He phones someone called Viktor and tells him to pick him up at the backdoor. Then we go out through the back of his nightclub, my body stiff with tension. Sometimes his hand arrives on the small of my back to guide me in the right direction. He puts out a big hand and pushes open the double doors of the kitchen. Every man in that kitchen gapes at the sight of Noah and me. I guess he doesn’t make a habit of going out through the back with his women. Outside it is chilly and I shiver.
‘Cold?’ he asks, looking down at me
‘A little.’
A car is waiting, and the driver, presumably Viktor, is standing beside the open back door. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of me before he blanks them of all expression. I wonder if he has recognized me, but it is extremely unlikely. My father keeps me well out of his world. I thank him and get in while Noah walks around to the other side and slides in beside me.
‘Turn the heating up,’ he tells the driver.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper.
He turns to look at me, his strong cheekbones catching the light from the streetlamps and the look in his eyes makes me lick my lips.
Four
Noah Abramovich
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvvX5QM4z3Y
Wicked Game
My eyes drop to her plump lower lip, to the way it glistens enticingly in the darkness. It fucks me up some. I tell myself, stay cool, but excitement is like an electric current in my blood, zipping through my veins. Fuck, I have never known such blind urgency.
I want to grab her and take her there and then. And damn if it won’t feel good.
I clench my jaw and turn away. There’s a jeering voice in my head. Stay firm, Noah. It’s just one fucking night. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I stare out of the window as the familiar streets rush by. I have done this journey thousands of times, but there is something surreal about this night.
Its name is Tasha Evanoff. Her perfume. Her presence, the creamy whiteness of her soft skin, the innocence in her wide eyes. I am a monster. I can bring her nothing but pain and ruin. Even touching the Princess would be defiling her, and yet, I cannot stop myself.
She is my one weakness. The beloved daughter of the Mafia king is about to become my worst fucking nightmare. I cannot resist her call. I’ve played this out in my fantasies too many times. Just one night. It’s just lust. When the sun comes up it will be over. I won’t chase her. I won’t ruin her life. Just one night.
As the car eats up the miles, every cell in my body heats up, becomes super alert. Like a wolf I can hear her heartbeat, feel the heat coming from her body.
The car comes to a smooth stop. Here we are Noah, you and your fantasy woman. I get out and Viktor rushes to open the door for her. She gets out and looks at me. I thank Viktor and he drives off.
Cold wind drags at her clothes and hair. She hugs herself.
‘My place,’ I say softly.
‘It’s nice,’ she replies without sarcasm. It’s just a six-bedroom Regency town house with high ceilings and tall windows. But modest. Certainly nothing compared to the gold and marble palace she lives in. Russians with money are like Arabs. Flashy. They invest in ostentation.
‘Sure you want to do this?’
She reaches out a hand and, with her thumb and forefinger, picks something from my right cheek. Staring at me she holds it in front of my lips. It is an old Russian superstition: if an eyelash falls out you will receive a gift. My chest feels tight. My mother used to do this to me, take the eyelash, and let me blow it away while making a wish.
I blow. Strands of her blonde hair lift away from her neck.
She blinks. ‘Did you make a wish?’
I nod. How surprised she would be if she knew what I wished for. How surprised I am at my fucking wish. None of the wishes I made when my mother held the eyelash ever came true. There is absolutely no way this one is going to either.
We walk up the steps and I put the key in my door. I close the door and watch her look at her surroundings.
‘Want a drink?’ I offer.
‘If you’ll have one too?’
I walk to the first reception room and switch on the light.
She laughs, a breathless sound. ‘Wow, it’s beautiful.’
I look at the decor as if for the first time. Through her eyes. I never notice it anymore. I follow her eyes as she takes in the pale ice cream colors on the walls, the charcoal grey floor, and the dark silk curtains. There are red velvet cushions on the white fainting couch. She moves deeper into the room to stand on the soft-lilac shag carpet.
‘I never would have imagined you lived in a house like this.’
