Fight or Flight (Fire & Vice Book 2)

by Nikita Slater

  Suddenly nervous, Anya tilted her face up and whispered, “You aren’t going to… you know? Put that thing in my…”

  He grinned at her. “Eventually I plan on taking you there, but not today. You aren’t ready for that yet. I am going to take that delicious pussy again, Anya. And I’m going to put my thumb back in your ass, because I love the sounds you make when I do that.”

  “Oh…” she trailed off, her face flushed bright red. But she didn’t protest. He definitely pushed her boundaries, but she loved everything he’d done to her so far.

  She cried out when she felt the incredible pressure of his cock seeking entrance into her tight pussy. Her body stretched around him, taking him a little easier than before. She began to relax when the pain she had anticipated was more like a delicious pinch as he slid easily into her body. This time he fucked her with long, leisurely strokes. The slap of his wet body against hers rang in her ears, turning her on even more. She wished she could see what they looked like, as he took her from behind like that, but the steam from the shower obscured the mirror across the room.

  She tensed a little when she felt cold squirt of shampoo hit her ass. Ash ran his fingers through the gel and then glided them up and down her ass crack. She moaned, knowing what he would do, anticipating the invasion, but fearing it too. He kneaded her ass cheek with his other hand, pushing and pulling the flesh, exposing her anus to his excited gaze.

  Anya was so wet she could barely contain the explosive orgasm that was building up inside her. She reached between their bodies and began running her fingers over her clit. She reached even further and touched his testicles, where they slapped against her thighs with each thrust.

  “Yeah baby,” he groaned above her. “Touch yourself for me, make yourself come.”

  Then, as promised, he slid his thumb into her anal passage and began massaging her from the inside while he fucked her. Anya did as he demanded, touching herself, rubbing her clit with harder and harder strokes. She moaned and cried out at the sensations that spiralled through her body. She reached out and grabbed the edge of the bench and shoved herself back on his cock as hard as she could. His thumb twisted in her ass. She screamed, high and long as she came, white stars exploding in her vision.

  “Fuck, babe,” she heard him snarl. He took his thumb out of her body and, clutching her hips in both hands, began to pump his cock into her body with fast, hard strokes.

  She lay limp beneath him, taking the pounding and enjoying the lingering orgasmic bites of pure bliss with each stroke of his body in hers. She cushioned her head in her arms and sighed. Finally, after another few minutes and another quieter orgasm on her part, he finished. His body tensed over hers and he gripped her hips so tightly she knew she would have bruises. He shuddered and emptied his semen into the condom wedged deep within her body.

  He collapsed forward, his chest resting against her back, hand against the shower wall to keep himself from crushing her. After a few moments, when he regained his breath, he leaned back, pulling out of her. She lay passively, too tired to move, as he stepped out of the shower to dispose of the condom. She moaned in protest when he picked her up off the bench and insisted she stand on her own two feet while he cleaned her again. This time he also took the time to wash her hair and wipe the makeup off her face.

  He even knelt at her feet, the way she had done with him. He lifted her small feet into his hands and carefully scrubbed each toe, watching her face as he touched each one.

  “You’re exhausted,” he announced when he had lifted her from the shower, set her on the bath mat and proceeded to dry her.

  “You know, I am a grown up woman, Ash,” she said grumpily with a yawn. “I’m perfectly capable of doing things for myself.”

  He smiled down at her after he had dried her hair a little too enthusiastically for her liking. “Maybe,” he replied, “but I like doing things for you. Maybe if you become dependant, then I won’t have to worry about you taking off on me all the time.”

  She frowned up at him, her eyes starting to drift shut. “That sounds pretty much like Stockholm Syndrome, buddy. Am I being kidnapped here?”

  He snorted. “Considering your brother knows where I live, has his enforcers sitting outside of my home, and most likely has the place bugged too, the answer to that would seem very obvious. Now hush, that kind of talk can get me killed. We’re just going to bed. No kidnapping here.”

