The drenching made them all laugh, and Sarah could taste freedom as solid as metal, as natural as air. The happy vibe whirled around them as the wind blew hard and the rain poured down. Dylan pulled her close and nuzzled her neck as they all marched back towards Ivan’s cottage, laughing against the wind and rain. Sarah grinned into the eyes of her lover. This was it. Life for the sake of it.
****
Back at the house, Sarah dripped on the kitchen tiles as Ivan made her a cup of tea. “Exactly how the Brits like it, Princess Sarah,” he joked. “Over-stewed and contaminated with milk.”
She laughed, shivering in the shade of the cottage.
Ivan noticed her goose-bumps. “Hey, why don’t you go up to my room and get dry, alright? You’ll find a towel up there. You can borrow a shirt of mine and dry your dress in the dryer.”
“Okay, thanks, Ivan.” She raised a seductive eyebrow at Dylan. “Would you like to help me out of my wet things, Dylan?”
He shrugged, playing it cool in front of his brothers. “Sure, babe, I’ll give you a hand.”
They went up to Ivan’s bedroom and started kissing immediately. The room was cozy and bright, with its low oak beams, cream walls, and exposed varnished floorboards. The old-fashioned sash-windows cast sunlight over the inviting brass-framed bed. Sarah was suddenly filled with a sense of thrilling abandonment that she hadn’t experienced for years. Maybe it was all that sea air and wild weather. And the declaration of love from Dylan. Suddenly he wasn’t a source of heartache, but hope.
She fondled the top button of her dress, but her fingers were cold.
Dylan eased down the dress straps. “Allow me to strip you naked and warm you up.”
He kissed her hard. “I’m getting warmer already,” she whispered.
He stood back and inspected her. “I want to see you touching yourself for me. Lie down on the bed and pleasure yourself. I’ll join in when I want.”
Sarah nodded, trying to control her lustful breathing. She grabbed her purse and rummaged inside, then she pulled out her lipstick vibrator.
“You carry that around with you?” Dylan asked, astounded.
She shrugged. “I work long hours. Sometimes I need to let off steam. Some people have a cigarette break; I sneak off to an empty room and have a… you know.”
“Masturbation break?”
She laughed. “Yeah. I guess.”
He gazed at her in awe. “You’re amazing.”
Sarah felt empowered as she saw the captivated look on Dylan’s face. She knew she was in control of this situation, so she swaggered over and kissed him hard, then she stepped back and undid the buttons of her wet dress, revealing her rock hard nipples and plump breasts, which she reached up and fondled, enjoying the feel of her own hands and Dylan’s lustful eyes all over her.
“I’m all yours, baby,” she said, reaching down to touch her panties. “My body is desperate for you to touch it. But first, allow me to warm myself up for your viewing pleasure.”
She slipped out of her dress and settled down on the bed – laying her head on the comfortable pillow. Then she pulled her wet panties off and threw them across the room with wild abandonment, making Dylan laugh. She turned on the vibrator with a flourish, making sure he could see everything, and she lowered it hungrily to her clit. The humming vibes surged delightful pleasure between her thighs, causing her mouth to grin of its own accord. She dipped her fingers into her wet pussy, filling herself up gently, while rubbing the vibrator over her clit, increasing the pressure as she zoomed towards a swift climax.
Sarah’s eyes closed and an image of Dylan fucking her flashed into her mind, increasing her lust even more. She allowed her imagination to flow and she saw Joseph and Ivan there on the bed, each of them fondling and sucking her breasts. In her fantasy, Dylan was watching, playing with his cock while Sarah touched herself, and his brothers sent joyful tingles into her body with their hot lips and tantalising tongues.
Sarah heard a floorboard creak in the real bedroom, so she opened her eyes a sliver, and saw Dylan standing at the end of the bed, holding his hard cock, condom on, ready to go.
“You turn me on too much, sweetheart,” he said. “Allow me to help you with that pleasure.”