I shrug casually. This is my house, but it is not a home. I don’t really live here. In fact, I hardly come. Often I crash in the apartment above my restaurant. ‘I didn’t actually decorate it. I hired someone.’
‘Of course, I knew that, but you approved her design.’
‘When I buy a dog I tend not to bark myself.’
She laughs again, but this time it is for real. A lovely sound. It’s the way I thought she might sound. Rich, sexy, and exhilarating. ‘I just expected more black leather and chrome somehow.’ She stops and shrugs. ‘I mean being bratva and all.’
‘I’m not in the brotherhood anymore,’ I say quietly.
She cocks an eyebrow. ‘Oh, since when?’
‘Years,’ I say simply.
‘So you just walked away from it?’ she asks curiously.
‘You never walk away from it. It walks beside you.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Your sins, every one of them, they never leave you, no matter how far you run, or how long you live.’
She stares at me.
‘But you didn’t come here to talk about my sins.’
She doesn’t say anything so I move to the drinks cabinet and pour us each a large measure of cognac. She takes hers from my hand and raises it.
‘To tonight,’ she says.
‘Tonight,’ I reply and we both drink.
To my surprise she knocks it back as fast as me. She is so beautiful she makes my cock weep. I want to tear the clothes off her, but she will need to go home in them before the sun rises again. The thought doesn’t sit well. I already dread having to let her go tomorrow. Once I possess her …
She reaches out a hand and unbuttons my shirt, exposing my chest. Her pale finger, the nail painted pearly pink, traces the tattoo of a roaring tiger on my chest.
‘Oskal (bared teeth) You were a thief,’ she breathes.
I don’t say anything. My tattoos tell their own tale of bloodshed, violence, and the unspoken moral code of my past. My time of treading a fine line between life and death. The punishment for getting a tattoo you have not earned is severe so they work as my CV, and being the daughter of a mafia king she can read each letter and design like a language.
She undoes the rest of the buttons on my shirt, pulls the shirttails out, and slips it off me. I watch her eyes hungrily take in the width of me, before her eyes alight on the tattoo of an epaulette inked onto my right shoulder.
‘High ranking,’ she whispers.
She rises to her tiptoes and kisses me right on the skull in the middle of the epaulette. It is a gesture of approval. She knows it signifies that I am not, or will ever be a slave to anyone.
I stand as still as a statue when she touches the rose. So many memories come crowding back. No other woman has touched it quite the same way. It is Delilah holding Samson’s hair.
‘You spent your eighteenth birthday in prison,’ she notes. Her voice grave.
Then her finger delicately trails the blade of a dagger. ‘You have taken life.’ She touches the drops of blood as she counts aloud the lives I have taken. ‘One, two, three, four …’ There are more drops, but she doesn’t go on. She looks up at me, our gazes touch, and she exhales a long breath. It sounds like regret or pain.
She walks around the back and looks at the massive tattoo of the Madonna and Child surround
ed by saints and angels. In the background a cathedral. It is a thieves’ talisman. I know I am a sinner but protect me, guide me, bring me luck.
‘So … you were a thief from an early age,’ she deciphers. I feel her breath warm on my back.
‘Fifteen,’ I say quietly.
‘Mmmm.’ She lays her palm on my back and I close my eyes at the incredible softness of her skin.
She reads aloud the Russian words. Oh Lord, forgive me for the tears of my mother.
I twist around and grab her wrist. ‘That’s enough.’
Something flashes in her eyes, but it’s not fear.
‘So now you know all about me,’ I say. ‘What is there to know about Tasha Evanoff?’
‘There is only one thing you need to know about me. Tonight I am yours.’
‘Let me see what is mine tonight, then,’ I say.
Pink rushes up her neck and cheeks. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and holds her empty glass out to me. I take it from her and she steps out of her shoes. How cute. No other woman I know would dream of taking her shoes off first. Every one of them is sophisticated enough to know a naked woman wearing nothing but her high heels is the ultimate sexual turn on.