  Anya giggled and allowed him to swing her up in his arms and carry her to his bed. She snuggled deep into the comforter. She was in the process of planning a sassy comeback when she felt him climb into the bed with her and gather her up against him. She drifted asleep to the feel of his lips gliding across her forehead.

  CHAPTER NINE

  After the best sleep of her life, Anya had woken to the wicked sensation of Ash’s lips and tongue on her pussy. She wasn’t sure how long he had been down there, but she was definitely good and wet when he finally finished wringing orgasms from her and crawled up her body. He held her arms over her head, pressed his chest to her breasts and kissed her thoroughly while sliding his thick penis into her slick vagina. She had gasped into his mouth and arched her body up against his. He made love to her slowly and thoroughly, capturing the expressions of ecstasy that crossed her features as though they belonged to him.

  They drifted back from the edge of their mutual pleasure sprawled across the bed, limbs entwined. They lingered in bed, as the morning sun rose, warming their naked bodies. They talked quietly, conversing about nothing and everything. After an hour of enjoying the simple pleasure of being together Ash insisted they get up and eat. Anya giggled when he told her he needed her healthy for his nefarious sex plans.

  He had put her clothes in the washer at some point during the night and switched them to the dryer in the morning. While they dried, he made breakfast. He insisted that Anya would have to go naked since her clothes were still in the dryer and his were much too big on her. She didn’t really see the logic, but decided to play the game his way, and wandered around his house naked. She exclaimed over the simple beauty of his home, surprised at how homey it felt for a man with so few outward emotions. She decided to call off the naked exploration after hearing him groan in pain, having burnt himself while she was bent over his bookshelf, inspecting the bottom row.

  She laughed delightedly at the heated look he sent her and skipped into the bedroom to grab the sheet off the bed. Wrapping it around herself like a sarong she curled up with Bane on his giant dog bed while Ash finished their omelettes. She ran her hands down the dog’s back and massaged his thick neck, laughing as he wiggled in appreciation.

  “You didn’t have Bane’s tail docked?” she asked idly, while she pet the dog.

  “No,” Ash answered. “Wasn’t necessary. He’s a good guy, just a little less aerodynamic than other Rottweilers.”

  Anya giggled. “Fair enough. I think he looks good with that piece of rebar attached to his butt.”

  “You like dogs?”

  She nodded, hugging Bane to her. “I like most animals, but I was never allowed to have one.”

  “Why?”

  “My brother has enough to contend with, he didn’t want the added hassle of an animal around. He would have let me get one if I’d pressed the issue though,” she was quick to clarify.

  “So, why didn’t you get one when you moved out?”

  Anya’s breath caught a little. She hesitated before answering, knowing they were about to head into contentious territory. “I never moved out,” she said carefully.

  As she feared, Ash stopped what he was doing and stared at her, his eyebrows coming down in a frown. “You never fucking moved out?” he demanded, and then looked horrified for a moment. “How old are you? Please god, tell me you’re fucking legal. I just assumed you look young!” He came over to where she sat on the dog bed, looming over her.

  Anya reached out to touch him, her fingertips brushing his calf. “I’m twenty-four Ash! We’ve done nothing wrong
by being together.”

  Ash bit out a harsh laugh and rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, except I’ve been fucking a mobster’s protected little sister. One that’s not even mature enough to move out on her own at the age of twenty-four. That’s fucked Anya. No wonder you never had more than a few dates with the same guy.”

  “Asshole!” she snapped, scrambling to her feet, hanging on to the sheet so it wouldn’t drop. “How do you even know that?”

  “It’s pretty obvious baby, you run away every time things get hot. You can’t handle a relationship. You just keep running back to big brother.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Of all the women in this city, I pick you to take home.”

  Tears filled her eyes, she looked away so he couldn’t see them and tightened the bed sheet around her naked body. She moved toward the doorway of the laundry room.

  “Where the hell are you going?” he asked dangerously.

  “I don’t have to listen to this garbage,” she threw over her shoulder striding away from him.

  Bane jumped excitedly around her legs. She patted his head and gently nudged him aside.

