible to make her fear intimacy with vampires, or men. The word rape came to mind. He took Svetlana’s hand and reminded her once again. “I will never force you. Trust me.”
She kissed him on the cheek and imparted a sense of the trust he had earned, in spite of her fears.
At the entrance to the restaurant, a staggering, half-naked Natalya slurred a Russian insult at a black-suited man holding her by the wrist. She jerked her arm out of his grip and her eyes scanned the room until she found Aaron. A grin of relief hit her face, and she made straight for Aaron. Somehow she managed not to knock over any of the tables she bumped into along the way. Her fur coat hanging off one shoulder, naked oily body on display for the whole room of staring diners, she fell into Aaron’s lap giggling.
She rattled off something in slurred Russian and buried her face in his groin. Her naked ass and legs hung out of the booth into the walkway. The girl had spent way too much time nude in public. Black Suit chuckled as he casually followed Natalya’s path to Aaron’s booth. He leaned down and slapped Natalya’s butt, his fingers gave a proprietary squeeze, as if he would drag her out of the room by her white ass cheeks.
Aaron growled low, trying his best to suppress the growing rage inside him. Natalya murmured something into his lap and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, a drunken whore praying to her savior for forgiveness.
“You stupid, stupid bitch.” Aaron rested a hand on her back and brought eyes filled with barely-contained fury to bear on the Black Suit. “She has had too much to drink and too much fun tonight. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse her.”
The man looked around him with a slight, smug grin and then leaned closer to speak low. “You are American, yes? I think you do not understand the way of things in Russia.” His hand slipped up between Natalya’s legs and probed her inner thighs. He brought his glistening wet fingers out to sniff them. “I paid for this pussy. She is mine tonight.” He looked to the girls sitting at the booth with Aaron. “You have your women. This one goes with me.”
He snagged Natalya by the hair and started pulling her backwards into the aisle. She squeaked in pain as her head jerked off Aaron’s lap at a sharp angle and her back arched, her breasts jutted out into the air on display. Small murmurs of pain came from her lips and her glazed drunken eyes looked to Aaron in alarm.
He spent a half-second considering the idea of letting this man do his worst to her. She had made her bed, and now she had to lie in it, with all the men she had played. But the pain on her face was his right – his pain to give. Natalya had pledged herself to him, to hurt and to hold, to bleed, to pull her hair, to sodomize and swallow his come, to bite and grudgefuck whenever and wherever he wanted to. She was his bloodslave sex addict, and only he had the right to abuse her the way she needed to be abused.
His hand wrapped around Black Suit’s wrist. Inhuman strength squeezed until the man’s wrist popped in Aaron’s grip and his face scrunched in agony. His hand released Natalya’s hair and she flopped back into Aaron’s lap face first with a grunt.
“Leave her, or I will break you into pieces.” Aaron squeezed harder and felt bone, flesh and tendon grind in his hand. He dug his fully elongated claws into the man’s wrist. Blood seeped through the designer jacket Aaron had pierced in his sharp grip.
The man couldn’t speak beyond a choice curse in Russian. Aaron dug through his thoughts to feel the intensity of his pain, to find the submission he sought. The man nodded his head without a word, his mind full of surrender. Aaron mercifully let go. Black Suit immediately backed out of reach, favoring his hurt wrist. Shock, pain and confusion flitted across his face and mind. Without a word the man turned and exited the restaurant back into the downstairs nightclub.
Svetlana’s hand rested on Aaron’s jacket sleeve and her huge blue eyes shone with fear. She opened her mouth, but Michelle spoke over the top of her. “We need to go. Now. That man had many friends.”
&nbs
p; Svetlana nodded her head in emphatic agreement. “Yes, now!”
Michelle whipped out a fistful of hundred note rubles from her purse and tossed them on the table. In seconds she had pulled Oksana from the booth and Aaron hauled up a slobbering drunk Natalya who could barely hold her weight on her bare feet, let alone walk. She had lost her shoes somewhere on the dancefloor. He wrapped her coat around her in a poor attempt to cover her nudity, and scooped her into his arms, cradled like a baby.
Michelle led the way out with Oksana in hand and Svetlana followed close behind. Svetlana spoke urgently into her cell phone to alert the chauffer. In a moment they were outside, on the street. Svetlana looked up and down the sidewalk. Her eyes darted to the gorilla guards at the door, and then to Aaron in trepidation. “The limo will be here in a moment.” Her eyes returned to the entrance to the club. The woman was deathly afraid of Mafiosi.
“Look at me, Svetlana. We will be fine.”
The limo pulled up alongside the curb and the chauffer stepped out to walk around to their side to open the door. As he reached for the rear door latch, a bullet slammed through his forehead and a splat of blood flew out the back of his skull. The chauffer flopped backwards onto the pavement, instantly dead.
Three men in black suits with silenced pistols in hand walked side by side down the sidewalk. These were not the same men in the club, but they certainly worked for them. Had probably been waiting outside all night. Mafiosi enforcers, paid to stand by until called upon for the dirty work. They nodded to the security thugs at the door to the nightclub who dutifully retreated inside the club, closing the doors behind them.
The black suits had carefully aimed guns trained on Aaron, Michelle, and Svetlana. The one nearest spoke in a guttural voice with a heavy Slavic accent. “You took something that is not yours to take.” His gun flicked towards Natalya unconscious in Aaron’s arms.
The Nightlife Moscow (Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Suspense) (The Nightlife Series Book 5) Page 18