Sarah grinned and nodded. The vibrator continued to buzz as Dylan reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her roughly towards him and making her gasp. He tilted her hips up towards his straining hard-on and eased himself into her tight pussy. She groaned in delight, pressing the vibrator harder on her clit, desperate to feel the immense euphoria she knew was in store. The feeling of him thrusting deep, combined with the intensity of the vibrator, pushed her suddenly into an overwhelmingly delicious orgasm, which started deep within her core and rushed over her body – exploding in her brain like a bomb of blissful glee. She dropped the vibrator to the bed, because it was now too intense on her climaxing clit, and she gripped the comforter in her fists as Dylan continued to grind himself deep into her pussy. She felt him come hard as her own orgasm gently faded, and he pulled her against himself to eek out as much of his own pleasure as possible, which sent lovely tingles into Sarah’s ecstasy-drenched body.
She opened her eyes and saw that he was gazing at her with loving eyes. She smiled peacefully; gazing into his soul. His love declaration on the beach just now had shifted something between them, and Sarah loved him even more than ever.
He withdrew then crawled onto the bed and wrapped her in his arms. “I love you, Sarah. That’s how I feel – I’m so glad to have you back in my life. In my arms. In my heart.”
She nuzzled her face into his toned chest. “I love you, too, Dylan. I always have.”
He kissed her on the head and she felt snooziness drag her towards an afternoon nap – feeling content and secure. She knew the road ahead was going to be bumpy – there was still the huge matter of Natalia and the Russians. But somehow – now that she had her one true love back in her life – there was an inner-strength and a renewed sense of hope. And, really, that was all she needed.
Chapter Eighteen
Working in tourism with wealthy clients had given Sarah plenty of opportunities to rub shoulders with the rich and famous. However, nothing could’ve prepared her for tonight’s party at Orlov’s. Especially as she, Dylan, and Joseph now stood outside his medieval-looking door, about to gate-crash his eerie, secluded gothic mansion – which felt about as inviting as a haunted house of horrors.
Orlov had actually invited Dylan to this soiree last week, but he’d initially declined, thinking he didn’t want to get too chummy with the husband of the woman he was screwing. But now everything had changed, and the timing of this party couldn’t be better – they needed to get that piece of blueprint and destroy it before it was too late.
Dylan tugged at the tasselled rope hanging from the granite porch, which made the doorbell clang. Sarah held his hand tight, trying to stave off her nerves. She glanced at Joseph… The three of them were keen to stick together, but they all knew his role here tonight. Orlov’s mother – Anna – was a shrewd powerful alcoholic with a penchant for handsome young men. It was well-known that years ago she’d been involved with the KGB and Russian mafia, and she’d raised her son with the same hardened love for corruption. Her husband had disappeared in mysterious circumstances about five years ago, and nowadays she ran casinos and nightclubs in London and Moscow – and she was always in the company of boy toys. One of the nastier British tabloids had infiltrated a sex party at one of her London casinos last year, where she’d been embroiled in an orgy with wealthy clients and eighteen-year-old prostitutes of both sexes. Shortly after that, she’d been arrested for trafficking young Russian women to work in the UK as lap-dancers, but – unsurprisingly – all charges had been dropped for reasons unexplained. Sarah desperately hoped they’d be able to find that blueprint this evening, because she was reluctant for this Russian family to have an even stronger hold over the UK courts than they already had.
Joseph looked happy
and relaxed after yesterday’s reunion with Ivan, but Sarah knew he was probably feeling apprehensive about having to seek out and seduce Mrs Orlov in the hope of getting information from her. Sarah knew he’d have no trouble charming her – he looked devilishly handsome in his tux – but at almost-twenty Sarah feared he might be a little too old for Anna. But he’d have to do. It was that or Sarah would have to cozy-up with Orlov, and there was no way she wanted to do that. And Dylan wouldn’t allow it anyway – not even in the interest of world peace and national security.
Sarah stood tall, feeling glamorous in her designer dress. She’d enjoyed a shopping trip with Amy earlier, and they’d bonded while having their hair and nails done. Sarah knew she looked the part, but she hoped her nerves wouldn’t let her down. It was a simple plan: Dylan was going to keep Orlov talking while Joseph extracted the info from Anna, then Sarah and Joseph would use the info to find the blueprint. It was a terrible plan, but unfortunately a better one wasn’t forthcoming at the moment.