She takes her cardigan off and folds it before laying it neatly over the edge of the couch closest to her. As her hands move to the back of her dress, I see them shake and realize she is nervous as hell. She unzips her dress and lowers it slowly. Underneath is only the lacy white bra. She doesn’t try to fold the dress as it pools around her ankles. Swallowing hard, she removes her last item of clothing and lets it drop to the carpet.
And I behold a body of classical proportions.
My fingers tighten around the glasses in my hands. A word I don’t think I have ever used comes into my head. Willowy. Her breasts are small and round, the nipples pink and erect, and her waist gently flares out into delicious curves that part into slender thighs. And between them pink folds protrude.
Other than the hair on her head she is completely hairless. Her flawless pale skin shimmers gently in the soft light. There is not a single mark on her body. As if she never fell over as a child and grazed her knees or hurt her elbows. Lost in awe I drag my eyes back to her face.
Anticipation and excitement have made her eyes glitter a brilliant blue. Here she is, on the wrong side of respectability, with the baddest of the bad boys. A dangerous, cold-blooded killer. It is in her eyes: the good girl is expecting a dirty, thrilling, wild, forbidden night of lust and passion.
A night like no other.
And she will get it.
Looking into her shining eyes, I remember the birthday present Vasily and the rest of my staff gave me. It was meant to be a joke. Like a blow up doll only better. Much better. Even I had been surprised by how incredibly real it looked when they presented it amongst blankets, but I never thought I’d have use for it.
Until tonight …
I scoop her up, she weighs so little. I carry her upstairs and lay her on the bed. She looks up at me with huge eyes. She appears so innocent and beautiful I almost cannot bear to look at her. The simple truth is I cannot bear to return her tomorrow.
I feel anger grow from deep inside me that she cannot be mine. Not just for tonight, but forever.
I’ve always wanted her, and now I’m being offered one little taste before she is yanked away and given to a bully who does not deserve her.
I already know what he will do. He will break her with neglect.
She, who is mine.
Five
Tasha Evanoff
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FK6wgua-kjc
Everything Is Not Quite Enough
Lying naked on the bed, I watch him walk shirtless, the muscles of his inked back gleaming, to the attached dressing room. I see his reflection in a mirror open a cupboard and from the top shelf take down a large package. He brings it to the bed and puts it next to me.
‘Open it,’ he invites softly.
I sit up, curious, and open the plastic packaging. I stare at it, surprised and slightly confused.
‘It’s an authentic, life-size vagina and ass,’ he explains the obvious from above.
‘It’s a masturbator for men,’ I say slowly. Worrying at my lower lip I look up at him. ‘What are you going to do with it?’
He smiles slowly. ‘Not me. You.’
I stare at him. ‘Me? What am I supposed to do with that?’
‘I want to see you suck that pussy.’
‘You want me to suck a plastic pussy?’ I repeat in disbelief. This was way too kinky for me
‘It’s not plastic. It’s a CyberSkin deluxe version. Touch it.’
I look down at it then back up at him. ‘I’m sorry but I’m not into women. Not even a bit.’
‘Touch it,’ he urges.
‘I—’
‘I want you to.’
‘Fine.’ I touch one of the butt cheeks and it feels surprisingly real and soft. I retract my hand. ‘Yeah, good, really lifelike, but what’s the point? It’s not doing anything for me, and quite frankly I’d rather taste you.’
‘It’s the visual for me, but the elemental taboo for you.’
I look at the thing. It basically looks like a woman’s hips and thighs when she is lying face down and sticking her ass out so that her vagina projects out with all her frilly bits distended.
‘Let me show you how easy it is,’ he says, taking hold of me in a flash, opening my legs with his powerful hands, and staring down at my exposed sex. Like a man in a trance, he kneels between my legs. His head moves downward and his lips connect with the throbbing at my core. I jump as if I have been electrocuted.
He lifts his head. ‘Relax,’ he orders.
