by Peyton Banks
“Strip,” he demanded, motioning for her to move to his desk. She quickly stood and discarded her panties and bra, and stood in front of his desk. He slowly kicked off his shoes and his pants from around his ankles. He removed his shirt as he walked over to his desk, reaching in to pull a condom from the top drawer. He walked around to her as she waited for his next instructions. “Turn around.”
She did as he requested, placing her hands onto his desk before spreading her legs. He opened the foil packet and sheathed his thick cock. His stamina was something to brag about. Any woman who fucked him would need to be able to hold on for the ride.
He walked behind her and stared at her plump ass. He reached down in between her legs, finding her cunt to be drenched in her own juices. His fingers swirled around through her slickness and she moaned. Thrusting his fingers inside of her wet channel, he then slid them to her anus. Pushing her head down onto the desk brought her ass up higher for him. Tonight, this ass would be his. He was paying for this encounter and would have what he wanted, and right now, her plump ass needed his cock. She wiggled her ass, knowing he was preparing to take her there.
Kole spread her ass cheeks wide and lined the head of his cock up with her anus. The pink rim of her asshole glistened from her juices. His cock jumped at the sight of her sweet ass. The head of his cock slowly disappeared as he pushed into her tight channel, feeding her his length. Though the fit was tight, her ass greedily took him in. He reached around her and grabbed her plump mounds in his hands as he thrust deep.
She screamed as he seated himself deep in her ass. His breath caught in his throat as he paused, allowing her to get used to the size of his cock. He pinched her nipples, eliciting a deep moan from her. He pulled back and thrust again. Her body began to relax as it stretched around his girth.
“Shit,” he growled as he thrust again, unable to control himself.
There was nothing like fucking a whore in the ass. He pulled her leg up to rest onto the desk so he could open her wider, allowing him to reach her at a different angle so he could push farther into her forbidden entrance. The sounds of his balls slapping against her ass filled the air as he took possession of her. He grabbed her hair as he continued to ride her hard.
“Oh God, yes!” she moaned as his fingers tightened on her blonde locks.
“No talking,” he grunted, increasing his rhythm. His heart rate sped up as his cock punished her. Leaning down over her back, his fingers found her slick nub. He knew it would be wet with her moisture and sensitive to the touch. He began to strum it as he pumped into her ass.
Her muffled moans were the responses to her punishment. He was a generous lover. He may not know her name, but he would ensure that she got off at least once tonight. Squeezing her clit hard, she screamed as her orgasm hit. Her body drew tight, causing her ass to clench down around his dick. The pressure forced his seed to shoot out of his cock, filling the protective sheath.
Her body fell limp on his desk as he slowly pulled out of her. His cock hung low, satisfied for now. His breaths were coming quick and hard as he stood there. He glanced down at his watch and let loose a curse. He had to go.
“Clean yourself up and see your way out. The security guard who let you in will have your payment,” he said as he walked over and picked his clothes up from the floor.
“Thank you, sir,” she murmured, raising her head from the desk. He headed toward his private bathroom for a quick shower and knew that when he came out, she would be gone.
Chapter 3
Cherry Eclipse was an exclusive rooftop nightclub where the VIP section was located on the balcony. Mila loved the private section that housed a beautiful pool, a lounge area, and plenty of room for mingling and dancing. Her brother had exquisite taste, and ensured that his club was one of the most sought-after venues for people to party. He made sure that it was stocked with the finest spirits from the motherland, and she could always count on the club stocking the best vodka in all of New York.
The midnight sky was dark, with the faint twinkling of stars in the sky. Security was tight tonight due to the crowd. The VIP section would have only the most important people tonight, people with money, who loved to spend as much of it as possible. She glanced around and noted some familiar faces. Davor and Oleg were conversing with a gentleman off to the side.
Laughter filled the air as s few women in barely there bikini’s lounged around in the pool. Mila knocked back the rest of her drink, enjoying the slight burn of the cool liquid as she moved her body to the beat of the music.
The DJ for the night was spinning all the right tunes. Mila felt like dancing. She sat her empty glass on the table, allowing a passing waitress to grab it. She glanced in Mila’s direction, and Mila signaled for her to keep the drinks coming. She was relaxed and feeling good.
Her eyes caught movement by the entrance and watched the guards move to the side to allow her brother and his men entrance onto the balcony. His mere presence commanded the private section. Pride spread through her chest at the sight of her powerful brother. Patrons didn’t have to be told to move as the revered gangster, who like their father, was one of the most dangerous men in all of New York.
Pasha and Mila both took after their father in the looks department. Both played important roles in the family business, and Mila didn’t desire to rise any further in the organization. Her brother and father could handle all the politics of running the business, while she ran the foot soldiers. Getting her hands dirty was something that she loved.
“Mila,” Pasha greeted her with open arms.
“Big brother.” She smiled.
He engulfed her in a massive hug. Even at midnight, her brother was dressed in an expensively tailored business suit.