An idea suddenly struck Sarah as they stood on the stone doorstep. “Dylan, Mikhail said the blueprint is safe?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said. “Why?”
“I wonder if he meant, it’s in a safe. You know, like a safe.”
Dylan grinned. “My genius girl.”
Sarah opened her mouth to reply, but an elderly butler dressed in a tailcoat opened the front door. “Yes?”
“Hi, we’re here for the party,” Dylan said. “Dylan Quinlan. Orlov invited me. Right?”
The butler stepped aside. “Of course, sir. Do come in.”
The hallway was like a cathedral, with its ornate stone walls, engraved ceiling, and lavish spiral staircase leading to who-knew-where. Sarah realised that all those Russian businesses Orlov had conned back in Moscow had made him a very wealthy man.
“Come this way please,” the butler said, practically bowing as he walked. They followed him across the shiny black-and-white checked marble floor, which reminded Sarah of a giant chessboard. She wondered who was going to win the game.
Sarah glanced over at the sound of a stern female Russian voice, and she saw Anna Orlov dressed in an expensive gown and diamonds, barking out orders to a couple of terrified waiters. Anna was gripping a lit cigarette in her long manicured fingers, and – as she turned her head to take a drag – her gaze fell upon Joseph, then lingered over his fit body.
“She’s spotted you already,” Sarah whispered. “Act cool.”
Joseph glanced over and threw Anna a trademark Quinlan smile, which would’ve melted even Sarah’s resolve had she been on the receiving end of it. Anna didn’t flinch – maintaining a hard expression. But Sarah knew she’d noticed Joseph, and that was good enough for now.
Dylan squeezed Sarah’s fingers gently in his own, as the butler led them through an engraved oak door and into the huge reception room where a hundred other smartly-dressed people were gathered. An eerie silence hit Sarah as they entered, and she suddenly felt afraid. Wasn’t this supposed to be a party? Had they been set up? The checkerboard floor motif continued through here and Sarah felt compelled not to stand on any of the lines between the squares in case they absorbed her. This room was like a museum, with expensive artefacts and a massive chandelier hanging from the decorative ceiling. Sarah steeled herself, trying not to feel as if she was an antelope in the lion’s den at feeding time.
She spotted Orlov standing with a group of other stern-looking Russian men, and she suddenly realised that he was in the middle of addressing the entire room, making a speech to his captivated guests – hence the silence. She exhaled. The butler offered her, Dylan, and Joseph a drink from a tray of Champagne glasses, then he retreated.
Sarah sipped her Champagne and listened to Orlov’s smooth Russian voice. “…And of course, I will not rest until justice has been done. It is with a heavy heart that I ask you now to raise a glass for my dearest love, Natalia. May she rest in peace.”
“To Natalia,” came the toasts from his guests.
“To Natalia,” Dylan said loudly, holding aloft his Champagne glass and leaning coolly against the doorframe.
Orlov’s face flashed with angry panic, then he composed himself. “Ah, Dylan Quinlan has decided to visit my humble home!”
Orlov drifted over to greet them as the other guests started to chat amongst themselves. The string quartet in the corner of the room struck up a gentle waltz, which calmed Sarah’s nerves slightly. She sipped her Champagne and tried to focus her racing thoughts.
Orlov greeted Dylan with a self-assured smile and they shook hands.
“And who have you brought with you?” Orlov asked, scrutinising Sarah with a salacious glance – which wasn’t entirely appropriate for a man who was so devastated about the death of his beloved Natalia.
“This is Sarah,” Dylan said. “My… um, wife.”
Dylan threw Sarah a sheepish grin. But actually, she felt quite proud to be introduced like that.
“It’s a pleasure,” Orlov said, shaking Sarah’s hand. She blushed at his touch. Don’t look into his eyes! He was unbelievably gorgeous – like a demon of temptation in Gucci.
“And this,” Dylan said, “is my brother Joseph Quinlan.”
“Delighted to meet you,” Orlov said, shaking his hand, too. He turned his attention back to Dylan. “I’m very happy that our sponsorship deal is still going ahead, Dylan, despite all which has been happening with my dearest Natalia.”