  “Anya, stop!” Ash stalked after her and grabbed her arm, turning her around to face him.

  “Oh, you did not just put hands on me!” Anya snarled, throwing up her shoulder and tossing his arm away, then bringing the heel of her hand up to strike him in the solar plexus.

  She wasn’t big enough, nor did she have enough momentum to actually push the big man back, but her strike was solid enough to get his attention. Ash stared at her stunned for a moment. He tried reaching for her again. Anya blocked his arm and sent her fist into his belly. Again, she wasn’t able to do any real damage, but she would have winded most other men. Ash’s surprise turned quickly to anger.

  “Another fucking game Anya?” he asked furiously. “You didn’t think the fact that you’ve been trained to fight might be of interest?”

  “Why should I have told you anything?” she shouted. “Your arrogant ass just assumes you know what the fuck’s going on. Just like you know I’m a spoiled brat that lives with her brother, enjoying his unlimited pockets and protection. What can you offer me that’s even close to those kind of perks?” she mocked.

  “Enough!”

  Ash reached for her again. When she would have blocked him, he spun sideways in a move so swift she didn’t have time to protect herself when his arms dropped over her from behind. He tightened his hold, trapping her arms against her side and lifted her off the ground. He grunted when the heel of her foot connected with his knee and nearly dropped her. She went wild in his arms, twisting and turning, doing her best to kick him in the junk, until he’d had enough. Dropping to one knee he flipped her over his leg, yanked the sheet away from her body and spanked her bare ass several times.

  “Ooph!” The air rushed out of her lungs as her delicate ribs rocked against his hard thigh.

  Bane howled in disapproval of his new friend being beaten. He danced around them in agony of indecision.

  Anya was so stunned she couldn’t move. She lay helplessly against Ash while he heated her ass with the palm of his hand. Though she was sure the spanking wasn’t intended to turn her on, the flares of pain gradually morphed into another kind of heat. One that had her mortified enough to finally start wriggling to escape his lap.

  “Please Ash!” she finally called out in a choked voice.

  His hand stopped. He let it rest heavily against her red skin.

  Choking back sobs, Anya pushed herself away from him and scrambled back along the floor, snatching the sheet as she went. She curled up against a wall and yanked the sheet over herself. She used the heel of her hand to swipe at the tears falling down her cheeks.

  “Don’t touch me!” she snapped when it looked like Ash would reach for her again.

  “Jesus!” he snapped, still kneeling on the floor. He shoved a hand through his short hair. Tattoos rippled up his arm. “You can be such a child sometimes. Be a grown ass woman for once Anya. Tell me you didn’t like the feeling of my hand connecting with your ass.”

  She gasped.

  “Don’t bother denying it. I can tell baby, you love the way I touch you. I know when you’re wet for me.”

  “Can you tell what this means asshole?” she flipped him her middle finger and scrambled to her feet.

  He rolled his eyes as she stomped into the laundry room and started pulling her clothes from the dryer. “Walking away again Anya? If you go this time, I won’t be coming after you. We call this the good fuck it was and go our separate ways.”

  Anya jerked her jeans over her legs, stumbling a bit in her haste and putting out a hand to steady herself. Her shirt followed with similar treatment. She snatched up her bra and panties and stuffed them into the purse she had carried in with her. She yanked on her boots and stood to face Ash.

  “Anya…” He was standing now, bulging arms crossed angrily over his chest.

  “Don’t bother Ash,” she snapped. “You think you know everything about me. You make stupid assumptions based on your own pathetic existence. You assume because you were a drug-addicted orphan that my life must have been all sunshine and unicorns. Yeah, don’t look so surprised. I had a complete background on you before I ever set eyes on you. I had to make sure my brother’s new fighter wasn’t going to relapse.”

  “So you fucked a bad boy Anya. Feel good about yourself? Getting down and dirty in the gutter?” he snarled in retaliation.