He motioned for her to sit back down. By the time he settled into his chair, the waitress had returned with Mila’s drink and one for Pasha. If the waitress wanted to keep her job, she would have his drink ready.
Mila knew her brother well. She sipped on her drink as she watched his eyes take in all the patrons in the VIP section. She knew what was coming.
“To a beautiful night,” he said, bringing his glass toward her.
“A beautiful night,” she murmured as their glass clinked. She settled back, enjoying the music that floated through the air. It had been a while since her and her brother could relax and enjoy good music.
“Jora,” her brother called to his guard, tipping his glass to passing patrons.
Mila knew it.
Pasha didn’t come out to relax and have a good time.
Without a word, the guards began clearing out the private balcony. The DJ and bartender would of course be allowed to stay.
There would be a fight on the private balcony if Mila couldn’t relax. The guards weren’t stupid. The DJ and bartender were both loyal to the Tokhan Bratva and were paid handsomely too.
Not one single person complained as they were escorted from the area. No one would dare mutter a word against the mobster while he or Mila was present. The people exited the balcony quietly, and in a single file line.
Mila had killed men for far less, and speaking ill against her family was one thing Mila didn’t stand for.
“I thought that just for once, we would have a night to relax, brother. Business can wait until tomorrow,” she stated, finishing off her drink.
Damn, how did she drink it that fast?
The waitress probably didn’t fill it up all the way. Mila scowled as she set yet another empty glass down.
“Business never stops,” Pasha replied as he sipped his bourbon.
“One night, Pasha—”
“Enough,” he snapped, cutting her off. His sharp gaze landed on her, causing her to shut her mouth. She knew when to stop and not push her brother, especially when he was exerting his power.
Something was up.
Her eyes went to the glass doors, and she watched as his men, Boris Rokossovsky and Yulian Nazarov, both captains in the organization, approach them. The
y both reported directly to her brother. He had brought them into the family, and she knew that he trusted them. Their men followed them as they made their way to their table.
This was definitely business.
Mila instantly began to sober up. She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, waiting for her brother to speak. For him to call in his right and left-hand men for a meeting and including her, meant that something big was coming. It was rare that they all were in the same room together, much less a public place like the Cherry Eclipse. But since it was owned by Pasha, it would be safe.
Greetings were exchanged as the captains joined them at the table. The waitress immediately arrived and brought drinks for the newcomers.
Her curiosity was now peaked.
The guards were each spread around the balcony. Davor and Oleg both nodded to Mila, confirming they were secured and free to speak. The private balcony was more secured than the White House.
Why would they need this much security for a meeting among members of their organization?
“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice,” Pasha began, looking around the table.
“Not a problem, boss,” Boris said.
“Anytime.” Yulian nodded.
“I wanted us to meet to discuss something of an urgent nature. I’m sure you are all aware, there will be a charity ball at the Chateau Hotel. Every organization will be represented at this party, and my father is set to attend. We will need the tightest security.”
Her brother turned to her and she nodded.
She was ecstatic to know that their father would be coming to America, but she knew that this was going to be a high alert event.
Every mob boss would be in attendance, and she needed to ensure that every soldier would be up to speed and doing their jobs. The grand pakhan of the Tokhan Bratva was coming. All members of the organization in America would need to be ready for the arrival of her father.
“Will Vlad be there?” she asked, shifting in her seat.
“Yes, he will.” Pasha nodded his head.
Mila’s lip curled up at the thought. Vladen Jaksch was the pakhan of the Slokavich Bratva. Vlad was a well-known drug trafficker in Russian with ties all over the world. The Slokavich’s had a long history of clashing with the Tokhan Bratva, dating all the way back to the conception time of both brotherhoods. Both organizations were born in Moscow, Russia.
“When is Papa set to arrive?” she asked, trying to taper down her excitement. She wasn’t ashamed to admit she was a daddy’s girl, but she wouldn’t gush like a school girl over the fact that her father was coming in front of her brother’s men. It had been months since she had seen her father. With him back home in Russia and her in America, they never got to see each other.
“Tomorrow night. It’s your time to shine, little sister. Do what you do best,” he said, his eyes locked on her.
She nodded, immediately drumming up plans for when her father arrived. It would be her job to ensure that their father remained safe while in America. An event like this would draw out any and all of their enemies to try to attack the pakhan of the Tokhan Bratva. Her men were the best, and anyone would be stupid to try something.
Murmurs of agreement filled the air as each man raised their glasses and saluted her. Pride filled her chest from the support of not just her brother, but from the other captains of the brotherhood.
Women in the mafia with power was uncommon, but the Tokhan Bratva had always accepted her. Not that they had much choice. Who would go against her father, brother, and cousin? But Mila knew that her record spoke for itself. She was a member of the brotherhood, and lived, breathed, and had bled for the bratva.
“There’s one more thing that we need to discuss,” Pasha announced. “The Belotov’s.”