I stare at the ceiling, furious with myself for reacting like a frightened rabbit, or some little Victorian virgin prude. I’m going to make this night work. One way or another. I’ve dreamed of it too long not to. He buries his head between my thighs.
‘Oh, God,’ I groan, my body arching involuntarily, when his tongue finds the wet opening and plunges inside. The pleasure is delicious.
His hands roam my body as his tongue swirls inside me, licking, rolling, slurping, tasting my depths, eating me as if he is a starving wolf. My legs lock round his head and my pussy tightens around his eager tongue. Just when I think he has found the right spot he goes deeper, or shifts the angle, and finds a whole new right spot.
‘Yes, there,’ I cry, my whole body bucking as I grind my sex against his mouth and chase my orgasm. When I am almost screaming with pleasure, he removes his tongue from inside me and clamps his lips around the small hard bud of my clit and suckles it.
‘I’m so close,’ I moan.
His reply is to suck harder.
‘Oh, Noah,’ I scream and, grabbing his head, come. Hard! The world becomes white with the intensity of my climax. It is beyond anything I have experienced before. The orgasm rips through me and leaves me a quivering mess and I become aware that his tongue is still lodged inside me.
‘That was amazing.’ My voice is hoarse.
He lifts his head, his mouth and chin glistering.
‘You’re amazing,’ he says and dips his fingers into me. I gasp and tighten my muscles around the digits. With wide eyes I watch him gather the juices from my pussy and smear it on to the vagina of the toy. He even inserts his fingers into the toy to coat the insides.
I meet his dark, inscrutable eyes, and suddenly I want to be the girl who is so wild and willing she is extraordinary. I know he will haunt me forever. Let it not only be him that leaves an indelible mark on me. I’ll give him a show he will never forget.
I get on my knees and sink down on the toy’s frilly pink lips. I lick it and, for the first time, taste my own juices. On my knees and sucking a toy pussy smeared with my own juices, I hear him draw in a sharp breath. In my peripheral view I see him take his trousers off. I want to see his cock, but he moves to the back of me. I slurp at the lips greedily, and exactly as he had done to m
e, I dip my tongue into the soft opening.
Behind me I hear the sound of a condom wrapper being hurriedly torn open and my whole body becomes electrified. Every atom alert and waiting for his touch. First those large, rough hands wrap around my hips, then, his cock head starts to penetrate me. I am dripping wet, but it is enormous and I cry out with pain as it spreads me open and forces itself into me. I feel him stretch me wider and wider as the hard pillar goes deeper inside me. As I start to adjust to the thick cock inside me, the sensation of fullness is wonderful.
This is what my sex was made for.
‘Spread your legs wider,’ he instructs, his voice thick with lust.
I obey.
‘Wider still and push your ass up,’ he commands.
With my pussy speared with his cock, I can’t help the feeling of being helpless and vulnerable. My entire body prepares itself to get the fucking of its life. I whimper as the nub between my legs begins to throb like a heart. I know then that I want him to start moving so bad it feels as if I will break into a thousand pieces if he does not.
He begins by rolling his hips, slowly, deliberately, before picking up speed, bumping into me as far as he can go and feeling so big inside me. The thrusts becoming more savage, building and building to an almost unbearable speed. Mercilessly he fucks me as fast as he can while my hips rise up to meet his thrusts. Until every nerve ending in my body is screaming for release.
‘Play with yourself,’ he growls.
I use my fingers and frantically frig at my clit and almost instantly I feel a monster orgasm coming my way.
‘Stick your tongue into that pussy while my big cock fucks you,’ he orders, and suddenly I’m riding an enormous wave. He must have been holding back and waiting for me because he roars and explodes together with me.
My climax begins at my core. It blasts through my body like a firebomb and ends at my fingertips and toes. The power of it turns my cry soundless and makes me physically shake. I didn’t know where I ended and he began anymore. We were one, one never-ending earth-shattering climax.
You Don't Know Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Page 2