  “God!” Anya shouted, tossing her hair over her shoulder in agitation and stomping to the front door. “You can be a mean son-of-a-bitch when you don’t like what I have to say. Well screw you, I don’t have to take this from anyone.”

  “Anya, you get back here right now!”

  She flung the door open and glared at him, gasping sobs marring what was supposed to be her parting shot. “You don’t know me Ash. And now you never will.”

  “Fuck, woman, at least let me give you a ride!”

  But she was gone.

  He didn’t bother going after her, knowing the Russians were sitting on his doorstep, waiting for the mob princess to appear.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Fuck it. I’m a pussy whipped motherfucker,” Ash grumbled to himself as he drove up to the gates of the Sitnikov mansion.

  It had taken three hours after Anya’s departure before he decided to go look for her. He realized he didn’t care if she was spoiled brat. He loved the little troublemaker. He would just have to do his best to meet her standards, and if he came up short, he would take her to bed, where he knew he was capable of fulfilling her every wish.

  He just had to brave the lion’s den and convince her he was in it for the long run. He would then see about purchasing some restraints so when she got mad he could tie her down and keep her from flying away back to the gilded cage, under her brothers supervision. Hopefully he didn’t get himself shot in the process.

  “Asher Bowles to see Anastasia Sitnikov,” he announced himself when the speaker box demanded to know who he was.

  “Drive around,” demanded the voice with a thick Russian accent.

  Ash knew without a doubt that the voice belonged to Sitnikov’s vicious enforcer, Boris Koslov. As expected, the giant met Ash at the door looking particularly grim. Despite Ash’s expertise in the ring, he decided he was glad the Russian wasn’t a fighting man. Ash wasn’t entirely sure he would win that confrontation.

  “Boss wants to see you,” Boris said, stepping back to allow Ash into the spacious entryway.

  “I want to see Anastasia,” Ash pressed.

  Boris grunted and shook his shaved head. The muscles in his neck emphasized the tattoos that snaked down his neck into the collar of his shirt. “She’s not here,” he said. “Mr. Sitnikov asked to see you when you arrived.”

  Frowning, Ash followed the other man into the depths of the house. He was beginning to wish he’d strapped on his guns before coming here. He never wore them when he wasn’t working, but he would have m
ade an exception if he thought he could get past the front door with them. He knew better than to bring a weapon anywhere near the city’s brutal mob boss though. Even a perceived threat to Vlad Sitnikov would be asking to die a slow and horrible death.

  “When I arrived?” Ash asked, raising his brow in question.

  Boris shrugged.

  They passed several doorways and what looked like a ballroom when Boris halted in front of a heavy, wood-panelled door. He knocked briefly and opened the door.

  “In,” he said shortly.

  Ash stepped into the office of Vladimir Sitnikov and looked around. The Russian boss was making a couple of drinks at a bar tucked into the corner of the room. Ash was impressed with the luxurious but not ostentatious decorating style of the room. It definitely had an old-world feel without coming across as too heavy. He relaxed slightly. He was pretty sure Sitnikov didn’t kill people in such an expensively furnished room – too messy. He would have them taken somewhere else for disposal.

  “Asher,” Sitnikov greeted him with a cold smile and extended his hand with a drink.

  Ash took it saying, “Please, call me Ash. Vodka I assume?”

  “The best,” Sitnikov stated, tossing his own glass back. “Please, sit.”

  Ash sat in the chair indicated and drained his drink as well. He didn’t drink often. He took his sobriety very seriously, knowing how easy it would be to sink into the pit of addiction. He had too much to live for – owed Khalid too much – to allow himself that course in life. He placed his tumbler on the desk and covered it with his hand, shaking his head when Sitnikow offered him another pour. He hoped the lethal Russian didn’t take offence, as refusing a drink was not something done in his culture. But the other man said nothing and simply put his own glass down.

  “So, you have come for my sister, no?” The words were simple, but through the thick accent, Ash could tell they were anything but. Ash realized he needed to tread extremely carefully in the next few moments.

  “She left my home this afternoon, before we could properly finish our conversation.”