Mila’s eyebrow rose. She knew the Belotov gang was a thorn in her brother’s side. It was a local mob that was run by Kole Bozovic. Mila had never met the mob boss in person, but she had heard of him. Just the thought of him caused her heart to skip. His pictures, she was sure, didn’t do him justice.
On paper, Kole ran a very successful shipping business, but they all knew that racketeering was his specialty, and he could move anything, no matter how large or small. If someone wanted something to disappear, it was taken to Kole and his organization. Kole had taken over the business about seven years ago when his father had stepped down.
Oh, Mila had read up on Kole Bozovic.
Ever since he took over his family business, the Belotov’s were moving up in the ranks of organized crime in New York, and Pasha didn’t like it one bit. New York and all the boroughs were his.
“They are gaining too much ground,” Boris snarled.
“What do you want us to do about them?” Yulian asked.
“We are going to get them to swear allegiance to me,” Pasha stated quietly. Mila’s eyebrow raised high at his statement. “With his shipping and receiving business, and his alliances, it would tighten up our hold on the whole Eastern seaboard.”
“And you think Kole will do that?” Mila asked. She agreed with her brother. The Belotov’s were getting out of hand and treading in on their territory, but it would be a good business move to join forces. Kole would just have to swear allegiance to their family.
That should be easy enough, and if not, it wouldn’t be pretty. Kole hasn’t begun to feel the full wrath of the Tokhan Bratva. Her brother was not a man one should make an enemy of.
He let the Belotov’s exist only because he ultimately had a plan for them. Mila knew her brother. He could be calculating and cruel, and Kole’s smaller organization wouldn’t survive should Pasha decide to take them out. Her brother’s wrath was like a hurricane. Nothing would survive.
“Kole won’t do that,” Yulian warned. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch with too much pride.”
Mila thought of all the pictures and mentions of the mafia boss. He would be the type of man she needed. Someone just as deadly, could take her shit, and could put her in her place when she needed it. Not that she needed a man to put her in her place, but just once she would like a man to make a decision or two, take control and protect her. Make her feel like a woman. She was starving for the attention of a real man.
“Well, we’ll squeeze him until he has no choice but to pledge to me,” Pasha growled.
“Excuse me, sir,” Jora interrupted as he walked over to their table. “Kole Bozovic has entered the club.”
Chapter 4
Kole walked through the doors of the exclusive club, owned by his rival, Pavel ‘Pasha’ Petrovna. His men followed behind him, on high alert through the throng of partygoers. Laughter and music filled the air.
The crowd parted for him. People’s eyes widened as they moved out his way, recognizing the danger in him as he walked toward the private part of the club where he was told Pasha would be. This was a first for the other boss to extend an invitation to him for a meeting.
The Tokhan may be one of the most powerful organized crime organizations in New York, but it was time for them to move to the side.
Kole Bozovic was coming for that top spot.
A few of his men disappeared into the crowd so they could spread out around the club to secure it. Kole didn’t trust Pasha at all. He and his men were packing. He could feel the weight of his weapon underneath his jacket in the holster. There was no way he would have entered the lion’s den without some form of protection.
A large meathead in a suit approached them. Kole stopped in his tracks as the man stood in front of him. He could feel his trusted bodyguard, Denis, on his left.
Denis was about the same size of the meathead. Denis had been with him for years, and Kole knew his bodyguard’s loyalty knew no boundaries.
“Mr. Bozovic. Mr. Petrovna is waiting for you. Please, allow me to escort you to him,” he said.
“Thank you.” Kole nodded, adjusting his suit jacket as he followed the meathead.
This meeting better be worth it. It pissed him off that he c
ouldn’t have continued with the little piece of ass that he’d had in his office. But this was business, and business would always come before pussy.
Meathead led them to a private balcony off the side of the club. Another guard opened the door for them as they stepped through it.
Kole’s eyes instantly took in the balcony and found it to empty, aside from the guards and a few men placed around the open area. The Tokhan boss sure had excellent taste when it came to his club. His eyes stopped on the lone female in the private section.
Mila Petrovna.
One of the most dangerous females in all of New York. The sister of the boss had a reputation that left many men keeping their guard up around her. She could hang with the best of men—better yet, most men had a hard time keeping up with her. It was known that her position was right below her brother, and it was she who was in charge of her brother’s foot soldiers. She was known as the Kollektor.
He could appreciate a woman with power. Someone who could wield a weapon and kick ass while still remaining a woman. His eyes took her in as he made his way to the table.
She dripped pure fucking sex.
Her leather encased legs were crossed, displaying her fuck-me heels. Her dark hair was left flowing down around her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes met his and his cock hardened.
He cursed underneath his breath. This was his rival’s sister.
Off. Fucking. Limits.
Yes, maybe he should have had a second round with the whore in the office before coming here. Kole had seen pictures of Mila, and they didn’t hold a candle to Mila in the flesh.
He arrived at the table as the men stood to their feet.
“Welcome to my establishment,” Pasha Petrovna said in greeting, in his thick Russian accent. He extended his hand.