“Me too, Vladimir. In fact, I’d hoped to discuss some of the finer details with you tonight.” Dylan turned to Sarah and Joseph. “Why don’t you two go mingle? Me and Vlad are going to talk ‘shop’ for a bit.”
Joseph nodded and slipped out the door. Sarah planned to join him, so she opened her mouth to say she’d see Dylan soon, but a commotion on the other side of the room made them glance over.
With the force of a nuclear explosion, a tense atmosphere swept across the room. Sarah watched with dread as one of the Russians – who’d been standing loyally with Orlov a moment ago – was now frantically waving his hands and shaking his head. The man looked terrified, even though he was strongly built and battle-scarred. The other ice-cold members of Orlov’s gang were closing in on him, speaking sharply in Russian, and looming ominously as if they were about to rip him to pieces in front of everyone. Sarah couldn’t understand what they were saying, but she caught one word of English: “Traitor!”
Orlov remained totally cool. “So sorry, Mr Quinlan. You will excuse me. It seems the inner-circle is having the urgent meeting.”
“The inner-circle?” Dylan asked.
“Yes. This is our name for ourselves. The ruling oligarchs of Russia.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “The Russian President might not be too pleased to hear you calling yourselves ‘rulers’.”
Orlov chuckled condescendingly. “Nonsense. The President is one of us. But, alas, he could not be here tonight.”
Orlov strode over to join his comrades and harshly reminded them that they currently had an audience, so they ushered the treacherous man out the room. One of Orlov’s comrades – a snarky-looking man with glasses – draped a supportive arm around the man’s shaking shoulders like a paedophilic uncle. He looked terrified.
“I wonder what’s going to happen to him,” Sarah said.
Dylan shrugged, still watching the little group leave. “God knows.”
“He’s so arrogant,” Sarah said. “Orlov, I mean. He’s horrid.”
“He is. Pretty handsome, though, huh?”
Dylan threw her a knowing grin. She laughed. “I didn’t notice.”
Dylan cupped her chin and kissed her on the lips. “I think he’s blinded by his own self-worth. I know his type – a coward on his own, when he’s not protected by his bodyguards or his political cronies.”
Sarah sipped her Champagne. “It looks like his cronies don’t deal with traitors very well. I think they’d be fascinated to discover that Orlov was married to a spy. Shall we tell them now?”
“Or let them deal with him,” Sarah said.
“Yeah,” Dylan said. “I like the way you think. Come on, let’s go look around while their backs are turned. Where’s Joseph gone?”
Chapter Nineteen
Regardless of how corrupt and evil the Orlov family were, there was one thing Sarah couldn’t deny – they were incredibly attractive. Mrs Orlov was beautiful and glamorous, and as Sarah and Dylan wandered back out to the lavish checkerboard hallway, they discovered Joseph leaning against the marble bannister of the spiral staircase, gazing into the Russian woman’s eyes, and lighting her cigarette for her like a film-noir hero – maintaining such smouldering eye contact that his gaze could’ve done the job on its own. Mrs Orlov blew the smoke out of her mouth in the sexiest femme-fatale style that Sarah had ever seen outside a movie. She sipped her Champagne and continued to flirt coolly with Joseph.
“Boy wonder’s in action,” Dylan said.
“Time to set the plan in motion,” Sarah replied.
They strolled over and joined Joseph. The sexual tension sizzled.
“Hey,” Joseph said with a grin. “This is Anna – Vladimir’s mother. I was just telling her how astounded I was that she’s the mother of a twenty-five-year-old. I mean, she looks so young.”
Anna’s face didn’t flicker. Sarah knew she wasn’t stupid – you didn’t attain her sort of wealth and power by being a pushover. Her demeanour oozed coolness.
“I was a child-bride,” she said in a smooth Russian accent.
Joseph shot her a suggestive grin. “Fascinating.”
The two gazed into each other’s eyes again. The magnetism between them was so intense now that it was beginning to warp the air. Sarah half-expected to see the floor tiles cracking and the stone walls crumble.
The Billionaire's Affair: Billionaire Brothers (Tycoon Billionaires Book 2) Page 11
